Isylian Desert West, 14:31, 34th day of Rho of the Seventh Era

Bitter hatred, desire for oblivion, and seething vitriol. Such vile ideals are the core of the metal soldiers, as they march on bearing the flag of a black shroud of smoke behind themselves. Carrying wrought iron weapons made from those who suffered under a fist that demons themselves would fear, these metal automatons travel down the warpath under the harsh desert sun, destroying any and all that dare stand within their way.

Yet, unbeknownst to them, spies of similar, yet contrasting stature lay within the desert dunes, with eyeglasses extended far, as they watch the thunderous legion of iron barbarians travel towards the east.

“They show no sign of stopping, or even resting.” A voice called out between one of the three half submerged within the sand, wings of leather fluttering faintly under the sand to cover the knight up slightly.

“Intercepting them is going to be difficult, I doubt we will be able to use traditional techniques to take advantage of the scene.” Another, deeper voice came from the dunes, the general color and design of their armor being akin to an emerald scarab. One of their many arms clutching a thick polearm, twisting their grip within their hands, as their upper hands held the magically enhanced eyeglass steady.

“If I’m correct, their general path looks like they’re going to go straight through the settlement of Tiamun. We could most likely set an ambush there, but civilians lives will most likely be endangered.” A third, baritone voice called out, the voice seeming to come from a rippling, white desert robe, tightly surrounding every limb and part of their body.

“Either way,” The first voice meekly interjected. “If these...things enter Tiamun, they may harm civilians regardless, directly or indirectly, through that toxic smoke they release.” The leather clad suit slid down backwards of the dune, concealing their body from view from the marching automata. The two other voices soon pursued the path the leather knight took.

“Hmm...Jacques, call two squadrons of knights, and perhaps champion Baroque, tell them of our plan. If we get any assistance, we can set up an ambush and evacuate the civilians.” The baritone knight responded, the white robes fluttering and flicking around weakly in the desert winds

“And if they don’t?” Jacques responded, turning their head up to the robed knight’s large figure.

“Then we shall die for our cause before they can reach the settlement.”

The robed knight then put their fist against the center of their chest. Jacques reciprocate the salute, his leather wings spreading afar, loose sand pouring from the crevices between their wings, before taking flight into the desert skies, soaring to the closest outpost to relay the information.

“Well then.” The emerald carapaced knight turned to the other knight, adorned with the white desert robes. “What is our plan then? Do we wait for Jacques to return, or should we begin heading off towards Tiamun?” He stretched his pair of arms around, fixing some of the plating along his back.

“We will be heading off to Tiamun, Mersian, hopefully sooner than that ‘iron legion’ can get to it.” The robed knight tightens the robes and various fabrics strewn across their body, patting the sides of their body for their blades, making sure they were still in their spots. “Now, let us embark, shall we?” The robed knight begun their rather quick journey as they begun to run discreetly behind the desert dunes towards the east, with Mersian following soon after.