[h3]Sir Yanin Glade[/h3]
	The man didn't appear to be overly eager to talk. Regrettable, but not exactly unexpected. 
	[color=f7976a]"If either of you two can speak, feel free,"[/color] Yanin noted idly in the general direction of the two less responsible bandits in the vicinity, [color=f7976a]"The offer stands; I don't discriminate."[/color] Markedly, his tone of voice didn't seem at all altered by the bandit's lack of cooperation. The man hadn't claimed he didn't know anything, nor tried to assert that he was only following orders. Could be telling. Unless he had been asleep, he'd also been fairly slow to react to the commotion outside. 

	To the original bandit, he offered a shrug. It was a deliberate action rather than an incidental motion. 
	[color=f7976a]"Your hand will hurt less. Whether you will be executed, imprisoned for the next sixty years, or something else entirely is to be determined later."[/color] He couldn't really force the man to speak, but he [i]could[/i] voice his preference for making it as annoying for the uncooperative in turn. He had heard about the concept of death the [i]fast[/i] way out. Some might even say the [i]easy[/i] one. Yanin was just there to make sure it was no longer the bandit's choice, in one direction or another. [color=f7976a]"I'm not precisely fond of hanging people. Figured it was more of a 'you' thing. No care for even your fellow bandits?"[/color] For all the killing, some of those people could be surprisingly brotherhoody. Form of compartmentalization, he guessed.

	Perhaps Deo'Irah or one of her friends was better in making people talk. Or one of her friends could outright read minds between their several forms of wordless communication. Divines worked in mysterious ways. And maybe it was even worth it to be wasteful.