The walk to the dungeon was punctuated with a spring in Gallus' step. He knew that the interrogation would be a sordid business, but he felt as though there was valuable information to be had. However, Gallus' confident expression faltered when he heard the words of the impostor imprisoned through the doorway to the cell they opened first. She was pitiful, really. Her apparent pain was not something that Gallus had braced himself for. As well, the complete absence of an arm was as confronting as ever. Her burns, covered by fresh bandages, bordered the stump of her shoulder with cringe-inducing deformity.

Gallus put on a stern face to hide his feelings and slowly stepped into the cell. He needed to try and understand this woman properly in order to give the right approach, but it seemed like she had been in such constant torture that she was broken already. Gallus stepped up to the woman and took a knee on the floor in front of her, staring into her face. "We need to know your name," Gallus said monotonously. Her response would dictate her real disposition.

[hr]
Fendros straightened, listened to Irenya, and blinked. When she was done, he glanced away, took a small breath, and gave a small, conceding nod. "This is true, I'll grant," Fendros said, also rather uncomfortably, but not pushing Irenya away, "We could do something. I suppose it would...not have to be a great..." Fendros trailed off as his face scrunched up a bit. He faced Irenya as if she was wearing a silly hat, "I'm sorry, it is not a problem or anything, but, it's just surprising to hear this from [i]you[/i], Irenya. Can I ask why you are interested in this?"