[Nero is not a silent audience on the sidelines; he whoops when Geralt gets his first hit in, as the horse screams. Good -- those geryon things are absolute bastards. Besides, watching Geralt's fun. He's quick, brutal, and doesn't take risks. He might not know what a geryon can do, but he's not fucking around to find out, either.
Fast. Not fast enough, though.
Nero gives a laugh when the cavalier's sword sails right into the Witcher, tossing him across the arena like a wad of used tissue.
Straight towards --
Nero sighs right before Geralt's body slams into him, tumbling him backwards off his perch; Shadow roars and catches herself with a snarl, curling back up as if she'd never been touched. Nero hits the ground and keeps rolling, rolling, until he rolls straight back to his feet, brushing dust off of himself. He picks Red Queen back up from where she's fallen, securing her right against his back again. The geryon gives a triumphant snort, the cavalier turning the horse around to face Geralt down again, face unmoving. Dark clouds begin to swirl above the arena, turning from light grey to dark shadows.
Thunder rolls.]
Too much for those old bones, huh? [He offers Geralt a hand up, if he wants it, but the grin on his face is just a plain shit-eating one.] Don't tell me one demon's too much for you.
[Well, technically two. Horse and rider are separate.]
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Fast. Not fast enough, though.
Nero gives a laugh when the cavalier's sword sails right into the Witcher, tossing him across the arena like a wad of used tissue.
Straight towards --
Nero sighs right before Geralt's body slams into him, tumbling him backwards off his perch; Shadow roars and catches herself with a snarl, curling back up as if she'd never been touched. Nero hits the ground and keeps rolling, rolling, until he rolls straight back to his feet, brushing dust off of himself. He picks Red Queen back up from where she's fallen, securing her right against his back again. The geryon gives a triumphant snort, the cavalier turning the horse around to face Geralt down again, face unmoving. Dark clouds begin to swirl above the arena, turning from light grey to dark shadows.
Thunder rolls.]
Too much for those old bones, huh? [He offers Geralt a hand up, if he wants it, but the grin on his face is just a plain shit-eating one.] Don't tell me one demon's too much for you.
[Well, technically two. Horse and rider are separate.]