[@Atroposer][@Skinner35]

The Irish general sat down on the other side of the two captives, who sat next to each other, their backs to the door. "Escape," he said with a twitching grin. "Yes, that be a natural hope, aye? Let me paint a picture for ye."

Daren suddenly leaped out of his chair and onto the wooden table, his hands in the air. He spun around, making his robe blossom around him. 

With a laugh, he said, "Ye're in the middle of the arctic!" He knelt before Arin and smirked. "Can't ye tell by how cold it is?" In another fit of laughter, he concealed himself with his cloak and leaped off the table. "Who paid for this, ye wonder? A powerful American politician and his British ex-wife! They call him the Purifier because he purifies our souls...of good and evil!" His white-knuckled hands gripped the back of his chair as he leaned forward, breathing hard and staring back and forth at each of them with a devilish grin. "So...play the game. Pretend to give us what we want until ye think ye can escape, but where would ye go? Ye'd freeze to death before ye got twenty feet! And even if ya didn't, ye'd starve or thirst to death, yeah? Yeah!"

His laughter echoed in the room as he spun around and then sat down in his chair. He looked back and forth between the two. "But it's no fun if ya don't play along. So go on, ask me something." He giggled maniacally and started playing with a knife that he'd somehow managed to produce, perhaps from the chair or his cloak.