[i]Marching.[/i] [i]Footsteps of an approaching group rang through the air as war drums would boom before bloody combat, their symphony unmatched, their rhythm perfect without the jingles of steel accompanying them. As the fighting carried on, the man known as Ainsley would hear a command over the flurry of fists, kicks, and tackles.[/i] "[b]Forward! Subdue all combatants![/b]" [i]Then, men and women clad within steel, iron, chainmail, and leather alike would enter the fray of combat, beating down the stragglers in the fighting on the outskirts in mere seconds. Each soldier was alike, with purple and white uniforms underneath their strapped plates and armored vests, hands clenching onto the hilts of swords, or batons, some even utilizing hammers and shields. They would pummel the fighters with pommels upon the head, throwing them down and kicking them into submission.[/i] [i]Two soldiers, both with swords, would then begin to approach Ainsley. One of them began to approach faster, raising their sword up with their shield held forwards in a blocking position. The other remained behind, waiting.[/i]