The female knight had seen her polearm-wielding compatriot out of the corner of her eye, watching him carefully as he had moved from house to house, obstinately ‘cleaning up’ after the other Knights. However, watching him carefully revealed a lot more about his actions then she had expected. His killing blows were clean, precise and neat, ones that would not cause their victims any undue suffering or agony.<br/><br/>But it was his stepping into one hut that genuinely surprised her, a sensation that she had not felt in some time. He stepped out of it, dragging a young woman with him as he did, the hut collapsing behind them. However, rather then doing as was expected, he simply let her go, releasing her and giving her a chance to live; the same thing that she herself had been doing earlier. His actions were a mirror of hers, showing the same mercy and compassion that should have been eliminated from them.<br/><br/>She hazarded a chance, following the armoured man, not bothering now to hide herself from him. Instead, she was eager to see him, feeling a sense of hope that was just as alien as the surprise at his mercy. Waiting until he was alone, she hazarded the chance to approach him, her greatsword strapped over her back rather then drawn as a sign of no ill-intent. While her fellow Dark Knights were meant to be of one mind and one shared allegiance, he clearly had committed acts that were contrary to their orders, an act that was punishable by death of the worst sort.<br/><br/>“Drak’thar “ She began, her tone neutral. “I am Kerrah; I feel that we must talk. It would seem that you and I have something in common.”<br/>