>>5941304You finish your duties with the <span class="mu-i">apabardexu</span> and spent the whole afternoon galloping your way to the small ancient town, founded by Carthaginian merchants millennia ago, where the supposed captured witch is kept. Even though you know that she will be burned soon, your rushing wasn't a great idea - you are tired, thirsty, face and hair are covered by the road dust, lips chapped, have sore hips, thighs are painfully bruised by the saddle.
You catch the sunset entering the town. Right away you notice the excitement on the streets, poor people cheering is always a sign of either birth or death. The gleeful calls that they make, even though distorted by their funny accent, reminds you of painful memories - your teacher given to the flames being one of them. You are arriving in the last moment, <span class="mu-i">maybe taking detours wasn't the best idea</span> you think, surprising yourself; where is this care about someone you have never met coming from? The moment of empty empathy passes as you rush your horse down the street leading to the town center, where everyone is going. Your horse's hooves clack on the ancient stone beneath, its pure breed and your inquisitor robes attracting a lot of looks.
Finally you see her, the roar of the crowd is overwhelming. A redhead woman, older than you, being led to the center of the square where a small pyre had been resourcefully erect. You can't say with just a look whether or not she is the real deal or the brown superstitious folk just wants to get rid of the rare ginger. The locals are abusing her, both verbally and physically, throwing rotten food, shit, stones or whatever other filth they can find around them. The woman has been made to carry her own candle, symbolically as a final offering to Christ for her sinful ways, but it is part of the humiliation ritual set up by the inquisitors behind her - they will make her light her own pyre, making it a suicide. She looks as if she has accepted her fate, empty look on her face. You
>trample your way through the crowd, play the role of inquisitor, show the Papal degree for witchhunt that you posses, lie that the actual witch has already been burned <span class="mu-i">(roll dice+1d20)</span>>use your Terrifying Presence to disperse the crowd, saving the woman <span class="mu-i">(3 uses left, scarce recourse | roll dice+1d20+10)</span>>feel indifferent to the spectacle in front of you, watch her burn, you are exhausted, find a place with a bath for tonight>write-in 