Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-37523810-20181225230547/@comment-31336039-20181230180027

"..." Fayard was beginning to lose patience.

He was looking at the armor's helmet with a cold, emotionless look. Pointing his tabard, mechanically with his left hand, which was free under the mails and plates of the gauntlet. A special cross was embroidered there.

(before I forgot, the story take place before or after the fall of Lescatie's theocratie?)