82 - The Lazarite
He told me he was a type of Latin called a Frank, and that he had sworn his life to the Knights Hospitaller, and within them, to the Order of St. Lazarus. I noticed he did not eat or drink anything, and that when the wind died away, he had a faint, unpleasant smell of rotten sweetness. “The Order of Saint Lazarus…” I began. “Indeed,” he said. “It is composed of lepers.” The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com