After how hard the Dreaming Sickness hit him, Trahearne had forgotten all about their talk of duels, up until his invitation arrived in the mail. The thorniest part of this whole situation was that he still didn't see anything wrong with doing this, no matter how deeply his common sense ran when it came to most anything else. It was nothing to do with his personal sense of honor - they did have unfinished business, and though a couple of people had vouched for Devin's good behavior, Trahearne had yet to see any of that for himself.

And so, he arrived at the field only a few minutes shy of the appointed time, striding purposefully towards Devin until he stops about five feet away. Trahearne was in his usual leaves, but he did have a weapon of sorts on him, a rod meant for channeling magic hanging at his hip. "Devin. I received your challenge, and I am here to meet it. On this day, I stand here prepared to defend my honor against - well, you being yourself, I suppose."