The dim torchlight flickered, casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls as James and Duke Ellington descended the ancient staircase. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, their breaths shallow in the stale air. Each step was taken with deliberate caution, as if the very stones beneath their feet could betray them at any moment. They exchanged wary glances, a silent understanding that the danger ahead weighed heavily on their minds.

"Listen carefully, James," Duke whispered as they reached the bottom of the stairs, pausing momentarily in front of an iron-bound door. The coldness emanating from it seemed to reach into their very souls. "What ever has taken control of Thartis is a cunning adversary. We must be one step ahead."

"Understood," James replied, his voice barely audible. He drew upon his years of experience as a Marine, remembering how he had faced countless enemies hidden in the shadows. His resourcefulness and inventiveness had saved his life more than once, and now, in this strange world, those skills would be put to the test once again.

As they stood outside the interrogation room, Duke leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied James' face. "Tell me honestly," he said in a low, urgent tone, "were you involved in sending that message on the carrier scroll?"

James met Duke's gaze squarely, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Yes, when you handed me all the maps I saw one and took it." he answered firmly. "I have no connection to that realm of spymasters." In that moment, James wished he could prove his innocence. He hoped his determination and dedication to his work would speak for itself.

Duke held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding slowly, seemingly satisfied with James' response. "Alright, let's focus on dealing with Thartis," he suggested, his voice heavy with the burden of responsibility.

"Agreed," James replied, his mind already racing with ideas on how to gain the upper hand in this dangerous dance. He knew that every action they took would have consequences, and they could not afford any missteps. As they prepared to enter the interrogation room, he felt a mixture of fear and resolve settle within him, determined that they would emerge victorious, no matter the cost.

James took a deep breath, steeling himself against the weight of Duke's suspicions. "During my time in the Marines," he began, his voice steady and assured, "I encountered numerous instances of enemy deception and infiltration." He gestured with a calloused hand, as if painting a vivid picture of his past experiences. "We'd uncover hidden messages and elaborate schemes designed to bring us down."

Duke raised an eyebrow, intrigued by James' account. "And you managed to outsmart them all?"

"Most of them, but not by myself" James admitted, his eyes glinting with determination. "I relied on my training and resourcefulness, the talents of others always finding a way to turn the situation around." He locked eyes with Duke, the intensity of his gaze unwavering. "I give you my word. My only goal here is to help protect our people and defeat Thartis."

"Very well," Duke conceded, sensing the sincerity in James' words. He motioned toward a small, wooden table tucked away in the dimly lit corner of the room. "Let's sit and discuss our strategy for dealing with Thartis."

As they settled into their chairs, the flicker of torchlight casting dancing shadows across the rough-hewn stone walls, James couldn't help but feel the pressure of the task at hand. The gravity of their mission weighed heavily on him, a constant reminder that one wrong move could prove disastrous.

"Alright, we need to determine the best course of action," Duke began, his voice low as they leaned in close to keep their conversation private. "We have a few options, but we must weigh the risks and benefits carefully."

James nodded, his mind racing, evaluating each potential strategy with the meticulous precision he had honed during his years watching countless online tutorials. "We could try to manipulate Thartis into revealing his plans," he suggested, his fingers drumming softly on the table. "But that could backfire if he sees through our ruse."

"True," Duke agreed, his brow furrowing in thought. "What about a more direct approach? We confront him head-on and demand answers."

"Too risky," James countered, shaking his head. "He's cunning, and any misstep could lead to disaster. We need something more subtle, yet effective."

The two men sat in silence for a moment, their thoughts churning as they considered the potential consequences of each approach. It was clear that caution was paramount; the wrong decision could be deadly.

"Whatever we decide," James said finally, his voice firm with resolve, "we must be prepared for anything Thartis might throw at us. We can't afford to let our guard down, not even for a second."

"Agreed," Duke replied, his steely gaze meeting James' own. "Let's make sure we're ready for whatever comes our way."

With a shared nod, they continued to strategize, determined to outmaneuver their formidable adversary and bring safety and peace to their people once more.

James leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dimly lit room. He could almost feel Thartis' presence behind the solid door of the interrogation chamber, a malignant force that demanded every ounce of his creativity and resourcefulness. The stakes were higher than ever, and he knew that the wrong decision could spell doom for them all.

"Alright," James began, rubbing his beard thoughtfully as he looked at Duke. "I've been thinking about this, and I believe we can extract information from Thartis without resorting to direct confrontation. We need to be subtle, yet firm."

"Go on," Duke said, his keen eyes focused on James, ready to dissect any potential flaw in the plan.

"Here's what I propose," James continued, tapping into the problem-solving skills honed during his years fighting in other countries. "We'll have three people involved in the execution of our plan - you, me, and one other person we trust. Each of us will have specific roles to play, with one person observing from the outside to ensure our safety."

"Sounds intriguing," Duke replied, leaning in closer. "But what exactly are these roles?"

"First, let's call our confidant Rouke," James suggested, knowing the importance of having someone they trusted implicitly. "He'll be the observer, stationed outside the interrogation room. His job is to watch for any signs of trouble and act as our backup if things go south."

"Agreed," Duke nodded. "Frederic has proven himself time and again; he's perfect for the job. What about us?"

"Here's where it gets interesting," James said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "You, Duke, will take on the role of the good cop, empathizing with Thartis and making him feel heard. You'll try to gain his trust, making him believe that you're on his side."

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"Alright," Duke said, nodding slowly as he absorbed the information. "And you?"

"Me? I'll be playing the role of someone deeply affected by Thartis' actions - a victim, if you will. My job is to make it personal for him, to elicit an emotional response that might lead him to reveal more than he intends," James explained, his voice steady and resolute.

"Sounds like a solid plan, but it won't be easy," Duke cautioned, his eyes reflecting the weight of their task. "Thartis is being controlled by a master manipulator. Are you sure we can pull this off?"

"Nothing's ever certain in a situation like this," James admitted, his gaze never leaving Duke's. "But I believe in our ability to adapt and think on our feet. We've faced worse odds before, and we've always come through. This time will be no different."

"Indeed," Duke agreed, clapping a hand on James' shoulder. "We'll see this through, together. Let's gather Roucke and prepare ourselves for what lies ahead. Also I would like a fourth person to bring in if it deems needed. But that is something to work with after this first phase."

With firm resolve and their intricate plan in place, James and Duke set out to face Thartis, determined to emerge victorious in this dangerous game of deception and manipulation.

As James and Duke continued to iron out the details of their plan, the importance of safety became increasingly apparent. The two men sat in the dimly lit corner of the room, their voices barely audible above the low hum of the torches.

"Listen," James began, his voice serious yet reassuring. "We need to make sure that each one of us is fully present during this operation. Any lapse in focus could put all of our lives in danger."

Duke nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I couldn't agree more. We must anticipate and adapt to any unforeseen circumstances. One wrong move could be catastrophic."

"Exactly," James replied, his eyes locked onto Duke's. "And remember, we're not just doing this for ourselves. We're doing this for everyone affected by Thartis' actions. We owe it to them to see this through safely."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the flickering flames casting eerie shadows on their faces. Their determination and camaraderie forged an unspoken bond, solidifying their resolve to bring Thartis to justice.

The interrogation room was located at the end of a long, narrow corridor, the cold stone walls seeming to close in on them as they approached. Bright lighting spilled out from the open door, casting a stark contrast against the darkness that enveloped the rest of the passageway. Inside, the room was unforgiving in its austerity, designed to intimidate and disorientate those who found themselves within its confines. The walls were bare, save for the occasional iron ring bolted into the stone, and the floor was equally unwelcoming, made of cold, unyielding slate.

Despite the harsh environment, James couldn't help but notice the potential weak spots in the room. His mind raced with thoughts of escape routes and defensive strategies, this would make the training rooms in Maine look easy. He made a mental note of the door's hinges and the gaps in the stonework, knowing that even the smallest advantage could make all the difference.

"Look," James whispered to Duke, his eyes darting around the room as he pointed out the potential hazards. "We need to be prepared for anything. If Thartis tries to escape or attack one of us, we have to be ready."

"Agreed," Duke responded quietly, his gaze following James' gestures. "We can't afford to underestimate him. We'll stay vigilant, and we'll protect each other."

As they absorbed the details of the room, James couldn't help but feel an odd mixture of dread and anticipation. He knew that the stakes were high, and the risks even higher. But he also knew that with Duke by his side, and their carefully crafted plan in hand, they had a fighting chance.

With every step closer to the interrogation room, James felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. His past experiences and survival instincts melded together, preparing him for the challenge that lay ahead. And as he steadied himself, ready to face the danger head-on, he knew that failure was not an option.

The low hum of their voices reverberated through the dimly-lit chamber as James and Duke meticulously gathered the necessary equipment for their plan. A whiff of damp earth tinged the air, yet the atmosphere was thick with determination. The flickering torchlight danced across the stone walls, casting elongated shadows that seemed to stretch out in anticipation.

"Double-check the bindings," James instructed, his fingers deftly inspecting the ropes they would use to secure Thartis during the interrogation. His eyes, keen from years of honing his craft, scrutinized every inch of the material. "We can't risk him breaking free."

"Understood," Duke replied, his own hands mirroring James' movements, the callouses on his fingers evidence of his long history in this dangerous world. As they worked, the two men exchanged glances filled with a sense of camaraderie, understanding that trust was vital in this high-stakes game.

"Are we prepared for any magical interference?" James questioned, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Don't worry," Duke reassured him, producing a pouch filled with powdered silver. "This should neutralize most spells." Their preparations were meticulous, the product of both men's desire to safeguard not only themselves but also those who would be assisting them in their endeavor.

As the three individuals involved in the plan took their positions around the interrogation room, their hearts raced, and their minds buzzed with anticipation. They communicated through subtle gestures and nods, their well-practiced choreography evidence of the hours spent refining their strategy. Outside the door, the observer stood sentinel, his sharp eyes scanning the corridor for any potential threats.

"Remember," James whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his heart, "we're in this together. Stay vigilant and protect one another."

Duke nodded, his fingers flexing around the hilt of his dagger. "We've got this," he replied, his words infused with a quiet confidence that bolstered their resolve.

As they stood on the precipice of action, their preparations complete and their positions taken, James couldn't help but be reminded of his former life as a Marine. In those days, teamwork, trust, and precision had been paramount, and now, in this strange new world, they were just as vital to their survival.

"Ready?" Duke asked, his eyes locked on James', searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

"Ready," James confirmed, the word solid and unwavering, much like the conviction in his heart. And with that affirmation, they set their plan into motion, each one keenly aware of the weight of responsibility that rested upon their shoulders.

The air crackled with tension as James, Duke, and their third accomplice moved in sync, like the gears of a well-oiled machine. Thartis, bound and sitting on a wooden chair in the center of the room, eyed them warily. Beads of sweat formed on James' brow as he carefully approached, his mind racing through the countless scenarios he had meticulously planned in the event of any unforeseen obstacles.

"Talk," James growled, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. "Tell us everything you know."

Thartis sneered, his lips curling into a defiant smirk. "You think this will work? You're fools, both of you."

"Let's see about that," Duke replied, his eyes narrowed as they darted around the room, assessing every possible angle for an escape or counterattack.

"Remember," James thought, echoing his earlier words to his companions, "safety first."

As if on cue, Thartis lunged forward, attempting to use his bound hands as a makeshift weapon. The trio reacted instantly, their movements fluid and decisive, showcasing their training and preparedness.

"Nice try," Duke said, a wry smile playing on his lips as they easily subdued the would-be attacker.

"Think again," Thartis spat, his eyes filled with malice.

"Enough games," James muttered, his patience worn thin. "We don't have time for this." He glanced at the others, seeking confirmation, and saw it reflected in their determined eyes.

"Agreed," Duke said, taking control of the situation. James simply asked "Will you two please leave the room for a bit." knowing full well that they will still be able to observe from the outside.

After they left the room, James picked up a simple piece of wood. While his outside showed nothing but pain and anger, internally he chose this position as he knew that some one else could take it too far and hurt Thartis.