Sir Aldric, Sir Magnus Calder and Sir Lucien Kael

Sir Aldric of Valenroth (the leader)
Age: 41 years
Height: 1.92 m
Profession: Grand Knight Templar / Commander of Order
Place of origin: Valenroth Fortress, Northern Kingdom.

Skills:
Master of the longsword: Precise, defensive, and lethal combat.
Field strategist: Reads the terrain and anticipates enemy movements.
Unbreakable will: Resists pain, extreme cold, and psychological pressure.

Personality: Calm, honorable, thoughtful. He speaks little, but every word carries weight. He protects his men like brothers.

Sir Magnus Calder (the guardian)
Age: 36 years
Height: 1.88 m
Profession: Vanguard Knight / Living Shield
Place of origin: Valenroth Citadel

Skills:
Heavy combat: Mastery of shields and blunt weapons.
Superhuman resistance: Can fight wounded for hours.
Tactical protection: Form human walls in battle.

Personality: Loyal, direct, and firm. He doesn't talk much, but he always delivers. His biggest fear is letting his teammates down.

Sir Lucien Kael (the watchman)
Age: 29 years
Height: 1.82 m
Profession: Templar Explorer / Heresy Hunter
Place of origin: Valenroth border village.

Skills:
Natural observer: Detects traps, ambushes, and hidden signals.
Speed ​​and precision: Quick and lethal attacks.
Stealth in armor: Able to move without being heard despite the metal.

Personality: Analytical, restless, reserved. He has a dry sense of humor and a constantly alert mind.

The icy wind carried ancient ashes across the valley as the three knights halted before the Order's fallen banner. Sir Aldric plunged his sword into the frozen earth, leaning on it as if swearing an oath to the world itself. To his left, Magnus stood motionless, watching the flanks; to his right, Lucien peered into the mist, reading for unseen dangers.
They had been sent to the White Border, a cursed frontier where ancient Templar relics had vanished and entire villages spoke of shadows in broken armor. The Order didn't believe in ghosts… but they did believe in traitors, and something dark was brewing in the north.
Days earlier, an entire patrol had been found dead, with no signs of combat. Aldric understood that this wasn't the work of mere bandits. Magnus, silent, adjusted his grip each time the wind shifted. Lucien, on the other hand, knew that something was watching them from the mountains.
When the first ambush occurred, it was swift and brutal. Creatures encased in ancient iron emerged from the blizzard. Aldric led the defense with surgical precision, Magnus held the line against impossible forces, and Lucien outflanked the enemy from the fog, cutting off their retreat.
After the battle, they discovered Templar symbols engraved on enemy weapons—but distorted, desecrated. The truth began to unravel: an ancient, rogue branch of the Order had survived, warping its oath to serve something older than kingdoms.
Now, the three knights march not only to stop a threat, but to purify the legacy they swore to defend. The cold will not stop them. Nor will blood. For as long as one of them breathes, the cross will still stand against the darkness.