We appeared in one of the many jail cells in the Department of Enforcement. In front of us, about a dozen pit guards under the direction of a frazzled-looking demon were struggling to contain Halkkor's second in command.
"Niven will be able to tell us what physical dangers his species can withstand," Gavsot said confidently. He strode over to his demon, who was barking orders at the pit guards. "Torvin, report," Gavsot said.
"Sir, the usual cocktail doesn't seem to be doing any good," Torvin replied. "We've had to keep constant guard instead. He's been resisting us. He's very stubborn, sir!"
"Usually we periodically stab our inmates with a cocktail designed to sap strength and supernatural ability," Gavsot reminded me. "This approach seems to have failed us in Niven's case."
"Okay," I said. "So if we don't know how to weaken him, how to we get information out of him?"
"Violently," he replied.