Vitus rematerialized in a dark, candlelight room, completely furious. He marched by a startled Inquisitor and underneath a portcullis door into a large room. Various torture equipment lines the walls, with torchlight reflecting off their polished surfaces. Vitus followed the particularly high-pitch screams of one victim to the back of the room. There, under the painted, ever-watchful gaze of a merciless Farore, he saw a fellow Inquisitor standing beside a whimpering man tied to a rack.
"Please.... confess, and this could be over quickly" the Inquisitor said in a kind, almost fatherly voice.
"I..... I told you people..... I don't know anything about.... about any conspira- GAH!"
The man screamed as the Inquisitor calmly cranked a wheel, and the mans arms and legs were pulled by rollers on the top and bottom of the rack. Vitus could barely hear either the sickening popping sounds of the man's muscles and ligaments being torn apart, or the cracking of bones over the man's bloodcurdling shrieks and cries.
The Inquisitor stopped turning the wheel and looked at Vitus with a surprised expression. Hastily he performed a salute of raising one hand to his right, the other to his left, and then putting them together in front of his forehead. "Brother! Why have you returned so soon? Did you find the cult so soon?"
Vitus returned the salute with a frown. "No," he growled, "we have a much bigger threat now."
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