Torture was all about finding the right motivator, and not just mindless pain. Sometimes, it only took a threat against someone who wasn't trained to take what was dished out. The young man cracking at all was the first hint that some of what he spoke was truth, and in this case, he started talking without actually having to carve him up. Vahit didn't really care about what. It was up to him to decide what he might find useless, but the more the elf said, the more he could potentially give away so he assaulted him with questions, hoping he would slip somewhere.<br/><br/>Most of it was useless, but not the elf admitting to having information stored away in his saddlebags, something he assumed Malta had retrieved. All knowledge was useful, especially when it came to medicinal herbs, even if it was something they might not have access to. At least they might know more about healers in the south. Perhaps there might even be similarities and things they hadn't yet found uses for. Vahit took the dagger away, and his hands off the prisoner.<br/><br/>“Go bring me what he speaks of,” Vahit told Malta. The large man eased up some on the elf and handled him enough to set him on the rug in the center of the tent. It was obvious he was terrified at the options Vahit laid out for him, but this was war. If the elf didn't want to get caught up in it than he should have paid better attention to where he was going. He was glad he'd thought ahead to bring the donkey. It seemed there might be someone more valuable than his meat, not something he would have thought about if not for the more tactical mind of his general. Out of curiosity, he opened one of the notebooks before he took the saddlebags off, seeing for himself that it appeared the elf was speaking the truth. He was some medicinal healer. There were even some tinctures within, though Malta didn't trust that the elf might try to poison them just the same. He brought the packs inside to the tent, to set on the desk for inspection. Vahit dumped the contents out entirely.<br/><br/>“What about for our own? Do you think he could be useful?” Malta chanced to question, and Vahit snapped his gaze over to the burly man, a look of warning for the man to be careful what he said. Naturally, Vahit didn't want the sickness they were dealing with to be spread like common knowledge. Their enemies would know they were at a disadvantage, and that nothing they were doing seemed to work. Looking over his journals though, he was clearly knowledgeable.<br/><br/>Malta knelt back down by the prisoner, trying to get a better look and understanding of him now that they weren't out in a snowstorm.<br/><br/>“His loyalties might be tentative at best, being that he was outcasted. Maybe not the patriotic sort, willing to make compromises to see that he remains alive?” Malta continued, thinking it was worth a shot, at least. He was tired of watching his brothers die to a silent, and uncomprehending enemy.<br/><br/>“I do not know that he'd like the deal I might offer, and it would only be on the table so long as he was actually useful,” Vahit spoke, still undecided, continuing to go through the contents at his desk. “Tell me, elf, what are you willing to do for your life?”