Three groups - one person

It was his first time facing such a heavy army, and his muscles ached with a bone-deep weariness he had never experienced before.

Across the battlefield, Wymar and his men were finishing their grim task. They were still burning the bodies; one of them came and took the body that was before Jolthar.

Finding himself unable to stand any longer, Jolthar sat again near the fountain, its once-clear waters now tinted pink with blood. His drake settled beside him, its scales still warm from the heat of battle, offering silent companionship.

He held his sword, its tip pointing towards the ground, as he leaned against it for support.

From his position, he watched the men as they worked to gather those giant purple men in the square, their bodies looking even more massive in death than they had in life.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention as Roblan approached and sat beside him.