Aredian, Uther and others in “The Witchfinder”

Do you smell it? Do you smell it, Uther?

Aredian.

It’s all around us, the foul stench of sorcery. It’s infected your great city like a contagion.

I welcome you to Camelot, Aredian. Thank you for making such haste to be here.

Well let’s hope I’m not too late, mm? For every hour counts in the war against sorcery. Unchecked, it spreads like a disease; seeks out the young and the old, the weak and the able, the fair and the foul of heart alike. You have grown lazy, Uther. You’ve grown idle. Your once noble Camelot is rotten to the core. You stand on the brink of dark oblivion.

I am at your disposal, Aredian. The knights will aid you in any way they can.

You must be Arthur.

I must be.

You’re a great warrior – the finest this kingdom has ever known.

Thank you.

So you won’t be offended when I say that I shall have no need of you, or your knights. The subtle arts of sorcery can only be fought by yet subtler means, methods honed over decades of study. Methods known only to myself.