The Many Faces of Jarlaxle:

Torturer

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Jarlaxle casually pinned the goblin to the wall with a few daggers, smiling benevolently at its squeaking. His crimson eyes lit up with a fiery gleam as the goblin began to plead. Nothing the assassin could understand; it was in the goblin language. Artemis watched from the mouth of the alley, horrified.

"I just happen to have," the drow mercenary said, pulling out a glass jar from under his cape and holding it up with a dazzling grin, "raspberry jam." He showed it to his captive for a few moments while he drew a dining knife from his belt.

Now the goblin spoke badly accented Common. "No, no, I know not the information you want!"

Jarlaxle looked over at Artemis without seeming to notice the human's sick expression and said conversationally, popping open the lid on his jar of jam and beginning to slather it on the goblin's wounds, "I found that raspberry jam interacts with something in the blood of those of goblin heritage in a very interesting way." He pointed at the goblin with his knife. "Look! It foams." He turned his crimson gaze to his victim, who was whimpering, twitching in pain from the white foam gathering around the edges of the bleeding wounds on his arms. The drow looked transfixed with fascination. "My, my, that must hurt, mustn't it," Jarlaxle said in a low voice, honey-smooth and melodious.

Artemis resisted the gag impulse in the back of his mouth trying to prompt the assassin to throw up. "I don't want to know."

Jarlaxle laughed and glanced at him curiously, no hint of remorse or comprehension at the man's revulsion in his manner. "Whatever is the matter?"

"You make me sick." Artemis couldn't hold it in anymore and noisily vomited in the gutter. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I don't think I'll be able to eat jam ever again."

"How entertaining!" Jarlaxle said. "I must remind myself to have the next place we patronize offer you some of this delicious raspberry jam. It must be a local specialty." He licked the side of his knife clean. "Now will you start talking, or shall I try blueberry?" he asked the goblin. "I bought the elusive jelly just for the occasion." The drow mercenary looked eager to try it out.

The goblin soon spilled everything he knew, talking rapidly as Jarlaxle yanked his daggers out of the goblin's body and nodded in satisfaction. The moment the goblin finished, he took off.

"I suggest washing with soap and water," Jarlaxle called after him. "I hope there are no permanent effects!" He waved at the goblin gaily, standing on the balls of his feet. "Wonderful man," he commented to Entreri, who still looked faintly sick. "We should have lunch sometime. Beautiful children."