| The sound of iron crushing flesh rose in the air.The sound of an elite unit, perfectly trained and disciplined, steps in perfect rhythm unbothered by rough terrain. A moment passed and he came into view. A single man wearing enough armor to outfit a dozen, an ever shifting pole arm with enough metal to provide weaponry resting on the left shoulder plate. He trudged threw the corpse field as if an evening stroll. His armor, all five layers of it, little more cumbersome then loose cloth. He adjusted the positioning of his weapon as it shifted into a weapon reminiscent of a flail. It was natural to him, after decades of carrying it into battle he knew it's ebb and flow as surely as a sailor knew the rolling of the sea.
Knight, for a knight he was, stopped. He had gotten to close. Those twisted souls within the tower were watching, waiting. So did the armored one. Heavy guarded helmet shifted slightly. Something, or rather someone was coming. If foe, so be it. If friend, he would welcome the aid to end the "research" taking place. |