Du’minh crouches by the still-living hobgoblin and very carefully searches it so as to not disturb the knife in its back. He looks for any documentation about the brothel - names, a map, or other useful notes - or other material that may help them navigate faster through the complex.
While doing so he checks for marks of enthrallment, including tracing its scalp for tentacle scars and sliding back its eyelids to see if the pupils are dilated.
At the end, he takes a careful yet firm grip of the knife still imbedded while using his other hand to slap the guard awake. The Rish-i-Chal uses the slightest twist of the blade to remind the hobgoblin of its current state, hoping to push through the mental conditioning for a moment or two.
“You should be thankful, graith. Pain is a cleansing process that can help you focus through turmoil and corruption – I know your kin are disciplined warriors like the People, so even a barbarian like you might understand.”
“Tell me about your masters and you will finally find release from them.”
The ogre doesn't look convinced. He cocks his head to the side as looks Ar'dru up and down. "I duhknowz ... hyu don' look like hyuz got meat t'sellz. Maybeez smartz? Maybeez hyuz sellin'. Maybee hyuz buyin'. But maybeez hyu iz looking fer troublez, ya? Pigkilla sez gizz be lookin fer troublez, wedder deyz be yankiz 'r zereez. Cept fer a few what sellz smartz." He taps his chin with the back of the cleaver as he considers, "Hyuz come wit me, but I'z gonna keep me eyez on hyu."
The drover, seeing his case for more money is going by the wayside, tries to press his rights. "Now just a minute! You don't want to pay a fair price, I'll have my men drive this herd somewhere else! I'll get at least ten percent more right down the road!"
"HAR HAR HAR! Ya, hyuz just try an do dat! Pigkillaz got 'em now, berk!"
Indeed, the cattle march into the slaugterhouse in perfect step. The ogre pushes the stunned drovers out of the way and makes for the close side of the huge barn doors.
Just inside, Ardru sees the illithid wearing the wood and iron collar. There are gylphs of illithid writing carved into the wood, which is a huge square affair three feet to a side. The collar is locked onto the illithid's neck with stout padlocks, and it looks to weigh just shy of a hundred pounds. The illithid itself seems malnourished, but also somewhat robust, perhaps from the constant weight, perhaps from previous musculature.
"OY! OY, PIGKILLA! OY LOOKIE, HYUZ GOTZ VISITA!" The ogre yells over the sound of marching hooves, far louder that he needs to be, actually.
As soon as Pigkiller looks up and sees Ar'dru, the marching cattle stop. The illithid lets out an angry hiss, "What do you want here dutha'gith?" Pigkiller asks, burning the question into Ar'du's mind.
Ar'dru notices that the herd of cattle is still, silent, and watching him with a hundred vacant eyes.
[Evil DM reminds you that you're the one who wouldn't cover up that githyanki armor, and who chose the front door over the unguarded blood drain] :twisted:
[And yes, Evil DM lives for "oh sh*t" moments!]