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Chapter 18Arc 7: : Faith of a Crowfriar
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... revelations while evening settled over the winter countryside, armored footsteps made me turn.
“Lord Cyril,” I greeted the fort’s commander. The young knight nodded a quiet greeting to me. Clad in white and gold, the Stork of Osheim looked well matched to the sterile background, like a flash of pale sunlight in cold surrounds.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “You reminded me that we all have a role in this war, Ser Hewer. The hunger for glory has poisoned the Houses for far too ...
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