Watching Snow repeatedly draw his sword, Basch would admit it was indeed pitiful to begin with but was gradually improving. "'Tis years of practice, My Lord. Quite a many few years." He was, after all, almost forty and going well for someone in the military. Not many made it to that age.

"Enough of your draw. We shall practice parrying and blocking." It was pretty simple to engage in swordplay. Whether or not you survived was a different matter. So, reaching into his pocket, he drew out two sword caps, placing one on the end of his own and reaching out to cap Snow's. "'Twould be a dire shame should I return you to Her Majesty with a wound I inflicted myself."