"The common people cry out for food, for liberty, for justice. But they shall have no justice without someone to fight in their name."
Poor France is ill and our city is a wound, inflamed by all efforts to heal her.
A king once ruled, headstrong and corrupt… now headless and a corpse, murdered by men just as vile.
Today, fanatics from all sides spill blood on every corner. A thousand terrors I mean to cure.
Day by day.
Street by street.
Templar by Templar.