The dungeons underneath Viarosa's keep were similar to those all across the continent - dark, dank and cold. It was a seemingly-endless maze of crumbling stone and black iron bars with very little natural light. Instead, small torches sporadically placed on the walls provided what little light there was. 

Silence in the dungeon was rare - not entirely surprising given the nature of a few people who were imprisoned. If prisoners weren't arguing with the dungeon's guards, you could be sure that they were arguing with each other. And that was on the best of days. 

Everyone who had participated in the brawl in the street found themselves in the dungeon's cells; they had all been interrogated and were simply waiting for what would come next. Plenty of time had passed, but nobody knew exactly how much. Definitely a few hours, at least?

While the [i]official[/i] capacity for the cells was five people, the guards constantly and conveniently forgot about that - everyone that supported Gottmar, and Gottmar himself, were crammed into one cell. The others didn't have it any easier, as they found themselves in the same position. Everyone had their weapons and armour confiscated from them; those who wore nothing but underwear under their protective gear, like Rhiara, could count themselves lucky - she got to keep hers.

Insults were occasionally traded between the two sides, but there wasn't much anyone could do besides that. A pair of plain city-folk were in the midst of a particularly strongly-worded argument when a loud 'clack' and then a drawn-out 'creak' from the dungeon's entrance made them both quiet down almost immediately. A few pairs of footsteps came stomping down the hallway towards both of the cells.

The source of the sound was a duo of guards, decidedly less well-armed and armoured than their counterparts that apprehended the group. They wore simple leather armour and carried a shortsword with them wherever they went. Accompanying the guards was a [i]very[/i] well-armoured man clad in full plate armour with white and blue accents.

One of the guards pointed to Gottmar, and then at Athaliah, Sorano, Ceara and the rest. "These are the ringleaders; the ones the Chevaleresse-Lieutenant will want to see." The other guard nodded and walked towards Gottmar's cell while the knight stood watch. 
"Your lucky day, scarface." the man sneered at the witch-hunter as he used his key on the cell door; the knight behind him had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to deal with anyone who thought about running while the cell was open.

"Were it a lucky day for any of us, you would not have intervened in the execution of my sacred duties," Gottmar snarled, glaring furiously at the guard. He rose, stepping through the open cell door to face the knight.

Meanwhile, his companion did the same to the other door; Sorano, Mostafa, Mortirmir, Rhiara, Athaliah and Ceara were all escorted out of the cell, the knight's presence ensuring that everyone else stayed inside. Both of the doors were soon locked again.

Athaliah and Sorano glowered at Gottmar, who did the same in return - the only thing stopping them from trying to kill each other were the armed guards separating them.

The journey into the keep itself didn't take too long - soon enough, the group was walking along the richly-decorated hallways filled with valuable paintings, statues and other trinkets that only the insanely rich would own. Milo Demetrios, the man who owned the city and the keep, couldn't resist flaunting his weath, it seemed. 

Eventually, they reached the keep's church; somehow, it avoided the disgusting lavishness that had affected the rest of the keep. It was actually somwhat bare, especially considering that it was one of the more important churches in the city - all the nobility would go to worship there, and the local knights of several holy orders called it their home.

Waiting for them was a woman in her early thirties, with brown skin, braided brown hair and sharp, grey eyes. She wore a set of blue and golden robes; while it was a bit more form-fitting than normal robes, it still did an excellent job at covering her up. Both Sorano and Gottmar recognised the colour combination and the exact type of robe - the woman belonged to the Vilvere Order, from to the east a ways.

She walked forwards to meet the group; the woman moved with purpose, like a soldier, rather than taking the delicate steps of a priestess. The way she moved also gave hints as to how powerful her legs were - she wasn't someone who sat in church all day.

"Chevaleresse-Lieutenant." the knight bowed his head respectfully, finally breaking his silence to greet his counterpart. From his accent, he was Illyrican, probably nobility. "This is the group that caused chaos in the streets. According to scarface here," he gestured one of his hands in Gottmar's general direction. "the rest of these people are demon summoners, while [i]they[/i] claim that they're trying to save the world from some god-killing dragon, or something." the knight shrugged. "They say that they have proof, but it's only some notes that look like they were written by a madman."

The woman, now confirmed to be another knight, raised a critical eyebrow as her fellow knight shared what he had learned. "And you expect us to believe that?" she said flatly, looking at each prisoner with a less than amused expression. She had a distinctive southern-Rosilandi accent. "Do any of you want to clarify it for me?" she glared at each person besides Gottmar, daring someone to volunteer.

Ceara stepped forward, nodding her head respectfully before speaking.  "Look, lady-knight, we hadn't done anything to cause this fighting.  We were just eating and talking, nothing close to the intentions that this bedlamite has accused us of."  The thief looked down.  "He brought us outside and tried to set us ablaze like a bloody madman.  We had not a hand in it, I swear."

Athaliah nodded slowly at the redhead's explanation. "It's true, madam." she added. "We were discussing the contents of the notes - we were hoping to use them to find wherever our... associate, made camps, and continue our quest from there."
The woman let out a simple, unconvinced 'Hmm' before turning her full attention to Gottmar. "You. Care to explain why you thought these people were demon-summoners, and a threat to the realm?" she took a quick glance at the rest of the group, Rhiara and Athaliah in particular. "To me, it looks like they're just inexperienced 'adventurers', barely out of their teens."

The witch hunter gestured to the rest of the prisoners, contempt in his eyes. "I heard them myself, huddled around a table in the corner of a tavern, speaking in hushed tones of demons, of sorcery and death. Conspiring, clearly, to commune with creatures of the Infernum." He made the sign of Calidorus across his chest. "Tell me, lady knight, have you spent decades of your life hunting all manner of witches, warlocks, undead abominations and heretical demon-worshippers? For my fellow Brother-Soldiers and I have done just that, and more besides. You will heed my words, therefore, when I say that the innocent appearance of these heathens counts for naught. Justice [i]must[/i] be served."

"I'm inclined to agree." the knight frowned at the rest of the group, disapproval plainly written on her face. "Tell me about this 'god-killing dragon' that you claim to be trying to stop." that specific detail was the part that intrigued her the most - after all, her order was founded on the art of hunting dragons, and all its knights still pursued the craft. "How do you know it can kill gods, and how do you know it exists in the first place?"

Sorano had been silent up until this point, carefully considering his testimony. At this point, his scholarly knowledge would help convince the Vilvere Knight. "The journals were written by a man named Bjorn, the third survivor of the Krossavik Disaster. The Godslayer's name is Htraknu, the one responsible for the village's destruction. That much, I can assure you, is no myth," he explained. "Furthermore, ask any priest with any shred of genuine piety what they felt little over a week ago; as the Order of the Knights Solanian feasted in Castle Mirador, Grandmaster Aquila and the clergy -- all ordained with the proper rites and the orthodox understanding of holy orders -- experienced a violent portence that Hargash had died, the cosmic order thus sent into discord."

The robed knight looked disturbed at the mere mention of Htraknu; she and the Order knew that it was he that attacked Krossavik and other villages in northern Asmeinland, but they were never able to find and kill him. Now she was hearing that he had killed a god. She had a sudden, almost crippling headache a week before that awoke her from her sleep, but she had no idea what caused it. Until now. "You're certain?" her voice was almost silent and much less commanding. It was a moment of weakness she would make sure wouldn't happen again.

"We are, my lady," Rhiara spoke up. "We know two of Krossavik's survivors... They told us of an artifact, a... a scalpel? It was in their village when Htraknu attacked. They said that the scalpel had the power to kill Hargash... Now Hargash is dead."

The knight spent a second or two thinking on what the archer had told her. Their story definitely added up, much to her own dismay. After all, not only did she know that one of the only dragons to have escaped the Order was now a threat to the entire world, she now knew that the people in front of her were associated with that order of heretics in Mirador. People she absolutely despised.

She turned to Sorano with a sudden, newfound fury; she grabbed the elf by the collar of his robes and pulled him towards herself. "Now, don't you [i]dare[/i] talk about 'genuine piety' with me, heretic." she snapped. "The other Orders, they may tolerate your power-hungry lies, but [i]we will not[/i]. Your band of heretics is doomed to fall, one way or another."

Relatively unfazed as the knight yanked him close, Sorano glanced down at her hand with a mild grimace. "Now while I can certainly understand the anger with which you disparage me, I must ask you to quell it for but a moment," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Firstly, these folks who are with me are not of the Order. I and I alone follow the Son of Our Lord Solanius, and should you hold anyone here for 'heresy' then let it be me, as these others go free."

He reached to gently brush her hand away, giving her a more stern but sincere look. "Secondly, Lady of the Vilvere, I would have expected you were aware that Viarosa, once a shining citadel of progress and trade, has fallen into corrupt hands. The love of money over the Gods has become apparent in many a nobleman, and undoubtedly some clergy. I wouldn't think to question your faith -- and I see that you are a holy woman -- but that of Viarosa's." He paused a beat, glancing over to Gottmar. "And should it be of consolation, that however power-hungry you believe us to be, at least Aquilans refrain from burning the innocent alive on misunderstood hearsay for a God who does not canonically desire such action."

Depsite Sorano's admittedly half-hearted efforts at getting free, the knight kept her grip on the elf's robes - at least until he finished speaking. His selflessness surprised her; she hadn't expected such values from an elf, and a heretic at that.
She finally released her hold on him, pushing him back as firmly as she pulled him before. "My being in this rat's nest of a city is not by choice, elf." She turned her attention to Gottmar, who himself looked to be on the verge of snapping. "As for you, I advise restraint in the future. Not only did your actions lead to half a dozen deaths, but almost resulted in the information they hold being lost forever." She was unimpressed with his conduct, unsurprising given that he was supposed to be part of an order too. "As much as I'd like to have an example made of you, we have more pressing issues right now."

Gottmar snorted. "Restraint? Had I exercised restraint, and my suspicions of these people had proven to be correct, what then? Certainly, we would be facing far worse consequences than a few deaths in a street brawl. Do not dare presume to tell me how to do my job, 'knight'." He turned to Sorano. "And you, heretic, do not lecture me on the will of the gods! You are soft; weak. If it was left to the likes of you to interpret their wishes we would all have died out centuries ago."

"I'll tell you how to do your job whenever I damn well please, especially since you insist on being this bad at it." she retorted coldly. "What was it, five minutes after you entered the inn that a brawl started in the streets, and you've got nothing but damaged pride to show for it? Get out of my sight."

"Absolutely not," the witch hunter spat. "If this dragon is real, and as powerful as you claim - and still I do not believe you entirely - then certainly I cannot allow the task of slaying it to be left to a gang of jumped-up heretics." He glared at the knight. "And as your order holds precisely no authority over mine, you will not attempt to issue commands to me again. Is that clear?"

The knight opened her mouth to retaliate, but she was cut off by a new voice.

"It interests me immensely that mere moments ago you were willing to slaughter my allies in the streets on simple impulse, refusing to believe our justified claim that Htraknu has slain a Shaitun," said Lucian Aquila, his presence now announced to those in the room. He and Nima stood together with the guard that ushered them in, but until this point none of them had sought to interrupt the Knight Vilvere.

"...and now that you have but the faintest inkling of faith in that same claim, you seek to cut us out of the picture and claim our task for yourself that you may seize the glory?"

Lucian smiled, chortling in amusement as he momentarily glanced at the knight, as if checking to see if she found that as noticeable as he did. "Unfortunately for you, I don't think anyone else in this room is willing to let that happen. Were the responsibility of the world's salvation left to a murderous wretch who responds to a castrated ego by puffing up his chest against those who hold him accountable for his actions, and who cannot stand to work with others for the betterment of Thurius, then there certainly [i]would[/i] be far worse consequences for everyone on Thurius than the casualties you caused trying to stop better men and women from saving it."

"Pretty words, preacher," Gottmar replied, voice full of malice. "I wonder though, are you prepared to back them up? For if you are not willing to 'let' me do something, surely it falls to you to stop me." He gestured to Lucian, beckoning him forward. "So come on then. Stop me."

"Enough!" the knight yelled at the top of her voice; it seems her patience had finally worn thin. With a simple tilt of her head, the two guardsmen, who were still present, restrained both Lucian and Nima. Meanwhile, the other Vilvere knight grabbed both of Gottmar's wrists in a grip of iron.

"Let me make this perfectly clear, if any of you so much as [i]breathe[/i] towards each other, I will kill the both of you." She stalked towards Lucian with a scowl on her face, shoulder-checking Gottmar along the way. "Tell me what that creature is doing here." she didn't even bother looking at Nima. "Now."

"The Easterner, I would presume," Lucian replied, glancing over at Nima. "He is a close friend of the red-haired woman over with the others. On our way to Viarosa together we encountered a village being razed by Hargash's spawn, in a frenzy following their sire's demise. Though the village was lost, we succeeded in intervening in their attack long enough to rescue a great many civilians, who are being sheltered in a hostel not far from the market square," he explained. "The Easterner was wounded in the process, and as per their fickle customs, a cleansed flame was needed before he could accept my healing power."

"As you could probably gather," he casually gestured to the filth on his tabard and face, "I had to search for something he could use to burn for the proper rites. It was moments after I had sealed his wound that this wonderful gentleman here accosted us for attempted arson, though I can assure you this was not our intent." He directed an open hand to the guard whose left arm was locked around his right, weapon at the ready should the Grandmaster try anything brash.

He paused, looking the Knight Vilvere over. "I can tell as it stands that the two of us rather heavily disagree on the details of my ontology, and on our respective doctrines regarding the Gods and the dragon race. But let it be said that I have no ill will to express. Our world is at stake, madame, and I can tell you have a heart for the Gods and their Commandments, as well as for the people of this realm. If you have not already seen the notes that Bjorn of Krossavik composed on Htraknu for yourself, we would be well pleased to show you. Doubtless, a Knight of the Vilvere Order would be instrumental in bringing down the Father of Dragons once and for all, that never again the tragedy of Krossavik could be repeated?"

Her only response, at least for a few seconds, was a deep sigh. "Let them go." she spoke with a certain tiredness in her voice. Lucian, Nima and Gottmar were released from the grips of the guardsmen and the other knight. "Alright, you've convinced me."

She took several steps backwards. "I'll need to tell the Clergy of my intentions... you lot are going to wait just outside, under guard." she began, before turning to her comrade. "Chevalier, make sure these people don't move a muscle until I'm ready."
"Of course, ma'am." he gave his commander a respectful nod before walking towards the exit with everybody in tow. The city guards also took their leave, intending to support their knightly companion.