The battle had since been over...
...yet as he stared at the swords stabbed into the ground in front of him, their owners having placed them there in their final fit of rage, Lyde could not help but choke back the tears that now tore at him from the inside; his country had won the war, but to him it felt nothing like so.
His family, dead. His comrades, destroyed. His people... torn apart. Who would have known that such a decimation was to occur on this day; nay, who COULD have known? That did not matter anymore, however, for now all that continued to exist were but the memories of his land that once had been. He had no home to call his own any longer.
He was born a fighter, raised a valient swordsman.
Now, he lives a mercenary.