[center][h3][color=0054a6]Jehan de Challon[/color][/h3][/center]
[hr]

Jehan's breath was heavy, his body tired, his mind troubled. His armour was a bloody and dirty mess and his visor remained open, giving him the ability to breath full breaths of air, filled with the stench of battle. He readied himself for the final waves, but no more waves came, no all out charge that would finish them once and for all. In truth, it was unexpected but he was thankful for it. Perhaps there was a chance to leave this hellish battlefield alive. He heard shouting down the line, from both sides of the battlefield. He couldn't make out the words but it quickly became apparent that it was going to end with a duel. Jehan was unsure of what he felt about that. On the one hand it was possible, and if what people said about orcs was true; it might even be worth the risk. Yet, on the other hand, it could be a trick to break apart their battleline. Or when the duel was finished, no matter the end result they could be charged, run over, killed. 


As the militia finished the ring, Vincent and Adrian among them, Jehan moved back, to just behind where the line of battle had been. It was not difficult to find Henri's body. With a heavy sigh he went down to a knee next to Henri's body. The wound was mostly hidden by the aventail that the orc's brute strength had broken through. Though from what he could see, it seemed deep wound; deadly in fact. Johannes had tried to stop the bleeding but, as the corpse was proof of, failed. That such a young man could contain so much blood, and lose it all so quickly. Not only bled dry of life, but his future, ability, personality. In death, Henri's face looked calm, content, untroubled. Only the patches of drying blood on his face told another story if one could only see the face. His eyes also, told a story of death. They were open, glassy and empty were they had once contained life and energy. Jehan reached out and closed Henri's eyes with a gauntleted hand. He collected Henri's sword and returned it to the young man's scabbard, then stood, knowing he should probably watch the duel.