[ A lot of frowning and pouting going on. Rightly so, of course－ their situation is fairly dire, if they're going to dig their heels in about the cloak－ but Iorveth doesn't like seeing Astarion anxious, so once again, he steps over Damris (who tries to snap at his ankle this time, missing again) to approach Astarion (the prettiest spawn in torture chic), pressing a palm to his cheek once he's within arm's length. ]

We'll need some time to think, either way. [ Not here, where Damris is wriggling around on the floor like some sort of pretty sharp-teethed land fish. ] ...Let us speak in our room. If our prisoner has anything else to say, I'll hear it later.

[ A very mild torture session. No bloodshed, even－ or, well, that's what Iorveth thinks until he tries to gag Damris again, resulting in finally getting his hand scratched up by fangs. Nothing severe, but he does get two parallel red lines etched in his skin, from the base of his thumb down to his pulsepoint.

He draws his hand back, and laughs. ] A very unruly cat.