Crackling lightning seemed to surround the the figures atop the hill, their crimson eyes glaring out at the feild beneath them. The hordes they had been following lay strewn about, like some diseased mass of flesh corrupting the other wise darkly beautiful landscape of grassland. The figures, moving on some unspoken unheard signal, began to whip the reins on their mounts, motioning the black stallions into action. The huge warhorses neighed as they charged down the grassy incline, causing the soldiers on the outter edges of the gathered army to turn their heads, wondering what idiots would dare charge so brazenly into such an over powering force, out numbered over a thousand to one. Had they known what they were gazing at they would have fled in terror… Pestilence, Famine, Death, War… four ordinary soldiers who had been utterly corrupted by evil, and yet managed to twist that corruption into a dark gift, using their unholy powers to annhilate all evil they came across. But the horde did not know…