Knightmare27
Literotica Guru
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- Jun 16, 2011
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NOTE: This thread is for MaidenFair and me. I forgot to put that in the title. Sorry.
A proud building, the new Witches' Tower. Yes, proud and majestic, if a little less intimidating than he would have preferred, with its red tile roof and light limestone walls. Friedrich Wohlschläger, the executioner of Nürnberg, looked at it with satisfaction as he and his two assistants walked up the hill. Normally, he worked down there in the town, hanging thieves, whipping blasphemers and, occasionally, decapitating those whose noble birth had entitled them to this mercy. He was a professional who did not take special pleasure in the brutality of his work, but like any craftsman, he was proud of a job well done.
Thus, he had seen it as an honour when he was asked to leave his usual work to his apprentice for a few weeks and come here for a large witch trial the bishop was planning. He had never worked with witches before, but he did have some experience with torture (some thieves could be awfully reluctant to confess their crimes), and his selection showed that the bishop trusted him to go about this special trial with the same precision and care he was known for in the town.
At the gate, made of dark wood and heavily reinforced with iron, he was greeted by two guards of the bishop, then by the judge after one of the guards had gone inside to fetch him. A tall, serious old man with a look in his eyes that frightened even him (and he was not even standing trial!), he gave the executioner a formal greeting, then ordered one of the guards to show him around and allow him to get familiar with his new workplace.
The tower had two basement levels. The lower one housed the torture chamber, which was exceptionally well-stocked (he actually had to ask the guards on the mode of employment of some of the more outlandish instruments. Secretly, he hoped never to have to use them.) The upper basement level had the holding cells, small, dank holes with barred doors. There was also a cell which the guard said was "for hard cases" which was so small he could barely believe a human could fit in there.
The ground floor was mostly storage, with the first floor holding the actual courtroom. A simple room, with heavy oak furniture: A desk and three chairs for the judge, executioner and scribe, an altar and a chair for the accused. The second floor was the room for the executioner and the guards (the judge was staying at the bishop's palace): Simple straw mattresses, a rack for the guards' weapons and not much else. At least he had a private "room", or rather, a part of the room separated from the rest by wooden walls. Quite simple, but he did not mind.
He thanked the guard for the tour and went downstairs. The judge had told him that the first witch would arrive soon. Sure enough, the judge were already sitting at the desk and sorting through their files when he entered and took a seat, ready for whatever witch might come his way.
A proud building, the new Witches' Tower. Yes, proud and majestic, if a little less intimidating than he would have preferred, with its red tile roof and light limestone walls. Friedrich Wohlschläger, the executioner of Nürnberg, looked at it with satisfaction as he and his two assistants walked up the hill. Normally, he worked down there in the town, hanging thieves, whipping blasphemers and, occasionally, decapitating those whose noble birth had entitled them to this mercy. He was a professional who did not take special pleasure in the brutality of his work, but like any craftsman, he was proud of a job well done.
Thus, he had seen it as an honour when he was asked to leave his usual work to his apprentice for a few weeks and come here for a large witch trial the bishop was planning. He had never worked with witches before, but he did have some experience with torture (some thieves could be awfully reluctant to confess their crimes), and his selection showed that the bishop trusted him to go about this special trial with the same precision and care he was known for in the town.
At the gate, made of dark wood and heavily reinforced with iron, he was greeted by two guards of the bishop, then by the judge after one of the guards had gone inside to fetch him. A tall, serious old man with a look in his eyes that frightened even him (and he was not even standing trial!), he gave the executioner a formal greeting, then ordered one of the guards to show him around and allow him to get familiar with his new workplace.
The tower had two basement levels. The lower one housed the torture chamber, which was exceptionally well-stocked (he actually had to ask the guards on the mode of employment of some of the more outlandish instruments. Secretly, he hoped never to have to use them.) The upper basement level had the holding cells, small, dank holes with barred doors. There was also a cell which the guard said was "for hard cases" which was so small he could barely believe a human could fit in there.
The ground floor was mostly storage, with the first floor holding the actual courtroom. A simple room, with heavy oak furniture: A desk and three chairs for the judge, executioner and scribe, an altar and a chair for the accused. The second floor was the room for the executioner and the guards (the judge was staying at the bishop's palace): Simple straw mattresses, a rack for the guards' weapons and not much else. At least he had a private "room", or rather, a part of the room separated from the rest by wooden walls. Quite simple, but he did not mind.
He thanked the guard for the tour and went downstairs. The judge had told him that the first witch would arrive soon. Sure enough, the judge were already sitting at the desk and sorting through their files when he entered and took a seat, ready for whatever witch might come his way.
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