W
Weracious
Guest
Original poster
The church located at the centre of the city was a massive white building placed on top of a wide step pyramid. Four spires reached up from the church grounds towards the dome above. The tall doors of the entrance inspired a certain respect in anyone who walked up the main stairs, or fear in those whom the templars forced to the church.
The city itself was a busy and modern metropolitan, with neon signs and monorails, which made it seem dirty in comparison to the white church in its centre. The jarring difference between the two, old and new, was evident to everyone, but due to the church's power within the city it could be difficult to tell which one didn't belong. Was the church a remnant of old ways, or had it allowed the city to grow up around it? Was the city only tolerated as long as it obeyed the laws of the church?
A pair of templars in power armors appeared at the base of the main stairs, red crosses visible on their chests, and between them they held a woman. It wouldn't matter how much she struggled now that they had caught her disobeying the word of god, and the laws that the church had imposed upon the city. They carried her up the stairs, careful not to let her walk herself as some had resisted by refusing to walk at all and gotten dragged up the stairs. She looked small and insignificant next to their hulking frames. It wasn't that they cared whether anyone got hurt before they had brought them before the inquisitors, but that the inquisitors themselves prefered to inflict pain on deviants to make them confess.
The templars who guarded the tall doors opened them, and allowed the pair carrying the deviant to enter the church. The interior was the same white marble stone as the exterior, with a ceiling painted by a master and sculptures in gold stationed around the sanctuary. They turned away from the sanctuary, right, and went through another smaller door that lead to the prison cells.
They locked the woman inside of a cell, and left her there. Half a day passed before anyone came to take her out, and when they did they brought her to an interrogation room. The room was simple, a table and two chairs, white walls. They strapped her hands in chains and made her sit in one of the chairs. The chains connected to a mechanism that could pull them back until the captured individual hung by their hands from the ceiling. It was a simple security measure.
Two hours later another woman entered the interrogation room. Sigrid Von Zeiger was an inquisitor, and a rehabilitator. Someone they brought in to deal with hopeless cases. She exhibited an air of patience, and indifference. Her eyes were piercing, and made even the most pious turn away, as if they were afraid she could discover their worst thoughts. She could, if given enough time.
Sigrid sat down in the empty chair, then put a folder and a recording device on top of the table. She straightened her hair, and eyed the other woman.
"Do you have anything to confess, child?" Sigrid said with a tone devoid of emotions. "You'd make it easier on yourself. You are in my domain now after all, and I've broken tougher individuals than you." A smile so faint that most thought they had imagined it showed on Sigrid's lips for a second. "We could do it the hard way too, of course, if you would like that."
The city itself was a busy and modern metropolitan, with neon signs and monorails, which made it seem dirty in comparison to the white church in its centre. The jarring difference between the two, old and new, was evident to everyone, but due to the church's power within the city it could be difficult to tell which one didn't belong. Was the church a remnant of old ways, or had it allowed the city to grow up around it? Was the city only tolerated as long as it obeyed the laws of the church?
A pair of templars in power armors appeared at the base of the main stairs, red crosses visible on their chests, and between them they held a woman. It wouldn't matter how much she struggled now that they had caught her disobeying the word of god, and the laws that the church had imposed upon the city. They carried her up the stairs, careful not to let her walk herself as some had resisted by refusing to walk at all and gotten dragged up the stairs. She looked small and insignificant next to their hulking frames. It wasn't that they cared whether anyone got hurt before they had brought them before the inquisitors, but that the inquisitors themselves prefered to inflict pain on deviants to make them confess.
The templars who guarded the tall doors opened them, and allowed the pair carrying the deviant to enter the church. The interior was the same white marble stone as the exterior, with a ceiling painted by a master and sculptures in gold stationed around the sanctuary. They turned away from the sanctuary, right, and went through another smaller door that lead to the prison cells.
They locked the woman inside of a cell, and left her there. Half a day passed before anyone came to take her out, and when they did they brought her to an interrogation room. The room was simple, a table and two chairs, white walls. They strapped her hands in chains and made her sit in one of the chairs. The chains connected to a mechanism that could pull them back until the captured individual hung by their hands from the ceiling. It was a simple security measure.
Two hours later another woman entered the interrogation room. Sigrid Von Zeiger was an inquisitor, and a rehabilitator. Someone they brought in to deal with hopeless cases. She exhibited an air of patience, and indifference. Her eyes were piercing, and made even the most pious turn away, as if they were afraid she could discover their worst thoughts. She could, if given enough time.
Sigrid sat down in the empty chair, then put a folder and a recording device on top of the table. She straightened her hair, and eyed the other woman.
"Do you have anything to confess, child?" Sigrid said with a tone devoid of emotions. "You'd make it easier on yourself. You are in my domain now after all, and I've broken tougher individuals than you." A smile so faint that most thought they had imagined it showed on Sigrid's lips for a second. "We could do it the hard way too, of course, if you would like that."
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