>>5583863>>5583866Of course, Montjoie ! Saint Denis !
>>5583898>>5583941>>5584014It was for a good cause, the extermination of witches who desecrated bodies !
>>5584016>>5584026Probably, I do not think that the count will be pleased to learn that some guildsmen dare to arrest his guests.
No time to lose, Montjoie ! To war ! Death to the witches ! Sus ! Sus ! You made sign to your comrades at arms to charge and opened the door.
Only two of the heretics were not sitting, they were walking towards the door, it was a woman and a moor. You saw that only the saracen was armed with a blade and charged him. He was still too shocked to unsheathe his sword and even with your headache you managed to gut him in the stomach, hitting once, then twice, twisting the dagger in his innards then pushing him on the floor and stomping on his head in the marble floor. Different emotions rushed your mind, it reminded you of the assassin fight, this exceptional sensation of fighting people of your size and killing them. Those small green Ghibellines and those kobolds were simply wimps but here, even if this moor was not strongly built he reminded you of someone you could have fought in France and you remembered the delicious sensation of killing an enemy up close. The best way to describe it would be the thrill of the hunt, coupled by the satisfaction of feeling that you had one less problem. It was in those moments that you remembered that behind all the veneer of piety and civilisation made by knighthood your family descended from those terrifying Frankish warriors who put an end to the roman rule in fire and blood and subjugated the local celts. They were a savage and violent people, even if they converted, and it was in those bloody battles that you connected with your ancestors.
