The women struggle and put up some fighting, but what can they do against trained guards? Some of the men are also alarmed and want to intervene, but the weapons hanging on the belts make them stop.
So, this is how the Church works. Or, at least, how this man here does.
They pay little to no attention to me, so I continue eating my meal and taking mental notes.
If they have any standard procedure, either it sucks, or this man is not using it. He's looking at the women with a wily smirk, making me shudder for them. His eyes shine with a malicious, evil light. He has all the worst intentions, for a change.
«Whose garden is this?» he inquires, standing next to the closest cabin.
«M-m-my,» one of the women stutters. She's white like a sheet, ghostly almost.
