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

[@VitaVitaAR][@The Otter]

His blade sank deep into flesh, and he knew it was nearly over. The Bandit King would be dead within moments, steel slipping between his ribs and into soft tissue beneath— and their objective here complete.

So saying, as he felt the sword be wrenched over by the twist of his foe's torso, massive blade swinging high into the air, Gerard neither ran, nor tried to twist himself out of the way. Such evasions were an afterthought. He had the man mortally wounded, but not quite dead. The fury in his eyes told him as much.

[color=goldenrod][i]Stop the enemy's attack by killing him. Finish the job.[/i][/color]

As the mountainous man's body reared up high to bring the massive blade down, Gerard's free hand returned to the pommel of his longsword and pressed it in as he surged upward in his wake. His footing wasn't great, but if he could sink it even another inch deeper, the wound would doubtlessly bleed a death rattle out of his foe. The timing was going to be tight here, no question...

The furious gaze from above locked upon its golden kin below, every bit as determined to see the man they beheld die, regardless of cost.

He was replaceable. Victory was not.

For an instant, it seemed this was where his duty would reap what it had sowed six years ago—

And then, flashing through the corner of his eye, a second sword buried itself into the man's frame. The Captain, darting between Fionn and Knight's Doom, and sending her sword deep into his right armpit, hitting the muscle, the vein, possibly the spine. With a thud and a plume of dust, the massive greatsword crashed to the earth as it fled the dying grip upon its handle.

The Lamplighters dimmed their candles.

As the weight fell into him in time with his Captain yanking her sword free, Gerard felt the pulsing in his head recede even as he fully forced his way up to his proper height with a grunt. He took a moment to glace at Jeremiah's eyes again—

"Damn you... Iron... Roses...!"

—And saw the light truly fade. 

He didn't offer a rebuttal to the curse, only a ragged exhalation as he shunted the massive body off. The burly corpse toppled to the floor at long last with a dull thud, the fresh blossoms of crimson spreading across his frame looking almost blackened in the firelight. He hadn't the wherewithal to offer a parting insult, no matter how much the man had earned it. It'd likely have fallen on deaf ears to begin with, he reasoned.

[color=goldenrod][i]Not like he doesn't know it's him who's damned.[/i][/color]

He blinked and breathed deep, savoring the sudden ache in his bones as so much of that ferocious current that propelled him so forcefully left his blood. His thoughts were returning now that the storm of anger had begun to part, and they propelled him elsewhere from Sir Fionn, who he caught a glimpse of racing back across the smoldering log. Back into the fray, hm? He'd be there before long, but first things first.

[color=goldenrod]"Captain,"[/color] he breathed, in a voice hoarser than he'd expected. [color=goldenrod]"Good kill. I owe you one."[/color]

He followed her gaze down to Sir Rickert's stricken form, still lying where both ends of the torso had fallen. Grisly end. From what Gerard had known of him, far too good and just a man to have earned a death so brutal. That said...

[color=goldenrod]"This is what war is, ma'am. No matter how hard any of us try, this is part of it."[/color]

They had chosen this life of their own volition, save her and the tradition that stuck her here as their leader. To pledge oneself as a warrior meant resolute acceptance of one's own death. He'd been pleasantly surprised by her ability to keep herself alive thus far... but he knew she'd also need to know how to bear the responsibility of the position without crumbling beneath it.

He did not chide, nor berate, nor coddle in saying this. It wasn't his place to do any of that, as her subordinate.

But as someone who'd seen hundreds of comrades die speaking to someone who'd seen her first...

[color=goldenrod]"Sir Rickert knew it too. We all know we might not see the next day. If we didn't accept that for ourselves, we wouldn't be here."[/color]