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

[color=goldenrod]"...Nah."[/color] Gerard breathed after a moment's consideration, the weight of the maul, and all its' bloody history, a feather in his hands. Bringing it down unto its brutish wielder had made for smaller satisfaction than he'd bargained, honestly— but he'd little time to ponder the meaning of that void. It would forestall their victory, if his mind was stuck on it— better to simply say "this must be moving on" and recenter his focus on the objective. [color=goldenrod]"Nah, he's fine. Called for a duel and got it. I've got enough trouble with the courtesies I [i]haven't[/i] learned,"[/color]

A smirk played across his face, toothy and houndish within the haggard breath he was leashing with time and measure. He rose to his full height once more, hoisting the hammer onto his shoulder with a wrench of the left arm, right hand closing its grip again around his trusted blade.

[color=goldenrod]"Best I mind the ones I've known for a while already."[/color]

Thunder cracked from afar, as a pillar of cerulean washed over the moonlit clearing. It cast the pair of knights in hues of the arcane, blue-white caught within purple and gold. Their spellcaster on loan, apparently, had gotten sick of beating around the bush— and now had reason to just throw around raw power. He'd stay away for a while.

As Steffen hoisted his spear to ready and made to set off, Gerard did much the similar, at decidedly different course. [color=goldenrod]"We've driven the wedge pretty far out— don't wanna splinter it any more than we've got to. You go get him, I'll get ahold of Serenity and Nico."[/color]

As they drew past eachother, objectives decided, a small, muttered thanks crept beneath the din.

[color=goldenrod]"I won't make a liar of you."[/color]

And then the Ingvarr Knight was off, another mighty charge smashing through the breaking ranks of Boars as he surged forth to Lein's perch.

Gerard's was a shorter sprint, arriving in time with Sergio's war pick caving in the temple of the knife-wielder that had shown up in tandem with his old adversary— evidently by far the trickier of the two, though that was no tall bar to clear. The younger Knight's brow knotted as he took stock of his fellows' posture— Sergio's not quite steady, hitching as it moved. Serenity, though rushing to rejoin, swaying, albeit slightly, where there was normally picturesque poise.

He was a greenhorn sword of the nation, but battlefield veteran enough. He could recognize a broken arm, a ruptured inner ear.

Nico, further up the field but in the middle distance between, still hale. He was no healer, but he was a water mage— for what little Gerard knew of magic as a whole, he knew water to be protective and soothing, much like the Goddess claiming it as domain. He glanced to the blonde swordsman for a moment, flicking his gaze back to Serenity before turning his attention to Sergio.

[color=goldenrod]"Good kill. I've got you covered."[/color]

Sword and hammer in hand, he moved to impose himself onto the Knight of the Harvest Moon's flank. The Boars weren't finished, they were cornered— this would be when they pounced on any opening they could find.