The morning mist clung to the ground like a ghostly shroud, swirling around the feet of the knights as they assembled at the edge of Govean. Their armour glimmered faintly under the pale light of dawn, swords strapped securely to their sides, eyes sharp with resolve. It was a smaller contingent than most search-and-rescue missions, but every soul present stood firm with conviction. Their duty was to find the missing scout or, at the very least, discover what fate had befallen him.
Their tigers, majestic and powerful, were left behind. Luke watched as the beasts paced restlessly, their sharp eyes following the knights with almost human-like understanding. It was a decision made after much consideration; the wasteland stretched before them like a barren, unending sea, its unpredictable terrain and unknown dangers better navigated on foot. Tigers, for all their strength, would be too large, too vulnerable in a place where even the ground could not be trusted.
