Geralt, as expected, thoroughly trounced the two thugs who'd come at him. Jaskier hadn't watched but there was a whole plethora of terrifying sounds as Geralt snapped a bone or two, as he made a grown man shriek like a little girl, as he was flung to the ground--then another shriek and thud. Really it was grand little tune, very catchy. Jaskier, in the twenty odd seconds that required, had been faced with a then panicky gentleman who was more than eager to not be stabbed.
He'd moved in, ready to rearrange the bard's face, when Geralt had started thrashing people. Fortunately, he only got one off kilter punch off before he realized his erstwhile friends were not on the winning side. His meaty fist put a rather impressive series of wrinkles into the front of Jaskier's doublet, but he let go as soon as Geralt swung around. Indeed, the moment the Witcher had eyes on him, the fellow was more than happy to back up and let them handle the horse themselves.
"That's right! Get out of here!" Jaskier cried after the man as he bolted, terrified, from the square. Jaskier's glower was a bit cocksure--it was the adrenaline he was sure--but he felt it was earned. It wasn't every day someone took a punch to the face without so much as stumbling. His jaw barely hurt at all. (He felt rather rough and tumble, considering he hadn't done anything at all.)
The horse, in the interim, had stuck its head beneath the fall of water at the center of the fountain and was luxuriating in it. When all the kerfuffle had ended, it pulled its head out and shook it, either oblivious or uncaring of the violent scuffle that had happened in its immediate vicinity.
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He'd moved in, ready to rearrange the bard's face, when Geralt had started thrashing people. Fortunately, he only got one off kilter punch off before he realized his erstwhile friends were not on the winning side. His meaty fist put a rather impressive series of wrinkles into the front of Jaskier's doublet, but he let go as soon as Geralt swung around. Indeed, the moment the Witcher had eyes on him, the fellow was more than happy to back up and let them handle the horse themselves.
"That's right! Get out of here!" Jaskier cried after the man as he bolted, terrified, from the square. Jaskier's glower was a bit cocksure--it was the adrenaline he was sure--but he felt it was earned. It wasn't every day someone took a punch to the face without so much as stumbling. His jaw barely hurt at all. (He felt rather rough and tumble, considering he hadn't done anything at all.)
The horse, in the interim, had stuck its head beneath the fall of water at the center of the fountain and was luxuriating in it. When all the kerfuffle had ended, it pulled its head out and shook it, either oblivious or uncaring of the violent scuffle that had happened in its immediate vicinity.