[center][h3][color=a187be]Amare Internellis[/color][/h3][/center] [hr] On the eve of that battle, Amare had left himself in solitude once more for the imminent morning that was surly to come. Amare was generally a man of solitude, finding comfort in the simplicity, though tomorrow would be anything but. This would be a battle that would most certainly determine his fate, as he and his fellow brothers and sisters in-arms would stand in defiance against the Orc threat plaguing the countryside, threatening extinction to mankind. This would be a small battle, not worthy of being written into history as fate is so often written into stone, though Amare knew that this would be one of many he would encounter being an employee under the Imperial Army. Walking past Jehan's camp, Amare glanced at the tall nobleman, an eager look in his eye. It was almost as if the two of them had communicated in that brief instant. [i]On the morrow[/i], he thought to himself, almost as if Jehan were listening to his thoughts [i]I will see you in the battlefield, Lord Jehan.[/i] Amare nodded his head. Jehan had the look of his family descendants before him, he realized. Though he doubted Jehan could recognize Amare, for they had never truly met despite being hired by his father. Amare walked amiably back to camp, and later fell asleep beside the warmth of a campfire, trying to forget what what anxiety tomorrow would bring. [hr] Once the morning had dawned, Amare had already been awake about an hour before the sun would rise the morning of the battle. Practicing, as he usually did before he knew imminent bloodshed would commence. Amare was not new to combat, though nonetheless, he reassured himself this would be like the few battles he's been in under the guild of fellow mercenaries. He had been in battles of larger scale, though only under feuding lords who ordered men to fight one another as if they were pieces on a chessboard. A wasteful act to kill off men who would benefit from a war such as this one, though as long as there were coins to be offered, there were plenty of men who were more than willing to offer themselves for such a position. As the bleeding sun arose from the dead horizon beyond the sands miles ahead of him, the small force would spend the majority of their morning preparing themselves for the battle that was soon to follow just a few hours later. A mediocre speech from a 'Commander' was more than enough for Amare to think twice before being employed by such an army, though he was assured the moment Dixon offered a counterargument of own, by offering a powerful left hook to the man's jaw that sent the spoiled nobleman down on his butt. Amare found that rather amusing - especially since the speech was given to, what it appeared to be, a more experienced soldier. Those born into the privilege of a privileged life knew little what it was to endure hardship. Like the men who would waste others to die like chess pieces on the chessboard, or the man who ordered upon a beheading, are often the men who could easily forget what true death is and thus knew very little of the realities of battle. All the men soon after went to their positions as ordered, Amare was assigned to the task of holding the left flank with, what he could not guess to ever be beside him in battle, Jehan de Challon himself. There was also a magical practitioner named 'Sonya' who wore the Opal Fox Mask and a dagger, though she had exchanged with an older gentleman, who appeared to be a much older veteran of battle. His name was Jasper, who Amare already had been acquainted with the moment he had been assigned to this army a little more than a fortnight past. A confident, yet humble, old man almost in his fifties, who often enjoyed trash-talk and would be willing to do so in at a moment's notice in order to vex a few men for battle. Jasper was quite possibly one of the only soldiers who Amare had dared to say was his friend and had gotten amiably rival with him since the beginning of his arrival at the camp. [color=0054a6]"Are you ready for this battle, boy?"[/color] Jasper said, to which replied with a subtle Amare nod. [color=0054a6]"Let's not hope for that pretty boy, silvery hair to be mangled during the course of this battle. I hope you brought a comb."[/color] [color=a187be]"Oh, I can take care of myself."[/color] Amare assured Jasper. [color=a187be]"The question is: are you strong enough to keep that sword over your belt during the course of battle, or have you become too old and feeble to even hold your own weight"[/color] Amare exchanged, he did not like being looked down on, even if it were taken as a joke. Nonetheless, Amare played his game. [color=0054a6]"More than you'll eva' be my boy."[/color] Jasper chuckled. [color=0054a6]"For every swing of that sword you will make, I would have killed two shit-skinned Orcs already."[/color] [color=a187be]"Care to make a wager, old man?"[/color] Amare raised an eyebrow. [color=a187be]"That [i]is[/i] assuming you have the shillings left that you have not already drank away."[/color] Amare almost knew Jasper almost like an old friend, the old man had that affect on many. [color=0054a6]"More than you'll ever have, boy."[/color] Jasper replied, teasingly once more. [color=0054a6]"I have shillings, plenty might I add."[/color] The old man grinned. He had a warmth tone to him, and Amare could easily tell that his old man had been a veteran of the many years of conflict that could either drive a man either into madness or humility, for he had known many in his short life as a mercenary - Though insane this man was not. Amare had the utmost confidence in him, and was therefore glad to have him by his side. [color=0054a6]"Let's just see if you are as good as a sword as you are pretty. If you could out-best me, I'll give ya' two shillings per ear."[/color] [color=a187be]"Per ear?"[/color] [color=0054a6]"Per [i]new[/i] ear, and don't you cheat me, boy!"[/color] [color=a187be]"Done."[/color] Amare agreed, dropping his decorated wooden shield to shake the hands of this man. His grip was stronger than he thought, Amare hoped that Jasper was as agile and had the stamina to match his strength in order to aid him in surviving this battle, though not enough to best him. [color=a187be] "My name is Amare, if you hadn't already known that."[/color] [color=0054a6]"What a pretty little name for pretty little silvery haired maiden."[/color] Amare shook his head and then laughed along with the old man. [color=0054a6]"Prepare to make yourself a man of debit."[/color] He added, lightheartedly. [color=0054a6]"Ready?"[/color] Asked Jehan, having just arrived at his side after ordering his own men to their positions. Amare took a while to examine his armor, full plated and was shinned the day before the battle, its light shinning bright beneath the rising sun. There was no doubt that he would stick out like a sore thumb, though Amare could easily see this as a distraction for the Orcs to be occupied by. While their focus was aimed at this knight, Amare could slip in a few stabs, catching them by surprise. Orcs were quite stupid, or at least he hoped they were. [color=0054a6]"I would not worry about pretty-boy, lad, he 'can take care of himself'"[/color]. Jasper then gesticulated quite amusingly to were Amare grinned once more, hoping to refute that claim. Though in all honesty, he felt it had brought more light to the morbidness that was soon to follow in battle, as petty as his remarks seemed. It was remarks like those that made Amare grow to enjoy the old man's company these past two weeks. [color=0054a6]"Need not worry, my young sirs. You lads will be under my protection. If anything were to happen to either one of yew I swear to ya, I would become very chocked up. Honestly, there could be tears!"[/color] Jasper snickered to himself. [color=a187be]"Let's not hope for it to come to that."[/color] Amare added, grinning.