Another noble, and a handful of commoners. Still, Lydalia took it in stride. Wiegraf and Milleuda were common folk, and both had rose a respectful amount in the war. If commoners could gain the respect of nobles with their skills in battle, than surely a noble from a disgraced family could rise in status as well.<br/><br/>The medic, Piero, suggested looking at her own wound, a remark that drew her from her reflecting. As adrenaline from the battle coursed through her veins, she had forgotten about her injury, finding she was suddenly aware of the warm blood soaking into her battledress.<br/><br/>“Naught but a scratch,” she argued half heartedly, before offering her arm up for inspection. She watched the other squire, the commoner who referred to himself as a scoundrel, noting the fresh supplies he took off the dead. Her gut reaction was disgust, but after a brief moment’s consideration, she could see the reasoning in it. The dead certainly didn’t need it, and Ordallian’s did have good iron…<br/><br/>“It is most unfornate about the… moogle,” she addressed the buxom maid, hesitating to say the word. It felt like a fairy tale, the sort that older kids were admonished for continuing to believe in. Still, what she had seen could not be argued with. “I can’t imagine the Ordallian dogs have any good intentions towards it.”