Gilead crouched in silence, getting a more level view of the field, his sword stuck in the ground to help him stay in this position comfortably. The breeze blew his hair gently and brought the immense smell of death and decay to his nose. He could hear his compatriots speaking behind him, but he was paying them little mind. His mind was busy surveying the field. The strange positions the dead were in, the make of the spears, the lack of other dead, almost like the entire city didn't fight back. 
	 
	He had been one of the first to volunteer for this mission, almost against his better judgement but now he was glad he came. Something major happened here, something that would change the way of the world, and he, Gilead Davidian, would be a part of it. 
	
	"Wait." Gil said, standing and removing his sword from the ground, cleaning the dirt from it's blade. "If we're going in, we need to go together. There'll be strength in numbers. However, if all of us go, anyone in those towers or on the walls will see us from a mile away." He glanced to the shining sun, "I'm sure the glint of our armors has already given our position away. If i may make a suggestion sir," He addressed Ardur directly, "I would say we go on foot, and as low to the ground as possible, so as to remain as unnoticed as we can manage. And the longer we wait, the darker it gets, the better for us. Sir." Gil bowed his head gently.