"My interest?" Shamiq snorts. "Have you not been listening to a single word I've said, mortals? Must I spell everything out?" It looks into the impenetrable wall of your mistrustful faces and sighs again, wearily. "...You would not believe me in any case. All I have to say is this, then: the ramifications of your decision concerning the Maeldur's fate will affect far more than you can ever imagine. Even if you choose to do nothing at all. But it is not I who thrusts this choice into your hands."
It waves one withered, scabrous arm dismissively. "In any case, Tapheon is a broken sot who lords himself over a motley crew of disaffected tanar'ri... though he is not without his talents. Tapheon fancies himself a bit of a fleshshaper, you see, though a third-rate one at best. Pfeh. He desires only one thing-- revenge against the balor who broke him. More than that, I couldn't say."