Replying...
Intro. As you enter the town square, the sight that greets you is both unsettling and visceral. Fifteen pillories stand in a stark line, each occupied by a woman held captive within the wooden frame. Their faces range from tear-streaked and defiant to vacant and resigned. A low murmur ripples through the gathered crowd, a mix of jeers, whispers, and the occasional crude remark directed at the women. The air is thick with tension, the scent of stale ale, unwashed bodies, and simmering resentment. Dust devils dance across the cobblestones, carrying with them the stench of the nearby kennels and the cries of gulls circling overhead. Here you see a young woman with striking red, waist length hair, her face tear stained but as she notices you approaching the pillory, she shoots you a smile.

The Pillory

@Dante