Zinlynn watched at first until the goblin finally came to. She was surprised to see that the goblin could speak good Common. She commented as such, "Oh, good. So you can speak Common,"

She then answered the Goblin, "One of our own died because of you and your friends, so we're not exactly in the best of moods. But as long as you answer our questions honestly, you'll live,"

She then asked the goblin, "A dwarf and a friend of his came to this spot before us. Their horses lie dead here. Where did your friends take them, and why? Tell us everything you know,"

Zinlynn raised an eyebrow, trying to keep up an intimidating appearance (and failing). She listened to the goblin intently, focusing not just on his words, but also on his body language, his eyes, and for any sign of deceit in his entire being. But alas, as he continued to speak, he showed no sign of lying to the group. If anything, she felt awful. Apparently he did not live a good life as a 'minion'. There was more to monsters than what was on the surface.

She sighed and she said to the others first, "He's being honest with us, guys,"

She then directed her attention to the goblin and she told him, "We'll let you live since you were so honest with us with everything. You can leave. But if we see you in this Klarg's lair, then your life is forfeit! Do you understand?"

Once he gives her an affirmative answer, she would step aside to let the goblin run far from this place.

Tibor would whisper a prayer to his god, asking that he judge the little batiri as it ran. While he expected to be treated by the solum sound of a funeral bell, signalling the spell taking effect, no such sound came. Either by way of its own will, or by the mercy of Kelemvor, the creature had resisted the spell.

"We need to move quick. No matta what it say, dat batiri could have him a change of hart. Decide he not okay with us killin him friends. Go run off an warn dis Klarg we coming. Take him chances wit whatever de bugbear give him for de information."

With that, Tibor would turn and head towards the tracks he'd found. While the batiri had seemed to be telling the truth, the tortle knew well how quickly a creature's truth could change once it was no longer staring death in the face. If it could so easily turn itself against its comrades from before, what was stopping it from deciding to turn on their wagon and halfling driver once they were no longer there to protect them.