This organization calls itself the Inquisition. My last visit planeward had been maybe... three years ago, but I was trying to subtly nail that down in the market when I'd been discovered. Back then, there'd been a reformation in the ranks and a push for a softer title, something less associated with their acts of torture to create the confessed out of the accused. Seems it hadn't stuck. Call a mace a mace, I guess. They were the same ol' chaps from where I sat. A door opened and I tried to get a look at my new company; my shoulders flexed as my head lolled to one side, which made my wrists chafe against the rope. Last time, they'd all been so uncomfortable in dresses and tunics. They weren't part of the fivefold faith anymore, and they hadn't been acknowledged by the military or civilian forces. From what I could tell with my difficult view and the weak daylight leaking through the unglazed windows, I thought these leathery coats and capes were the best so...
Worlds are best when they feel heard