It’s a cold and quiet evening in Jerusalem, and you find yourself to be hungry, and tired. You make your way to the nearest inn, and welcome yourself to the warmth of a fire… Inside this inn, sits half-a-dozen mercenary’s, whom all talk and drink in their corner, and a lone knight, who sits at the bar-keeper’s counter, still wearing their helmet, strangely. You sit yourself a few seats away from them, and wave to the bar-keeper. The knight seems to acknowledge you, with their calculated gaze…