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

The drums of war thundered ahead in symphony of smoke and flame, Gertrude's saturated bombardment quickly shellacking the mass of Talderian troops, softening their lines and cloaking the approach. Behind the screen, Gerard brought his longsword to bear, breathing deep and letting the black tint touch his lungs as Renar barked snapped off a quick plan of attack. Break their lines beneath the long weight of sword and poleaxe— the tip of the spear, crashing into them. He and Fionn close behind, the weighty haft to drive the point through, to mop up those displaced by their shields being smashed aside from further range.

The ghost of a smile flickered across his face. Familiar in excess, but all the smarter for it— Renar knew as well as anyone that this was the role he and Fionn [i]excelled[/i] in. Could hardly find an older hand at it south of Velt. [color=goldenrod]"Understood. I'm on you. Fionn, you have Fleuri."[/color]

Smoke to conceal their approach, blast to force the Talderians to dig in their heels. Stuck in and blinded, they'd be slow to react. 

He was calm. He knew this. He could see it, in his mind's eye. Even if his judgement erred...

Renar a loosed arrowhead. Gerard the quarrel, following as a matter of course. The coal-haired swordsman kicked down onto the tiles and let explosive force truly [i]open up[/i] from within, bulging calves, quads, and trunk working in concert— and much the same as his peer a step and a half ahead, the difference was night and day from the man he'd entered this realm as. He needed this speed in order to even hope of surviving his seasoning period underneath the wing of the mighty Hammer. If that goliath touched him once, he died. If he didn't find a higher gear, he died. If he let anything take his presence of mind, he died. Ride the flow. Don't let it swamp you. You have your mission. See it done.

These men were [i]not[/i] Cyrus.

As the first unlucky foe's comrade darted to the side, set to encircle Renar from the open side and attack his weaker flank, golden eyes flashed as Gerard emerged from the smoke, checking the blade against his own in a tight parry. Same armament as he'd seen previously— arming sword, shield, dagger on the hip. Half cape wasn't long enough to step on—

A burst of arcane fire filled the space between them, be it by chance or by Gertrude's design. Didn't matter, he had a second of cover, and was now used to a hell of a lot more force inches away. Tiny pops compared to the pressure front behind a founder's full swing. He'd thank her later.

He pressed in behind the point of his blade as the orange sunburst faded, lead leg breaking the center of the silver-clad man's stance. Heel met heel, but Gerard had forward momentum— whether blade met throat or pauldron met [i]lorica[/i] first, breaking his base like this would see the other fighter tumble to the Earth.

Unable to accost Renar and break their wedge. Easy pickings for those behind them. Good as done.

[@Psyker Landshark][@Octo][@The Otter][@Crimson Paladin]