She'll storm into the jail and find the jailer

Ursula's nature was a bit hypocritical: she expected everyone in the church to go through proper channels for everything, give advance notices, follow protocal, etc., but when the time came to go to the knights for something, she wasn't willing to wait in line. Rather than head to the desk, she presented her amulet bearing the church's cross and heart, as though it was some sort of badge, then pivoted from the front desk towards the jail cells. Nobody moved to stop her... that was either because she was known to be a powerful former inquisitor or simply because they knew that getting into a fight with someone from the church would be worse than whatever she'd get up to down there.

"Could be an inquisitor's what we need to get them inmates in shape anyway. Geod knows our jailer's not doin' it..." Saying this, one of the elders peeked his head up with interest, watching the counselor's large, eye-catching, habit-clad caboose as the stormy woman made her way towards the cells. He wouldn't want to get on her bad side... but he also wished he could find an excuse to nip away and see what she was up to...

When one thinks of the Knightly Order of Dyna, one tends to think of brawny men and women. Even though their captain defies those expectations somewhat by being the bouncy type rather than the athletic type, there ranks are full of the lean, the muscular, and the otherwise physically impressive. Ursula's expectations were those as well, so when she came down to the cells and found herself towering over the jailer by at least a head, she was momentarily surprised. The shorty of a jailer, wearing the knight's crossed swords emblem, had the body of an eighteen year old girl and might not be much older than that herself. A perfectly nice and cute shape... for a student of the college. Ursula remembered herself during the inquisition days... all toned biceps and back muscles, but with a rack and and ass that would stupefy men into submission. "They should either pick a hulking brute of a jailer or seductress of one... How is she supposed to extract anything from the criminals looking like that?"

Presently, the jailer was busily reading the new knight's manual with her face practically pressed inside the pages, as though trying to ignore the walls of barred-in inmates watching her do so. The red spread across her cheeks and ears made it clear what she thought of the reading material. Her wardrobe consisted of a black, sleeveless tunic with a high neck, tied at the waist with a leather belt and sporting matching black shorts, which showed off her girlish, pale legs. Her whole body was pale, not just because she was an elf, but also, judging by all of the personal effects (food, toothbrush, etc.) behind her table, she rarely seemed to leave the darkness of the dungeon. The girl's hair was short and sandy blond, cut like she'd tried to do it herself with a pair of sheers (which is to say, in Ursula's opinion, not terribly well). Her pointed ears and the brows above her glimmering green eyes both twitched as she perused the salacious list of behaviors that knights were now expected to enact in order to win people over to the knights. Her shoulders were slumped and she'd practically curled into a ball behind her table, as though hiding from her own prisoners.

Seeing the girl of the enemy faction reading that offensive material, full of ideas that had clearly been stolen from the new church's new initiative (at least as far as she knew), infuriated Ursula. The girl was so absorbed in the book that she didn't see the counselor coming until the woman's black-gloved hand reached out to grab the book and lift it from her heads, then slap her on the top of her head with it. "Aaaack! Prison break! Prison break!" the hapless jailer shrieked, then began to scramble for the alarm bell at the corner of her desk.

Ursula grabbed it before she could reach it, then held it out of reach. "I'm no prisoner, you silly elf. This is the security that's holding back the worst scum of our city? You?" the purple-haired woman sighed, her gray-blue eyes regarding the cute jailer with contempt. "You're naught more than a plate of food, left slightly out of reach of the inmates. If one of them should break loose, you'd be devoured just like dinner..."

"That's rude!" the jailer complained, grabbing her manual back in lieu of the bell she couldn't reach. "I'm the jailer... I keep all of these bad guys in line! I know it's a thankless job, but it's not usually this thankless! Who are you, even? I wasn't told anyone was coming down..."

The counselor clicked her teeth. She hadn't made a particularly good start in terms of getting information she needed from the jailer. If nothing else... the stack of files arranged on shelves behind the young girl looked promising. There could be something about the dark-haired, black-winged angel she was looking for in those. "My apologies. I am Ursula Wilmette, counselor of the Holy Church of Merridan. I'm here to ask about the criminal activities of a certain indivdual..." As a show of good faith, she set the small hand-bell back down onto the corner of the desk.

"... Hyte Blackleather," the girl introduced herself. Her surname was undoubtedly something she'd chosen herself based on her occupation as some of the dwarves, elves, and the like with more difficult pronunciations tended to do when they took up residence in a human settlement.

Still, Ursula thought that Blackleather was a rather ridiculous name for the small girl. It sounded ominous and fearsome... the girl looked like she'd never so much as hit a man, let alone killed one to earn an assassin-like name like "Blackleather."

As if sensing that Ursula was still criticizing her, the girl puffed up her cheeks in a pouty expression that was far cuter than it was threatening. Ursula noted that she didn't seem to have any kind of weapon... a ring of keys jingled at her waist, but no club or knife. "I don't feel particularly inclined to help you, Miss Wilmette. Busting in here and making a ruckus... Seems you didn't make any kind of formal request for information, either. Pulling information from the archives can take a while... You're supposed to submit a formal request..." What had started as scolding turned into whining as the jailer pushed her fingers together sheepishly.

The girl's craven behavior only aggravated Ursula further. She slapped her palm down upon the desk and leaned her heaving bosom across, causing the other girl to press her back against her file shelf. "This is a matter involving both danger to the people of Merridan and slander against the Holy Church of Merridan! I must peruse those files and learn everything I can about previous reports of a black-winged angel who has been defaming the church!"

"N-No!" the girl cried, spreading her arms as if the wall of her body could deny the woman access if she wanted to reach them. "I need to know your intent first! What are you going to do if you find the record of the criminal you're looking for?"

Ursula realized she couldn't exactly reveal her plan was to hunt down the angel, tie them up in a dark room somewhere, and then use her old, draconian inquisition techniques until their beans were thoroughly spilled all over the floor. "Tch. I only want to see a criminal brought to justice." The counselor clicked her teeth, then straightened her back and pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps we can offer an exchange of services. I can be amicable."

"... A-Are you propositioning me, ma'am?" Hyte questioned, clutching two black gloves to her cheeks and looking red as a beet. Her bare knees knocked together tellingly.

Ursula marveled at what a snack this young girl would be for any prisoner that managed to break free from their cell. "No." Ursula's blue eyes glared behind the circular frames of her glasses. If anything, she was more interested in the unwashed male prisoners here than she was the pretty girl jailer. "But I can offer you something, all the same."

"... A bribe?"

"Not a bribe!" Ursula clenched her fists with frustration at the annoyingly straight-laced jailer's provocations.