"Let us see what information it can give us. We can always change our mind later"
After a few threats, the Skis'raal begins to talk. "We were exiles from what you call the Fungal Jungle. There was so much food, wasn't there, my love?" It says, turning towards the corpse of the other spider as if expecting an answer. "Oh, Azraak." it wails.
A few more threats prompt it to continue. "We came out here, we did, searching for food, but there has been so little. Until now." It seems to lick its lips at the webbed up gnomes behind, forgetting for a moment that it is completely outmatched. "They didn't warn us that there would be others coming." It hisses in accusation. "We listened, we did, and we did what was asked for the food, but we weren't warned. And now it is too late. Oh Azraak, my love."