The End of Valour | Tales of the Knights III

  Deep within the stormy wilderness of the scrap-forests to the east, a machine-giant roamed the lands.
 Humanoid in stature but animalistic in nature, it had bulldozed its way along an imaginary path through the territory of the Northern Kingdoms, caring little for its surroundings as it displaced whole communities along its course and trampled their homes and livelihoods underfoot. In some respects, this lack of interest was a blessing, as the lumbering monster had made no attempt to attack the fleeing citizens or to effortfully cause further damage by diverting its path, and in the following days it had headed back into the forests directly across from the point of its encroachment. However, a creature capable of bringing such casual devastation could not be allowed to wander freely so close to the outerlying settlements, nor could it be allowed to escape without consequence for the destruction it had wrought. Delegates of the eastern kingdom petitioned the Grand Regent, master of the Order of Knights, for a punitive response and his judgement was in agreement. Detachments from the second and tenth knights cohorts, assisted by attached elements of the regional guards, would be sent to hunt down the beast and exact vegeance upon it.
  For weeks, the two groups had tracked their target through the clutter of the wastelands, and with each passing day the leader of the second had liked their allies in the tenth less and less. They were a mysterious faction who had seemingly sprung into being, following the events that had toppled the famed sixth cohort. Even with their legacy tarnished, the sixth had earned the respect of many, and the idea that a new band of knights would suddenly appear as if to replace them had earned the scorn of many. Nonetheless, his lord back in distant Breta had ordered that these forces work alongside each other, and he had intended to use this chance to dissipate his unfair biases towards them. And so he had conversed with his counterpart in the tenth, hoping to foster a sense of comradeship with stories of heroism and hardships overcome. The other commander always responded, but never in kind: in answer to his tales, they offered past strategies employed to pick apart and overwhelm the foe; instead of hardships, they spoke of combat inefficiencies and counter-methods - 'optimisations' they called them. Their face was hidden by their helmet the entire time.

  If there was one compliment that these strange knights had earned so far, it was their skill as trackers. In this land of wrecks and ruins, the only sign by which to locate their prey was the recency of the damage. The teams of knights, all plated in the same plain, minimalist black as the one who led them, remained spread out in a wide formation as they moved, signalling anything they found to the rest, and steadily directing their progress. The success of these efforts meant they were now no longer necessary, as their soon-to-be opponent towered over the twisted, metallic shapes that covered the landscape over the remaining distance.
  They would not have long before the battle began. The stomp of boots on the hard earth, the collective drone of their individual power supplies, and the vivid blue and white of the second cohort's heraldry. All of these factors made stealth inaccessible to the knights, but that was hardly a loss, as subterfuge was not the way of the knights and they would only earn a true victory by braving the monstrosity's gaze to claim it. But for now, the ancient, metal structures and their echoing groans in the wind covered the force as they moved into position.