Let's d-d-d-d-d-duel!

The skinny little weasel throws you a sword and draws his own. He approaches with an expert fencer's posture.
"Wow," he says, "that hardly ever works!"
You're starting to think duelling a guy who treats duels to the death as a hobby might have been a bad idea.
You put up a surprisingly good fight, all things considered, but the Viscount has the home field advantage on top of his formidable swordwork. He takes first blood, and second blood, and last blood too. You die!