Five-point star

Ten knights rode forward at a measured pace, their steeds' hooves striking the earth with a steady rhythm that echoed through the vast, arid plains. Sweat trickled down their foreheads, not from exertion but from the gnawing tension that sat heavy in the pit of their stomachs.

It wasn't every day that ten men, bound by duty and steel, found themselves tasked with confronting a horde of more than a thousand. The odds were almost laughable, yet here they were, their armor glinting in the sun like fragile scales before a storm.

Luckily for them they were not there to fight, though they did not know if it would come to that , after all many time reason and laws bend to the stronger.

At the head of the group rode Sir Eryndor the one tasked by Lord Niketas to deliver the ultimatum. He cursed under his breath as his horse trudged forward, dust rising with every step.

Of course, it had to be him.