You are thrown roughly into the office, your hands bound. Your head bounces off an expensive rug as you hear the door close behind you. You struggle to your feet, seeing the Inquisitor seated at a beautiful desk. A cheap metal chair has been placed across from it. "Oh, so you're the heretical trash they found slinking around in the sump, are you? I am Hested Kamryx, but you will call me 'Inquisitor' or 'Lord'. Is that clear?" They gesture towards the crappy metal chair, their long nails catching the starlight. You notice they smell like smoke and iron. "Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss before it's time to dispose of you. Oh, and head directly to the chair, please. I don't want you dragging your filth all over the carpet."