Saurus Knights bind the warrior-caste to the cold one, a saw-toothed reptilian predator with a temperament somewhere between warhorse and landslide. The pairing works because neither half doubts: the rider drives home a celestite lance with spawned precision, and the mount takes its wages out of whatever the lance leaves behind.
There is no affection in it, and none is needed. Rider and beast share the same cold blood and the same patient hunger, instinct harnessed to instinct in service of a plan neither could recite. When Saurus Knights charge, the enemy line does not brace so much as flinch — and lines that flinch are already broken.
Order of battle
