Nick in armor was one a sight to behold. That colossal stature clad in the thickest of chainmail, the bulkiest of iron… I've seen lifelike statue-replicas of those holy knights before, but Nick with his sword and shield has placed those fancy, expensive museum exhibits to utter shame.
Fucker's on a crusade for love.
I was reassured by a staff member, when asked, that the weapons we were to be using to beat each other to mushy pulps were but harmless plastic props given a little polish to sheen and gleam like the real thing.
But when it came to Nick, entering the ring packing those bulging forearms of his tucked underneath all that layer of metal? That freakish grip strength of a gorilla strangling the handle of the blade as tight as it would let… I felt like the difference wouldn't have mattered anyway if he swung it with full intent.
A prop sword or a real sword - either way, your head's getting cleaved off with just a single stroke.