[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]
[@Krayzikk]

[color=goldenrod]"With respect, Sir Nicomede, ours is a trade of inches and instants."[/color] came the inevitable riposte, as Gerard turned to face the other man fully. Something about that grin told him that he'd been, whether he'd meant to hide or otherwise, found out in his probing. That the deeper answer he sought was locked yet away, even if the fencer deigned to elucidate upon that which was said. Hm. Once again, it seemed proof that he had not the foresight to play such games with words...

[color=goldenrod]"Surely you know as well as I that action and reaction are a world removed from contemplation."[/color]

Best keep to what he knew until he did.

It was initiative on the field that had kept him alive thus far. Each time he had ripped his life free from the battles he'd thrown it into, it had been off the back of his courage, tenacity, and split-second action. If he had stopped to contemplate Elva Fraus, her crimson lightning would have cooked him. If that man in the Bandit camp were a second sharper than he, his name would be listed alongside Rickart as a casualty, crossbow bolt through the eye. Had he not stood firm in the face of blinding heat and light, he'd have never even nicked Jeremiah. Readiness came from instincts, refined to a hair trigger. Perhaps Nicomede was the type of man to call that a form of "thinking"... But Gerard had his doubts.

His crossguard continued to float near his brow.

[color=goldenrod]"By all means. If I may learn."[/color]