-Twins Greyhem-

Sillos watched as heavily armored groups of Deathguard, lithe squads of Dark Rangers, and the occasional smattering of the monstrous abominations hurried to and fro in the open square below. He did not trust the Forsaken and felt, no, knew it was only a matter of time before one or all of them stormed the small tailoring shop Vitus and he had commandeered as their shelter.

He frowned to himself as he turned his mind to the situation they were in. An enemy at their front and back, allies who would sooner kill them then not, and no retreat. He could not understand why Vitus would make the decision to help these people. Forsaken was a good name for them as all Sillos could see in their future was their demise either at the hands of these traitorous undead or by slowly being killed off. Clenching his fist, he physically stopped himself from acting on the frustration and anger that built in him. Being undead, it was so easy, so tempting, to give into the darker, more selfish emotions and at that moment all he wanted to do was grab his brother and drag him out of Undercity, cutting down any who dared impede his way.

His life before he was forced to become a death knight was foggy. He could remember much of it, memories weren't the problem. No, his struggle, his torment, was that he could not feel any attachment or longing for his past life. Memories of happy times brought only critical thoughts of impatience and anger while sadder moments barely affected him. I was like he no longer cared about his friends and loved ones who passed on to the Light. In fact, if he were asked now, he would likely answer that he truly didn't care. This was the true pain of undeath. He knew that he should care about others, about his family. He just didn't. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was one person, only one person, who he cared for. At least, that was what he called his loyalty to Vitus. Undead he may be, but even he would not set foot along the path of thought about his attachment to his brother. He couldn't fathom not caring for his twin. He would rather die than reach such a conclusion.

The stirring of cloth snatched Sillos' attention and he glanced to his right in time to see Vitus rise from his sleep. Four hours. That wasn't nearly enough time for the living to rest, much less one who had been in combat for several hours. However, he previously had this argument with Vitus and knew it was pointless to press the issue of the man sleeping further. Instead, he pursued a different interest.

"What are we doing here, Vitus?" His voice came out as a whispered growl.

His twin in flesh, blood, and soul strode to the windowsill and leaned on the opposite side to him. The man rubbed at his eyes, fatigue and weariness clinging to him like a cloak. "The Forsaken need help."

Sillos sighed, impatience evident on his face. "I understand that. My question was, what are we doing here? It is obvious that the undead do not want us here. They tolerate my presence but even a nitwit could understand the desire these people have to kill you."

Vitus' lips curved into a frown, his stormy blue eyes a reflection of what Sillos' once looked like, and he replied, "What is it you're really asking, Sillos?"

"Why are we wasting our time helping these people? We could have been near the border and that much closer to seeing Vel."

"Seeing Vel aside, why wouldn't we help these people? Should we have abandoned them to death?"

"Yes," Sillos stated with a firm sense of finality. "I would die for you, Vitus. But these Forsaken. I own them nothing. We own them nothing. Why are we here?"

His black haired brother sighed. "Because-"

"Oh, don't say 'because it is the right thing to do,'" Sillos snapped. "The right thing to do was to leave the Dark Ranger to die and mind our own business."

"You didn't have to follow me," Vitus returned, his own voice stern.

Anger welling up, he barked, "What choice did I have! I couldn't leave you to do something so stupid alone! These are a doomed people. You know it. I know it. Do you truly think the Horde will come with their armies to save these people? Their military power is minimal and they are more likely to turn traitor against their allies then stick with their loyalties.. By the Light, the only thing these people have going for them are their plagues which the Horde can't even use as the plagues affect all living beings. "

"What would you have me do, Sillos?" Blue eyes burned and Sillos saw a deeper emotions flash across his brother's face. Pain, anger, and sorrow swirling together to form a perfect misery. It was then he knew he had missed something. He had made a mistake. "Should I see you the same way?! You can't even stitch my wounds without infecting me with some disease. Your asking me to abandon these people is the same as you telling me to turn my back on you!" he shouted.

"Vitus-"

"I'm not done!" the man exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I am not a fool, Sillos. I know that it is unlikely the Horde will come. I know these people will probably be exterminated by this invasion. But if I leave them simply because of that or because they are undead or selfish or what have you then what argument do I have to stay with you? Wanting to help them because it is the right thing to do isn't a good enough answer for you? Then how about this, we are helping them because I can't lose you. Not again."

Glowing, pale blue eyes met dark blue. A moment of silence passed. Sillos nodded slowly. He recognized now what he had missed in his contemplations about helping the Forsaken. They helped the Dark Ranger because they would have done so if she was a living person. They were helping the Forsaken because they would have done so if any other people were in the same position. They were helping because it showed that they acknowledged these people are a people worth saving. Because it was the right thing to do. Because if they didn't then Vitus would be admitting silently to himself that Sillos wasn't worth saving.

The death knight nodded slowly. "I understand. I still can't say I agree with the risk we are taking being here, but I understand."

-Twins Greyhem-

Eight hours passed quietly. Loralen kept a steady gaze focused on the edge of the outer ring where it rounded the curve and disappeared from view. She was several hundred meters beyond the place where the Forsaken held back the initial assault of the traitors, working with her sisters and the Deathguard set up a new line of fortifications. Over the past few hours, General Clea and Volkmar Fletcher, the Commander of the Deathguard, were aggressive in their advance of the battle line. As a reward for their hard work, the Forsaken had held the Rouge Quarter for the past three hours. Even then, General Clea was still busy hunting traitors who had taken root in the area. Luckily, they had found pockets of loyal Forsaken still alive who quickly bolstered their ranks.

Currently, the battle line had been drawn just past the Rogue Quarter, Sillos and the paladin positioned in the center of the frontline. It was easy to find the two knights among the chaos. They had taken position in the middle of the front and the Deathguard maintained a wide berth around them. Both of them had fought in the engagements that resulted in their current positioning. She had watched from time to time as the knights carved a swath through the enemy, cutting down all who challenged them. Loralen was begrudging to admit that they were skilled warriors. Unlike the Deathguard who couldn't hope to compare to the dark rangers' abilities, these two could keep up with them at every turn. They worked hard in turning flanks, forcing the enemy into positions that allowed the dark rangers to shower them with arrows. Further, they understood the flow of battle and controlled a solid battlefield awareness.

The pale blonde looked back to the area in front of their line. The enemy would attack soon, she could feel it and looking around she knew her sisters shared that sentiment. They would charge down the main floor, the second inaccessible due to the Forsaken's mages destroying the connection. It would be a gruesome fight but in this battle numbers meant nothing. Not when they couldn't be utilized due to the limiting width of the lower floor. As it was, only thirty or so soldiers could stand shoulder to shoulder from the inner wall and the shops that lined the outer wall.

Loralen narrowed her eyes when she felt the floor under her shake. Everyone else must have felt it as well as the Deathguard fully manned the crude wooden battlements they had erected and her sisters focused their bows on the bend. The shake happened again and continued in a well timed manner. The only difference between each was that the vibrations grew stronger with each one. Almost like something was coming toward them.

Her eyes widened slightly when a screeching howl echoed through the air. She focused on the spot where the bend cut off her vision. The howl died down and a moment later she saw a four legged beast come rushing around the bend. It was cleanly some type of wolf but horrible corrupted by fel energies. Behind it came a mass of other beasts and she spied a dozen felguard charging down the middle, their massive blades held high or dragging on the floor.. She cursed softly. It wasn't just Putress who betrayed them. Varimathras had as well.

Loralen heard someone call out, "Demons!" and she noticed one of her sisters rush into the Rouge Quarter, no doubt to warn General Clae.

The demons stampeded around the bend while Loralen and her sisters unleashed their wrath when they came into range. She cursed again as she unleashed arrow after arrow. None had expected demons.

She watched as the demons collided with the battlements, splintering the poorly built wooden structures that collapsed under the weight of the assault. The Deathguard was pushed back two dozen feet before they stopped the enemy's forward momentum. However, the two knights remained unmoved. Their blades flickered in the torch light as every swing ended a demon's life. Both fought with everything they had, holy and unholy spells tearing through the enemy. The Deathguard worked to gain back the ground they had lost. Then the felguard with a horde of traitorous undead hit them. Kalira signaled her sisters to target the nine foot tall monstrosities and Loralen watched as the beasts cut down any Deathguard who challenged them.

A flash of holy light smashed into the right most felguard. The Greyhem twins roared in unison as they engaged the large demons. The felguard were the main frontline troops of the Burning Legion but even then they were vastly stronger than a normal warrior.

"With me, Loralen," Kalira shouted as she ran past.

The silver-blonde dark ranger didn't hesitate to follow her Captain. Three running steps and the two leapt off the second floor and landed lightly behind the Deathguard front. Each brandished wicked looking daggers, poison dripping off the keen edges. Loralen bolted forward, jumped off the backs of the Forsaken guards, and jumped into the fray.

Loralen preferred the use of her bow but she understood what her Captain was trying to do. With the Deathguard being pushed back so heavily, morale was critically affected. However, the visual presence of a few dark rangers on the field of battle would bolster the Forsaken's will to fight. Ducking and dodging around biting teeth and striking claws, Loralen slashed her blades at the enemy, paying any back for every foolish attempt on her life. Green demon blood stained her instruments of death and she took a quick spinning step to her side, slitting a nearby ex-Forsaken's throat open, congealed blood spilling to the floor. Every step, every move ended a foe and she could feel more than see Kalira beside her, jumping, stabbing, and tearing at the enemy.

A felguard bellowed as it rushed the two dark rangers and they danced around his jagged sword, nicking the demon here and there with every opening, every opportunity. The beast lasted only seconds against the deadly poison and skill of the two possessed. Through it all she managed to catch glimpses of the knights. They were surrounded, demons and undead alike beating at their heavy armor, but they did not back down. Shield in hand, the paladin called down golden light onto the field of battle, causing immense pain to any who dared challenge him. His blade was in constant motion and his shield acting almost independently at it intercepted deadly attacks from all sides. She watched as a demonic hound jumped over the mass of enemies, froth at the corner of its mouth, teeth bared. The paladin didn't seem to notice as the beast soar toward him. Just as it neared, a gleaming runic blade pierced it through the mid-section and slammed it heavily to the ground. Sillos, his face set in concentration, ripped his sword from the corpse as frost covered his armor, his breath coming in jets of white mist. Chains made of ice tore out of the ground, latching on to enemies and were pulled or dragged into range the death knight commanded.

The two knights fought like they were possessed. Sowing death and destruction in their wake. One would strike at an enemy and the other would defend against any who tried to take advantage of any openings. They fought with precision and seemed to understand the other on such a level that they would leave an entire flank open, trusting the other would cover it.

Through it all, demon wolves howled, ex-Forsaken screeched, and the felguard bellowed. Loralen and Kalira managed to help the Deathguard push the enemy back and they had to climb a hill of bodies to reach the battling knights. As Loralen grew closer she saw just how serious the battle had been. From afar it was impossible to see the gouges taken from the armor and the green, red, and brown clotted blood that stained their armors. Their shoulders moved up and down with every breath they took but they did not allow the Deathguard who charged up the same hill of corpses to envelop them. With mighty war cries on their lips, they lead the downward charge. Each step broke the bones of the bodies they strode on and the downward momentum as they rushed down the hill of bodies crushed their foes. The Deathguard did not hesitate in following them.

Loralen and Kalira took the spot the knights had held and looked over the battlefield while standing at the top of the artificial hill. They had their bows out in an instant, firing at everything. Fireballs and chunks of ice flew overhead, exploding and crashing into the mass of enemies.

The vibrations had grown stronger since they first started and a new roar echoed down the bend. Loralen fought the urge to cover her ears and looked at the bend just in time to see a massive bipedal, winged demon come stomping toward them. A Doomlord. Captain Kalira pointed, calling order that was drowned out by the chaos of battle but the intention was understood. Arrows and magic began to pepper the demon but none slowed its relentless push to the front.

A loud pop exploded next to Loralen and her instinct screamed at her to dodge. She jumped away from the noise and felt the heat of a fireball fly over her. She looked in time to see an imp grin at her and disappear with another pop.

"Imps!" she yelled as loud as she could. Then everything went to the abyss.

Dozens of pops signaled the arrival of a multitude of imps and demonic fire filled the air. The Forsaken screamed, the dark rangers changed their focus to the new enemy, and the Doomlord smashed into the Greyhem twins. The paladin blocked a massive attack meant for Sillos only to be thrown deep behind the Forsaken lines, his shield pinged, twanged, and sparked as it scattered along the ground. The death knight roared with an unholy fury as he charged the demon alone, his runic blade howling with unrestrained rage. The temperature dropped considerably and unholy magics swirled around Sillos. Ethereal hands sprouted from the ground, clinging to the Doomlord in an effort to restrain its movements and Sillos attacked. His blade was fast. His intention of sticking down the demon, clear. However, the demon met him blow for blow in a stubborn duel to the death. Metal scraped against metal as Sillos and the Doomlord traded blows and new gouges were dug into both duelists' armors. Wounds also started to appear with the death knight giving just as good as he got.

The Doomlord loosed a deep laugh as it broke free of the hands and sent a solid kick into the death knight's chest with its cloven hoof. Sillos flew back, landing heavily on the ground. Loralen and Kalira rushed to his side as he forced himself up only to drop back down, one of his knees giving out on him. No longer was his face the passive mask he had worn since she met him. Now, it was etched with a fury and rage that would have intimidated even the more stalwart of warriors.

The Doomlord marched toward them and Kalira raised her bow. Dark energies whirled around her as she manipulated the terrible forces at her command. She loosed her arrow and it shot off faster than any of her previous attacks, a trail of shadow streaming being it. The arrow hit the demon in the shoulder, piercing it's heavy armor and causing it to bellow in pain and anger. Another arrow came soon after, ice freezing the creature's left knee, inhibiting its movement.

Still the beast came, one massive step at a time. Loralen didn't know why she helped the heavy death knight up but Kalira covered them as they tried to put some distance between them and the demon. However, for every five horribly slow steps they took, the demon's one brought it closer and closer. The beast grinned like mad as it rose it's terrible sword over its head.

Suddenly, a flash of light blazed into existence to the right and the paladin, wreathed in a holy glow, charged the Doomlord. The demon's smile left its face as it tried to swing it's blade down to meet this new foe but it was slowed by a bolt of unholy energy which allowed the paladin to slash at the demon's belly. The living human cast his free hand toward the Doomlord and a force of light shot out of it, smashing into the monster. The Doomlord tore trenches into the stone brick ground as he was pushed back by the tremendous force and fell to one knee with a roar. The divine light of the paladin faded and Loralen finally saw just how battered the man was. His chest plate was caved in and it was a wonder on how the human could breathe in it.

The Doomlord growled as it stood back to its full height and the paladin retreated back to the group, a limp very apparent in his stride. Kalira stored her bow on her back and immediately took the man's arm as the four moved back, behind the line of charging Deathguard. They only made it twenty feet before Loralen looked back to see the Doomlord's massive blade tear through five Forsaken in one mighty swing.

The demon gave a toothy grin when it saw them and started toward them only for a hail of arrows and magic to meet it. The sound of a thousand war cries filled the air as a new company of Deathguard rushed forward.

Minutes later a horn echoed and Loralen glanced over to Kalira. "General Clea has signaled the retreat!" she called.

Together the dark rangers and the knights hobbled further back, the sound of heavy ballista bringing some relief to Loralen's ears. The Doomlord was a terrible foe but it would not last long against a barrage of ballista fire. She looked up to the bridge that arched over them. On it, seven ballista were set, their teams working hard to keep them firing. Four more on each side of the bridge made for a formidable force, one that even a Doomlord would be hesitant to challenge.

Slowly, the group made their way back to the square, setting the knights down at the foot of the stairs that led to the tailoring shop they had used under half a day ago.

"Stay here," Kalira said. "We need to see what's going on."

She waved to Loralen. The silver-blonde followed quickly, going back down the main path that led to the Rouge Quarter. They passed by groups of Forsaken, some injured moving back to the square and others fresh and ready for battle, until they neared the battlements of the previously held front. The same front they had held at the beginning of this civil war. Soldiers streamed in while projectiles flew out but they managed to find General Clea in the chaos. She was on the second floor, leading three companies of dark rangers. Magical arrows showered the enemy and it was clear that Clea had ordered everyone to put their all into holding the line. It was also evident that the Forsaken could not afford to lose this position.

Loralen and Kalira rushed up a set of nearby stairs and took up their bows when they neared their General. Clea glanced at them for a split second before returning to her marksmanship.

"Fine job holding as long as you did, Dark Rangers," she said. "We had just enough time to reinforce this battlement."

They thanked her without pausing in their grisly work. The Doomlord had not pursued this deep but the beast's bellows could still be heard echoing in the distance. The engagement lasted only a few more minutes until the traitors and demons realized how dug in the loyal Forsaken were. They fell back, leaving a graveyard in their wake.

General Clea watched the enemy retreat and waited nearly ten minutes after they had vanished around the bend before she allowed her troops to relax slightly. She called out orders to fortify positions, for companies to go here and there. Satisfied that everyone was working she turned her attention to Loralen and Kalira.

"Captain, Lieutenant," she said. "I commend you on your stand. You may have saved the Forsaken from utter annihilation." She looked around behind then and then to the front. "Where are the knights? I heard of their stand against the attack and the Doomlord. I admit, I wish to thank them for their efforts. I have never seen the Deathguard fight so hard before."

"They are in the Magic Quarter square, General," Loralen answered.

The ashen-haired General nodded and started toward the square, a dozen dark rangers following suit. They arrive at the spot where the knights were left to find several lieutenants and the commander of the Deathguard standing before the now standing twins. The paladin must have gathered enough energy to heal the death knight and himself but they still looked haggard and worn.

"My Deathguard could learn a thing or two from both of you," said an undead man. His heavier armor and the seals of honor on it marked him as the Commander of the Deathguard.

"Excuse me, Commander ," Clae said as she neared. "I wish to have a word with these two."

The undead looked at her and nodded. "Of course, General. I was just about to head to the front and relieve you. I shall have reports sent every quarter hour," he said as he strode off, the lieutenants following.

General Clae looked the knights up and down while Loralen did the same. Now that they were out of the chaos of combat she got a better look at them and she was taken aback by the damage they bore. Their thick, heavy armor was sundered in many places and gore coated them like another layer of skin. But the look on their faces spoke of their willingness to go back out if asked.

Clae clicked her tongue and stated, "I will have your armor repaired as fast as possible and a healer to look over both of you." She paused. Her tone softened slightly as she continued, "I owe you both a fair bit of gratitude. Rest. We will need you, both of you, for the coming battles."

The two men nodded and the General turned to leave. As she walked she motioned Kalira to come with her. The Captain moved to follow but only got a few steps before she fell to her knee with a hiss. Loralen knelt down to aid her and it was then she noticed the green glow of the fel under Kalira's black leather tunic. Working quickly, she undid the bindings and removed the tunic. The Captain's whole shoulder was aglow from the corruption.

"Felguard," she hissed. "I thought it was just a nick until it started burning a few minutes ago."

Clae looked back to the dark rangers with her and ordered, "Two of you take her to the healers."

However, before any of the Forsaken could move, Loralen saw the paladin step forward, his hand glowing softly with divine light. Before any could stop him, he knelt and placed his hand on Kalira's shoulder. The dark rangers pulled their bows to the ready, a few even flinching, ready for Kalira to start screaming. But she never did.

Kalira gasped as the light enveloped her wound and the green corruption dissipated. Loralen took in a breath as she looked to the paladin. The man was concentrating on what he was doing but what he had just done was far more impactful than he knew. He had not only willingly touched but healed a Forsaken. She was aware that he had done this before with her but it was something else entirely to see him do it with another. For a while she had just thought it was a fluke, that she had just become numb to the pain. But that wasn't the case apparently.

The paladin stood and said, "That should do it but I would still have a healer look at it just in case. Now, if no one minds, I really need some sleep."

-Twins Greyhem-

Word of the paladin's abilities to heal without pain spread quickly. The few Forsaken priests that existed requested to speak to the man but General Clae was unmoving on her position. The paladin, Vitus Greyhem, needed to rest. It had been five hours since the man and his brother retreated into the tailoring shop when the General called for Loralen.

Entering the Temple of the Damned, the pale blonde knelt before Clae. "General."

"Ah, Lieutenant Loralen," the undead woman said and waved away her advisors. "I want you to go and gather the death knight and paladin. Take them to the blacksmith to pick up their armor and head to the front. Scouts report that the enemy is gathering and I would...appreciate their aid in holding the line."

Loralen sighed. As she was the one who not only brought the knights to Undercity but was also the one who took responsibility for them she had been made the preferred go between with them. It was annoying.

"Yes, General," she muttered and left with Clae's permission.

As she left the temple, a voice called, "Loralen."

The silver-blonde dark ranger looked to her right and saw Kalira striding toward her. "Captain."

Kalira gestured for her to continue and Loralen walked out into the Magic Quarter square with her Captain beside her. "The General ordered the company to the front," Kalira commented.

"I'm aware," she replied. "I was just going to get our...guests."

Loralen glanced at Kalira and saw uncharacteristic interest in her eyes. The two talked as they crossed the square and climbed the stairs to the tailoring shop. They nodded to Sillos who was seated on the windowsill like always and entered the shop.

A few candles had been lit in the front room and a makeshift bed was thrown together in the corner. The paladin was leaning on the counter and it was obvious the twins had been talking. They both looked at her, likely waiting to hear what she was there for. Loralen looked at the two men. This was the first time she had seen both of them without their armor, save for the time she aided the paladin with stitches. Sillos wore simple black pants and a dirty white shirt while the paladin wore black pants and that ragged brown shirt. Their clothes were torn and ripped in several areas and the paladin's had old and new blood stains that nearly covered every inch of his clothing. If the death knight had been living, they would have looked exactly the same. Same six foot height, same facial features, and same muscular build.

"We are heading back to the front," she said. She scanned her eyes over the paladin and asked, "Are you ready to go?"

Vitus smirked. "That's the closest thing to caring I've heard from you."

She glared at him and growled, "You are, admittedly, useful to have on the front and we would be fools to not use you. Also, Sillos won't go to the front if you are not ready. So, our going to the front all depends on you."

The infuriating smirk didn't leave the man's face as he replied, "Then yes, I'm as rested as I can be considering the situation."

"What, being surrounded by the undead?" Loralen snapped in her expected cold, emotionless voice.

"No," he answered. "Being under siege." He pushed off the counter and stated, "We were going?"

Kalira held her hand up and said, "Hold on. I wanted to ask you something."

"You were wondering about why the Light didn't hurt you," the paladin guessed.

The dark ranger nodded slowly. "How?" she all but demanded.

The living human smiled softly. "Why should it?"

"I'm undead. A tainted blemish on this world born from the evil that is the Lich King and his mechanizations. The Light is a force for pure good. As far as I understand, it does not tolerate evil in any form. The Forsaken were each born from darkness and evil. The Light burns us because we are unworthy of being saved."

"I don't believe that," the paladin replied bluntly.

Kalira looked at the man, her mouth slightly agape. "Excuse me?"

Loralen was taken aback as well and worked hard to stifle any reaction. The Forsaken always viewed themselves as dark. Some would even say evil. With undeath, good emotions were dulled and the negative ones were amplified. It wasn't a terribly difficult step to take to think they were, in fact, evil. They certainly had the disposition for it. They were a scheming, self-centered people who only held loyalty to others of their kind; others who were cast off from society and viewed upon as filth. For this paladin to say that he didn't believe that was shocking and naive in many regards.

"It's simple really," the man explained. "I don't believe the undead are evil. I can't believe that. If I did, I would have to accept that my brother is evil and beyond any type of saving. I can't and won't do that. Honestly, my experience in seeing the loyalty the Forsaken have for each other shows me just how wrong that thinking is. I don't know why the Light doesn't hurt the undead when I call it. I wish I did so I could teach others, but I don't. I wish I could give you the answers you want but all I can really guess at is that your thinking is wrong. The Forsaken and the rest of the undead are not evil, just poorly understood. Anyone and anything is capable of great good or terrible evil."

Loralen was taken off guard with the paladin's response and she could tell by Kalira's look that the Dark Ranger Captain was too. The Forsaken had always viewed themselves evil but for someone to tell them they weren't was...different.

Shaking her head, she heard a raspy chuckle coming from the window. Sillos had a genuine smile on his face, his glowing eyes slightly brighter. "I think that about sums it up," he said. "Now, if we're going to the frontline, we need our armor."

Loralen nodded slowly and led the two knights with Kalira across the square to the makeshift blacksmith. Both of the knight's armor were repaired as best as time would allow and the knights equipped themselves quickly before heading to the frontline. Loralen and Kalira split from the brothers and joined their sisters on the second floor. The front line was tense and even the dark rangers around Loralen were more agitated than normal.

A horn bellowed from behind the Deathguard and the dead marched forward. Looking to the marching soldiers, Loralen noticed the two knights leading in the center of the formation.

-Twins Greyhem-