[center][h3][color=8eafdf]Sonya[/color] and [color=a187be]Amare Internellis[/color][/h3][/center] 
[sup][right]A collab post by [@Blubaron45] and [@SimpleD][/right][/sup]
[hr]
			The dispersing of the crowd via Dixon’s actions were appreciated by Sonya, never having been the most fond of large crowds. Listening to the man’s comments, it was clear there were some other feelings that drove his actions but as such intentions seemed directed at Odessa who seemed to take them in stride. As the two were left by themselves and faced each other once more, Sonya couldn’t help but feel herself relax as the other woman let a large grim spread across her face.

			[color=8eafdf]”You see yourself as my Guardian?”[/color] Sonya repeated a little surprised at the statement before giggling softly before replying [color=8eafdf]”I would have never been so forward to ask such a role from you, but given how well you’ve protected me so far, I would see no reason to refuse you such a station.”[/color] Nodding in agreement to Odessa’s next comment she replied [color=8eafdf]”That’s a wise decision, I saw there were quite a few wounded from the battle who were in need of aid, hopefully we can prevent anymore loss. But once that is done, we can catch up and celebrate properly."[/color] A part of Sonya did long for the chance to relax, today had already been quite taxing but she could not find it in her to condemn those who had fought by her to a grave just for her own comfort. There would be time to rest later... 
[right][sup][@Lyla][/sup][/right]

[center][h3]---A few Hours later---[/h3][/center]

			With the wounded gathered, the camp had now assembled a place to house the casualties. The seven deceased have yet to be placed anywhere properly though for the time being, they were rounded up and placed into a smaller tent on top of tables, covered with long white blankets. Another larger tent was made for the wounded that were in no grave condition while a smaller tent just adjacent was for those that were in such a condition. This whole portion of the camp was in all practicality a make-shift infirmary, built with whatever cloths and tents were gathered to house these soldiers who needed to be treated for. Thirty of the men were wounded, though most of them likely ready to fight at a moment's notice given some small medical aid. Five of which, however, were in severe and critical condition and were placed in a smaller, though more durable tent with whatever medical supplies were necessary to try and aid these soldiers. 

			Amare was quite impressed with the men that helped during this whole ordeal and so was Luke who seemed to be rather used to seeing combat, quite a few years ahead of Amare most probably. Luke seemed to take the initiative just after Dixon ordered for the wounded and deceased to be carried by wagon. Those helping with the wounded followed Luke's orders as he seemed to be the one who was giving orders at all, his younger brother still unaware of what happened until a moment later. He was a freshened boy, with little experience, one could say he was sheltered most of his life judging by his tear-jerking reaction to finding out about his father though Amare thought that could've had an affect on anyone. 

			Jowen was quite different from his brother, more handsome in comparison, though less of the "rough" and experienced type appearance that seemed to give off so predominately to Luke. It was his looks that gave him away; the clean shaven face and well groomed hair that complemented his innocent looks and not quite the menacing warrior of the men he followed around, though he had grown to be rather sharp-tongued and social according to while Amare had helped during the whole ordeal. Luke had the stoicism as his father, as well as his humor which made the young ashen haired mercenary feel a bit less morbid. 

			For the moment however, everything had been put in its proper place and just a few hours after the duel had ended which seemed to be at victory from what Amare heard as he and Luke carried Jasper back towards the camp those few moments ago. The excited yelling over the defeat of the enemy leader was something a man could never forget, or experience until he recognizes the cheering of men. It was a joyful scene, though such small celebrations of victory were only short lived in such a time just after a battle. For the horrors of war were not quite often in the fighting as they were often in the aftermath of bloodshed, often consisting of both bleak moments of despair and celebration for their victory. Yet there was still some work to be done for Luke it seemed, as well as any other knowledgeable man or woman with the experience in the art of healing. Amare helped in anyway he could, though when he exhausted his abilities in organizing the small area of the map where the wounded were carried. 

			Here and there Amare, along with some soldiers, attended a few errands as commanded by Luke: Making improvements to the small infirmary and tending the only meagerly wounded while leaving Luke as well as a masked, petite warrior named Sonya and one of the militia called Normad to tend the more seriously injured. Sonya had taken a few minutes to explain to some of the soldiers how to properly apply the healing salve before bestowing it to them, allowing them to treat the lesser wounds more efficiently. Unfortunately such an item would be of minimal use to the five that lay before her and the other two medics, though it could knit flesh and repair wounds, it could not return all the blood that had been lost or turn back the spreading of infections and nor could it regrow organs that had been hacked in the course of battle.

			It was the usual, typical, and minor injuries: the few broken bones, a few lacerations that could easily be disinfected and healed with a basic spell and/or herbal application, burns, flesh wounds, etc. The same however, could not be said for the five who were in grave condition, and as the hours passed in the dark confines of the tent, the team endured a long period of fortitude and uncertainty. One man had to be held down by five men given he was already very large while having his leg amputated to prevent him from dying of infection, the other had his eye gouged from his socket from a hammering blow of an Orc's sledgehammer. These two were the fortunate ones who were well on their way to survival though the same could not be said for the three in an even graver condition including Jasper, still unconscious from a hours before while Jowen stayed by his side the entire time. There was not much anyone in the entire army could do until the old man could either succumb to his injures or awaken once more. 

			It was a sad, gruesome sight though such was war. Amare in the time being, had spent the past hour finishing up the design of this part of the camp, making adjustments while pacing back and forth and thinking of ways of perfecting the tents he and the men had constructed. The man was rather obsessively compulsive about the whole ordeal, though when the part time engineer was satisfied with his work finally made his way towards the tent where Luke, Sonya and Normad were with the wounded that needed the most priority. Jowen, the youngest of Jasper's two children, went out to collect himself in the meanwhile after leaving his father's side to be taken care of by the medics. 

			[color=a187be]"The men and I have finished attending our tasks."[/color] Amare told the medics who were tending the seriously wounded, Jasper still unconscious and unattended since there was nothing else to be done. [color=a187be]"Have another job for me? I'd hate to go off drinking with the rest of the men and sulk in fine ale while still having a possible task to attend."[/color] 

			Normad, who was sitting on a crate closest to the entrance, gave Amare a nod of acknowledgement as he removed his smoking pipe. [color=888833]“Aye, you and your men have been a great help, having extra pairs of hands for the more mundane tasks is a blessing when dealing with a mess like this”[/color] the man replied, gesturing towards the blood-stains splattered across his clothing from the operations they had been forced to perform. Though his skills as a medic were limited, Normad had been a masterful taylor and with some guiding from Luke and Sonya he had been able to act as an effective surgeon for the operations. 

			[color=888833]“That said, I think at this point we’ve done all we be able to. As that’s not just me being eager to get away from having to weave together flesh mind you - I’d put up with this perversion of my craft if it could save another life, but putting flesh back together isn’t going to solve the problem with these three.”[/color] Normad continued before taking another smoke of his pipe, the stress of the situation revealing itself for a moment as his hands trembled before the smoking calmed the nerves once more. Letting out a puff of smoke he indicated towards one of the figures standing further in the tent [color=888833]“If she and the other can’t be thinking of any other way we can help these three then I don’t be thinking any of us will be coming up with a grand idea”[/color]
		
			Deeper inside the tent, Sonya stood by the side of one of the less fortunate soldiers, her face hidden by the mask but her body language told enough of a story on it’s own. The old man before her lay on the makeshift bed as his body struggled to breathe, the crimson stains across his stomach and the stitched scar that traversed his torso spoke of the origins of the injury. Though the gaping wound had been stitched closed, beneath the surface the Orc’s axe had struck deep, puncturing both of the man’s lungs. There made been efforts made to repair the internal damage but it was uncertain as to how successful it was, and even if by chance they had succeeded, fluids had seeped into the wounds and flooded the lungs causing problems that Sonya was simply not skilled enough with her magic to fix.

			Holding her knife clenched in both hands in-front of her, Sonya’s mind was filled with thoughts. Though she had seen her share of hardship in her times, it all paled in comparison to the reality of wars and the consequence that had to be borne. Above all though, her inability to help frustrated Sonya, she had spent years of her life practicing and refining her magic, creating a powerful craft that was hidden from the naked eye. And yet here and now, when the life of an individual hung in the balance, she found her powers lacking. [color=8eafdf][i]’Would you hold it against me that I could not save you, or would you say that it’s okay and bear no ill will?’[/i][/color] Sonya wondered to herself [color=8eafdf][i]’I recall reading that only beyond the beaten path, at the absolute end of one’s journey before death itself, that the truth of a person is revealed. I heard that in the battle, you took this blow to protect a comrade from his own death, perhaps knowing that it could easily end your own. I guess in the end that means you were a good person, and I’m sorry I can’t save you’ [/i][/color].

			Normad turned his attention back towards Amare [color=888855]”That girl’s been going around with that deflated look for a while now, don’t think she’s used to her magic powers failing. I guess if you are after one last task, maybe see if you can pry her away from this place. There naught be anything else here for her to do but have sullen thoughts clouding her mind. After that though, if you been needing someone to join you in a drink, I could do with trying to forget what I’ve done tonight.”[/color] He finished with a gaff laugh before returning his attention to the pipe. 

			Amare turned his head to see that Sonya had been looking down towards the somber sight of Jasper, bloody and carefully sewn together as if he were a doll. A gruesome sight to see what horrors of war could do to great men. Amare was no smooth-talker, the young mercenary typically used his good-looks to sway the attention of a female, yet Sonya was like none other. She was seemingly pure and kind-hearted, yet so dark and mysterious behind the white and crimson veil of that mask of hers. Nonetheless, there was still something to be said at the moment. Right now could not be such a time for mourning and if someone should add some input towards this situation, it had to have been the man who stood next to him during his last few moments unscathed and well. The young mercenary then approached the masked woman. 

			[color=a187be]"His name was Jasper."[/color] Amare spoke solemnly, his voice low and sounded genuine. [color=a187be]"The man who saved my life."[/color] There was a short silence as Luke, standing just a few feet away turned discretely to listen to the young ashen-haired mercenary. [color=a187be]"A man who lived as he died, a brave warrior, and if there were any man in the world I could choose to fight along side with - It would be with men like him. He sacrificed himself to save my pathetic ass and out of the multitudes of unfortunate thrown at him, out of confronting a sea of troubles in his many years as a brave and hardened man, he managed to live this long and keep his both his humility and charm."[/color] Amare looked into the dark holes of Sonya's mask with his bright red eyes. [color=a187be]"This was sign of a great man. And how many men could live long enough to tell of such tales of grandeur? Though with great tales, came great sacrifices, and there's no way any person can save all of the brave and courageous soldiers who put their lives on the line, this is the reality war."[/color] Amare reminded himself more than anything, though after a short pause, just before Amare could utter another word, Jowen had managed to come back and stood in the entry opening of the tent as Amare finished what he had to say. 

			[color=a187be]"Though keep in mind that in times of war, stoicism is a key virtue to have on the battlefield. You did very well out there and I commend you for that, but there's nothing else to be done. here was nothing either one of us could do."[/color] There truly wasn't though that was a painful to swallow, for all the soldiers in the tent had been helped and the medics had exhausted their abilities. Amare then followed Normad's advice. [color=a187be]"I don't speak on the behalf of his two sons, but I think it should be most appropriate to have them be left alone for them to say a few last words to their father."[/color] The mournful silence began to sink in once more though his tone of voice changed to reassurance. [color=a187be]"I wouldn't worry about guarding the place, we'll have two able-bodied guarding the wounded here. If there's anything needed of you, or anyone of us - I'm sure they will call upon us again."[/color] He said, referring to Jowen and Luke who both returned a graceful and serious nod to the young ashen haired mercenary. [color=a187be]"You're welcome to join us for a drink, or tend to your business though I think either way, it would be best to leave for a while."[/color] Normad nodded in the background. [color=a187be]"What do you say?"[/color]

			Sonya had waited until the ashen-haired mercenary had asked his question before finally turning to face him. The words he spoke held some truth to them, but it was a bitter truth that provided little comfort. Her face flickered towards the two sons who seemed eager to spend some time with their family, their claim to the company of this soldier far stronger than hers now that her medical talents had been exhausted. Stepping back from the vicinity she moved towards the front of the tent to give the sons their own space as she analysed Amare’s words. It sounded like a genuine offer with hints of concern and comfort woven through-out it, rather than a pretense just to speak with her.

			[color=8eafdf][b]“You are right, all that can be done here has been performed already, it is time to let the others do what they require.[/b][/color] Sonya finally replied as the three medics now stood at the entrance. [color=8eafdf][b]”I will have to pass on the offer for a drink, but if you have no objections I will still accompany you for awhile...there is business I do have to attend to but having company for now is likely for the best and if you are keen I would like to hear more about Jasper.[/b][/color] Sonya asked of Amare. It was a strange request but a part of her did wish to know more about this individual, perhaps allowing her to remember and honor his passing as a way of atoning for not being able to save his life

			[color=888855]”I doubt either of us be having an objection, though if you do change your mind about your drink you be more than welcome to try some. I think I’ll be cracking open a drink I had been saving for awhile, meant to be rare and strong stuff, should help drink away the worst parts of the day”[/color] Normad replied as he looked between Sonya and Amare, clearly keen to have some company to drink with as well.

			Amare turn to say his goodbyes to the two sons who then stood by their father's side, before abruptly leaving the tent. Outside, the air was fresh and cooled as the night crept in, the illuminated fires projecting an even more brightly colored scene of the campsite. It had become vivid and lively, a just way to start such a party and as the cool fresh air kissed Amare's soft skin, so did the rhythmic folk music that was playing just a tents ahead where another tent had become turned into a make-shift bar. After a few moments, Sonya and Normad had followed thereafter and succumbed to the same feeling of at ease. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the small party began to make their way away from the small, make-shift infirmary and leaving to tend the celebrations where the same Stefano, who had essentially started the duel a few hours earlier in order to save the army from more bloodshed, please a crowd of tired warriors. Though this time, the young mercenary had finally gotten a good look out of the man. He wore flamboyant noble cloths colored purple and green and a gaudy artist's beret that made Amare thought he was more of a jester than a nobleman given his attitude had it not been for the fine silks he wore. 

			[color=a187be]"Well, this ought to be fun, eh?"[/color] Said Amare as they approached the festivities to which Normad nodded in agreement. 

			[color=888855]"Never would have picked this group to know how to fight or know the best way to have a good time. Guess that be the difference a few good leaders can make[/color] he replied as he indicated towards Stefano, the man's jubilant attitude having an almost infectious nature as it spread throughout the weary militia. As Sonya's head shifted from side to side, taking in the sights of the celebration she also chimed in. 

			[color=8eafdf][b]"That is true, though it was shocking at the time, Silas replacing our previous captain was no doubt for the best though I do wonder if there was more to his actions than simply preventing our previous captain from getting us all killed"[/b][/color]. It was true that their interactions had been limited so far, but Silas struck Sonya as a rather calculating individual who planned many moves in advance. There was something about his actions that indicated a greater purpose though as of yet she could not fathom what it could be. 

			Normad gave the masked girl a glance before chuckling. [color=888855]"Ah you be reading to much into it girl, he just strikes me as a man who knows how to lead and can tell when someone can't. Given the way he dueled that Orc putting himself at risk, I doubt he'd be having any nefarious plans"[/color]. Sonya considered correcting the older man for a moment before dismissing the notion and simply nodding in agreement. She didn't suspect Silas of anything nefarious but rather having some kind of grand plan. 

			[color=8eafdf][i]'I guess hes right though, there's no need to be trying to analyse everything, this is meant to be a celebration after all[/i][/color] Sonya mused to herself before pushing those thoughts aside for the moment and returning her attention back to her current companions, letting herself relax as she soaked up the senses of the celebration. 

			[color=a187be]"Interesting lot. I suppose the great of men are often the most intriguing."[/color] Amare added as they approached the party, looking at a man dressed in only a pair of pants who had just passed him. He was holding a wooden jar of golden ale and from what Amare could tell was walking in the direction from which such beverages were being handed. [color=a187be]"Excuse me."[/color] Amare paced towards the bar, built together by just barrels of ale that had made for a bar stand. A server stood behind it all. He was tall, fat, and bearded, smiling through his big yellow teeth at the festivities as he handed out the cups of ale. 

			[color=a187be]"Hey, where can a man drown his thoughts anyway? The music is just fine, and I'm now in the mood."[/color] The ashen haired mercenary asked. 

			[color=82ca9d]"Weeelll"[/color], said the bartender, his voice crisp and raspy before opening his mouth and letting out a loud and echoing burp. [color=82ca9d]"Look no furtha..."[/color] He sighed, trying to get a hold of his breath, the smell of ale on his breath was all the more predominant. [color=82ca9d]"then hera!"[/color] The bartender laid before him five ups of ale and set it on the counter, two of which Amare took while grabbing an empty one and filling it with water as he handed it over to Sonya the moment he came back with the drinks. 

			[color=a187be]"To a good battle."[/color] Amare toasted, raising his wooded mug of ale to his new drinking companions. Sonya offered a soft thanks as she took the mug of water, joining Amare in his toast.

			[color=8eafdf][b]"To our friends who saw us through the battle"[/b][/color] she replied, recalling both those who had fallen and those who still remained. Normad quickly grabbed the remaining mug of ale and eagerly raised the drink as he joined in the toast. 

			[color=888855]"And to damn good ale"[/color] letting out a chuckle before just as quickly raising the drink to his lips and taking a long swig of ale. Sonya gave the veteran a curious glance before letting out a soft chuckle, the jolly atmosphere seeping through the group as the festivities of the night wore on.