Carol
Levi Cortez 
Northwind

Birds flew around the field, attracted by the smell of dying men. Levi wiped his blade on the shirt of the man he had just killed, and wiped his brow. The sweat was beginning to sting his eyes, but he couldn't stay still for long. It was barely a moment before he had to intercept another blade, barely reacting in time. Time was no longer on his side. They had to win, and fast. 

—

Roryk roared in anger as Tharn scored another hit. He was relentless, ever strike held purpose. Roryk was barely holding on at this point, but now it was either fight and die, or run. Roryk knew he couldn't run, and even if he did, he wouldn't make it far. He looked down at Tharn and scowled before remembering the young man who had flipped him the first and only time they had fought. The young man who had taught him how to fight in the first place

"*Strength isn't everything Roryk.*"

Roryk frowned, studying Tharn as he lunged for another attack. As he got close, Roryk used the last of his strength to bat the blade aside and score a strike of his own. He opened a long gash running across Tharn's chest, before Tharn quickly reacted with his own counter attack.
Ronald
Cyprien de Lysse
Keep Sempiternal, Grey Hills

Once Fleur closed the door, Cyprien remained alone with his toughts.
He still couldn't stand the sound of the pendulum.

"Julien," He ordered again. "Summon my son."

This time there was no confusion. Anytime Cyprien said 'his son' he meant his heir Bastien. Whenever he wanted to specifically call Jean he did it by name, even if he didn't adress him by name later on.

"Will do, lord," Answered the valet. And turning on his heels, left Cyprien alone once more.
Katherine
Bastien de Lysse
Keep Sempiternal Stables, Grey Hills

Bastien used the currycomb to make his horse's coat shine. Though he had arrived back at The Keep an hour ago, he had stayed in the stable with Bear the entire time. He didn't know how to approach any of his family members. Sometimes he felt more comfortable with his horse than he did with the rest of his family.

"Don't give me that look," He muttered under his breath. Bear, his black stallion, gave him a rather unimpressed gaze as if reading his rider's thoughts. How did a horse manage to look so judgmental?

Bastien could see his reflection in Bear's dark, orb-like eyes. His snow-colored, almost iridescent hair was going every which way from an entire day of riding. Dark blue-violet eyes glared back at him. His black vest and riding pants were dirty, and a scowl was prevalent on his lips. Bastien thought that he looked, in short, irritated and disheveled.

His signature look, to be sure. The disheveled part was more recent addition from the past few weeks while he was away. Irritation had always been his go-to expression.

Sighing deeply, Bastien put aside the currycomb to rub Bear's neck with his hand. The horse closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle scratches as a gust of cold wind swirled his long black mane in the air. 

A servant walked into the stables, making both Bear and Bastien glance over.

"Lord de Lysse requests your presence at once, my lord," The servant said with a bow.

*'At once?'* Bastien thought with a frown as his hand lowered from Bear's neck. "Very well," He said as he left his horse, walking over to look down at the man before him. Bastien's lean body towered over the servant as he stared down at him. "I'll go now."

"R-right," The servant stuttered as he endured Bastien's icy look for a few more moments before retreating in another direction.

When the servant was out of sight, Bastien let out a sigh. Pushing back his thick hair with a hand as he gazed up at the bruised-colored sky, he went in the direction of where his father would be waiting.
Frankie
Tharn Skorn
Burgh

Tharn let out a blood-curdling roar as Roryk's blade slid across his chest. If Roryk was going to strike, he should have killed him; now he was going to pay. 

Like a wounded bear, Roryk came forward with even more fury, seeking out the blood he shed tenfold. Nothing seemed to stop him after that wound. He kept coming, relentlessly attacking Roryk over and over again, casting each of Roryk's blows aside as if they were no more threat than a fly. Anybody that tried to stop Tharn and rescue Roryk, well... Several men fell while attempting to do so. 

He picked up the pace, now advancing rapidly, leaving Roryk scrambling and stumbling backwards. Tharn's lips curled into a sneer, excitement and adrenaline coursing through his veins. So close to the kill!

As Roryk scrambled backwards, Tharn used the momentum against him, changing up the rhythm by suddenly sweeping his left leg beneath Roryk's legs and hooking them behind. That, combined with Roryk's already retreating motion, sent Roryk tumbling downward, and Tharn wasted no time, landing brutal left-hook to Roryk's face. 

Dazed and disoriented, Roryk now posed little threat, and Tharn couldn't help but gloat one last time.

"Where's your friend Levi now?" He mocked. "He doesn't have your back. He has left you here to die like a dog." 

With that, he brought his blade down, thrusting it through Roryk's chest. A choked, gurgling cry came from dying man, his body convulsing, as if his soul were fighting to stay on just a little longer. When the twitching finally stopped, Tharn placed his foot on Roryk's chest and removed the blade.

"I had hoped you'd prove to be more of a challenge," Tharn said with a disappointed sigh, then turned and was once more enveloped in the thick of battle. Now he sought out his true enemy: John.
Carol
Roryk Strongham 
Northwind

*Cold.*

That's all he could feel as the sharp sword pierced his chest, piercing his lung and scraping against his ribs. He could feel himself dying, but he had one last thing to say, but he couldn't force himself to open his mouth. He was drowning, his blood filling his lungs with every second . 

*He's.. Right there.* Roryk thought, meeting Levi's eyes as blood bubbled out of his mouth. He coughed, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. He felt the sword leave his body as his final thoughts floated through his mind. 

*I failed you. You were my best friend, and I failed you.*

Roryk Strongham shuddered once more, and never moved again.

Levi Cortez
Northwind

*No.*

*No.*

*No.* 

"NO!" Levi yelled, watching helplessly as Roryk fell. He could feel the world spinning quickly as he met eyes with the only man who had ever truly understood Levi. He watched his best friend die, as helpless as the day Aleqar had died. 

*I failed him too.*

The memories of Roryk flashed through his mind as he fought the man who got in his way. All he could see was Roryk's smile as he stared at Roryk's lifeless body. The man who had taken Levi and pulled him out of the dark pit of insanity that had driven his life for years. The kind soul that always had everyone else's best interests at heart now lay dying at Tharn's feet, but no one cared. Roryk would be another body in the stupid war. 

"No!" Levi yelled. He couldn't let that happen. Everyone would remember Roryk as the hero he was! Levi gained the upper hand, overcoming the man with one quick thrust. 

Levi let loose a blood curdling cry as he withdrew his blade from the wolfman, every fiber of his being filling with hate. 

*DIE!*

He yelled as he ran towards Tharn, pure adrenaline and instinct guiding his movements. His vision darkened as he ran, focusing on one point and not leaving. He couldn't even feel his legs, but he pushed forward, before drawing his sword and striking at Tharn with everything he had within him. 

"DAMN YOU!" He screamed as he attacked, swinging with all of the force he could muster within him.