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"A fine plan." He said, turning back to the man, grabbing him by the cuff of the shirt and pulling him foreward.
"You know the information that I seek. The longer you wait, the more it will hurt. Had you told me immediatly, you would have suffered shortly for your betrayal to your comrades." He shoved the man roughly back into the chair.
"Now you suffer all the more." Baranar sliced off another finger from the other hand, staring at the man with his twin-colored eyes.

Baranar laughed bitterly. "Pathetic human. Your excuses carry no weight. You will tell me where they took her. This is not a matter for us to discuss. I have asked my question, and I shall have my answer. Baranar leaned foreward, staring for a moment at the man's cheast, then jabbing him with two fingers, twisting them into a pressure point, agony filling the man's body.
"It hurts, I know. I can see the pain clearly upon your face, but you can't get air to your lungs, can you? I don't think I want my answer now, I think I shall be content to watch you slowly suffer. If your lucky, I'll be out of practice, and you'll die within a day." Baranar's cold grin grew across his face.
"But that's not the case, now is it?" Baranar pulled his fingers away, allowing the man a moment to catch his breath as he reached down to the ground, picking up one of the fingers with a ring upon it.
"A wife? Most interesting...."

Baranar's eyes narrowed.
"You had your chance, human!" Baranar jabbed his fingers once more into the man's side, wracking him with agony. He toyed with the finger. He glanced up to see a picture of her on the table. He motioned, and Feather picked it up gently in it's beak, handing it to him.
"Yes, this must be her. She's quite lovely, if I say so myself. Quite lovely indeed..." Baranar began to smile again, a dark, perverted grin as he twisted harder. "I will keep her alive much longer, after the warm up you'll give me. She will, of course, be allowed to scream, as you are not. A woman's scream carries a bit more than that of a man." Baranar set the portrait and finger down gently, taking care to move them and the blade attatched to the arm carefully.
"It's easy to know when you've bested a man. You merely casturate him." With a fluid motion, Baranar brought the blade down into the chair, inches from the man's crotch. "However, a woman has to scream. Scream long and hard, until she cannot scream any more. That is when you know you have defeated her." Baranar again pulled his fingers away from the man.
"I ask you one last time, where is Erica Soltari?"

"Do not tell me you know where he is," Barnar growled, digging his fingers in, "tell me where he is." Baranar released the man again.

Baranar stood up straight, correcting any wrinkles in his robes and turned to leave, beckoning for Ora and Feather. He paused, turning back to the man. He swung the Crow's Talon down, slamming into the man's groin, tearing through the chair and ripping out parts the man would have liked to keep.
"I had forgotten." He said, as calmly as someone who might have forgotten their keys on the table. "And your wife shall be joining you soon."
With that, Baranar left.

Baranar went outside, seeing that it was turning to dusk, Feather having since changed back into his smaller form.

"I trust you know these streets?" Baranar inquired.

Baranar followed after her to the bar, I believe it was, where the woman they were sent after was.

Baranar moved his shoulder slightly, Feather flying off to the shadows.
"My acomplice here is 18. She suffers from a rare disease that hampers her growth cycle, and thus her appearance." Baranar adressed the bouncer calmly.