The scene could be best described as hellish; what was once a prosperous farming community was being slowly consumed by flames, smoke blacking out the sky. The crackle of burning wood filled the air, accompanied by the crash of metal and, on occasion, screams of fear and death. There were still those fighting and dying, doing their best to stand against the tide of darkness that had engulfed their town. It was not that they knew that they stood a chance; it was more that they had no option, knowing that their attackers were without mercy or compassion.<br/><br/>They were known simply as Dark Knights; a force of warriors twisted and corrupted by dark magic, unleashed upon this world as a plague of evil, the minions of a greater power sent to do his work. Their blades and dark magics were dangerous enough, but that was not the limit of the threat they possessed. Their minds were enthralled to those dark powers, making them remorseless, merciless killing machines, ones that existed to do nothing but destroy on their master’s whim.<br/><br/>The woman’s long, dark red hair billowed behind her in the heat as she walked, a look of grim determination in her unearthly red eyes. An arcane sigil marred the side of her face, twisting what could have once been a fierce beauty into something eldritch and unnatural. The rest of her body was concealed behind a suit of orate dark armour, its design made just as much for intimidation as it was for protection, arcane signs built into its form.<br/><br/>But the most dramatic sign was the greatsword she carried; The massive blade featured the same dark runes as her armour, ones that seemed to glow with some unknowable energy. While held in her hand, the weapon was also chained to her wrist, the length of heavy links clanking as she walked. She was every inch the image of the Dark Knight; the merciless killing machine.<br/><br/>Something caught her ears, a sound from a nearby patch of rubble. Stopping, she turned, stalking slowly towards a half-collapsed hut, her weapon at the ready for whatever may lurk within. Stepping into the hut, she was ready for whatever she may find, whatever opponent she may face. Instead, she was greeted by something else – a trio of children, none older then twelve, their faces white with fear.<br/><br/>Her orders told her that their should be no survivors. Her mind said otherwise. Lowering her blade, she stepped back a moment, glancing out the door. “Go now.” She simply said to them, her tone flat and neutral. “Flee while you have the chance. If one of the... others finds you, they will not be so kind.” It was an act of disobedience, one that simply should not be possible; her mind and will were supposed to be enslaved to her master’s will. And that allowed for no leeway, no room, no options. All should fall before her and her kind.<br/>