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

[@VitaVitaAR]

[color=goldenrod]"Been better,"[/color] He hedged, bluntly honest in the tone of his self-assessment. A thousand battles behind had bored it into him, well before the aspirations of knighthood, always pushing him into the next, had even a chance of being realized. In the ghost of a smirk that flitted across his features, there was a darkly cavalier edge to his words as he began to explain thoroughly. [color=goldenrod]"Been worse too. I was more worried about the nicks—"[/color]

Here, he presented her his cheek, showing the white square of gauze that was complaining to his face about moving his mouth so carelessly.

[color=goldenrod]"Felt woozy the whole ride back. Think for the arm I just wrenched an [i]oberhau[/i] too hard onto a shield, or yanked too recklessly in a grapple— tough to tell."[/color] The knight shrugged his shoulders. [color=goldenrod]"I was lost in the swordplay. Whomever the new Quartermaster is for the Boars, he's definitely kicked their training up a notch. I won't say they're suddenly amazing fighters, far from it, but they're better than I remembered... Makes their hiring all the more interesting."

[i]Mercenaries are an economy. Asking fees had to go up with the quality.[/i][/color]

The raised eyebrows of impressed hindsight faded, a contemplative furrow taking their place as he looked over the tiny Captain's choices in literature. In lieu of a concrete title or direction... these guesses were as good as his, all told. Direct understanding of the legend's text and body aside, they all sounded like they'd have the sort of background upon which the history was couched. Information like that could prove useful in hunting down the shards for certain.

... Fees. Hunt. Hold on.

[color=goldenrod]"I'll be honest, Captain, I'd be lucky to even be in the same boat as you."[/color] he chuffed with a touch of self-effacement, backpedalling through the shelves, squinting as he searched through the rows at head height. He'd just passed this one... [color=goldenrod]"I'm only here as a favor, or if I'm hunting down the old training manuals. I'm too simple for the literature; even your novels'd be wasted on me." [/color]

His eyes lit for a moment, and his free hand pulled a spine, then an old navy tome loose from the shelf. He looked over it momentarily, as if double-checking the cover for the words that had caught his attention, before placing it upon the stack Fanilly had already procured: [i]Lost Treasures of Thaln: For Legendary Collectors.[/i]

[color=goldenrod]"That said, we know they're in demand. Artifacts that powerful have to have all kinds of treasure hunter and adventurer hunting them down. 'Least I'd think so."[/color]

What else did they know about them? If he had to narrow it down from this ocean of books, what would he look for in search of "things that suit a Shard to hide in"?

He frowned openly now, throwing his mind at the problem in spite of his previous admissions of thoughtlessness. 

[color=goldenrod]"...Maybe a travel guide too..."[/color] he now murmured beneath his breath, cupping his chin. [color=goldenrod]"...Since they're corruptive influences like in the fort... Look for areas warned away from..."[/color]

He blinked, then looked back up, meeting the blue and gold blur that sharpened and clarified back into the form of his commanding officer.

[color=goldenrod]"Pardon, ma'am. Not presuming to overstep. Your investigation."[/color]