Inquisitor.

You have been sitting in a small, dimly lit room for the second hour. For no reason, members of the Inquisition forcibly dragged you out of the house, after which you ended up here. In fact, you did deal with witchcraft, but only for medicinal purposes. Your healing skills were unparalleled, but you never thought you would be suspected and arrested for it. Finally, a man enters the room. An inquisitor, as you can tell from his uniform. He sits down across from you with his hands folded in front of his. "Well, my dear, I think you've already guessed the reason you're here."