barrett1987
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2014
- Messages
- 559
Hey all,
This fight isn't reading right and I can't work out why. It's from a PoV I don't use again and that might be why. Eitherway, can I get some fresh eyes to give it the once over please?
The countdown ends at 60 and there will be explosions
=========================
Caleb’s grin widened. As with most things, a little planning saved a lot of leg work. When his toughs had run into the crowd, he’d gone the other way. There was after all, only one way out of the Slave Pens.
Watching the man approach, Caleb’s temper tightened. This fool had challenged his authority in front of customers. Fear was everything in a place like this. If your customers were the meanest criminals in the city then the only way they would respect the rules was if the ruler was meaner. He stepped forward. “Well, well, look whose come crawling back. Have you come to say sorry?”
“Fifteen…”
He frowned. “Fifteen what?”
“You and your boys need to get out of my way.” The man smiled. “I’m in a hurry.”
“Oh look, we’ve got ourselves a real character here!” A few toughs laughed but not as many as he’d hoped. That was fine. They just needed reminding why he was a boss. He’d make this lesson painful. He clenched his fists. Very painful. “Before I end your life, what’s your name? I wouldn’t want your wife and kids to wonder how their father died.”
“You can call me Stranger.”
Caleb’s throat tightened, a joke drying on his tongue and he fought the urge to step back. Names had power - that one more than most. “I was going to make this quick but if we’ve got a bonafide hero amongst us, it would be rude not to put on a show. Someone toss him a weapon.”
“I’m no hero,” Stranger muttered as he caught a club tossed by a nearby tough.
“Come now, don’t be modest. You’ve saved a princess! We’ve all heard of your exploits. I mean-”
Stranger stretched his arms above his head and yawned.
The crowd laughed and Caleb scowled. Are they laughing at me? He drew his rapier and began to circle, each foot placed with care, - toe then heel - legs never crossing. “Fine, have it your way.”
Stranger mirrored him, technique flawless. “Thirty…”
“Enough with the numbers!” Caleb leapt forward and slashed at his opponent’s face.
Stranger swayed away, the blade missing by inches.
Springing back, Caleb smiled a flash of teeth. “You move fast for an old man.” He lunged, thrusting low.
Again, his opponent danced away.
“Come on, don’t tease. We’ve got an audience to entertain.” He leapt again, faking low but coming in high. His blade caught nothing but air. He pulled back, his grin gone. The crowd was growing restless and needed to be entertained. He threw himself into a frenzy of slashes and sweeps. High, low, left, right, he put everything he had into the barrage. Sucking in a lungful of hot air, he brought his sword down in a final two-handed cleave.
Stranger met the blow and the rapier wedged deep into the wooden club.
Caleb leaned close, pushing with every ounce of strength he could muster and drove his opponent to his knee. “Quick for an old man.”
“Slow for a pillow-biter,” Stranger whispered into his ear.
Caleb snarled then snapped a head-butt. “Dodge that, you slippery arsehole.”
Stranger staggered back, wiping the blood from his face then straightened, club held loosely to his side. “Forty Five….”
A tough sprang from the crowd and wrapped his chain around Stranger’s neck. With a hard yank, he wrenched him from his feet.
Stranger twisted as he fell and spun a kick into the tough’s jaw with a sickening crunch.
As the tough crumbled, Caleb lunged, the point of his sword driving towards his opponent’s throat.
Stranger whipped the chain from his neck and smashed it into the rapier’s blade, sending it skidding across the floor.
Caleb ducked the chain’s returning sweep and threw himself into Stranger’s legs, tackling him to the floor.
The two men fell and Caleb landed on top. He latched his hands around Stranger’s throat and squeezed.
Again and again, Stranger tried to heave Caleb off but he kept his weight balanced and pushed down on the throat. Stranger’s movements slowed and he grinned as the light faded from Stranger’s eyes. “Call yourself a legend? What a load of-”
“Sixty...” Stranger wheezed.
This fight isn't reading right and I can't work out why. It's from a PoV I don't use again and that might be why. Eitherway, can I get some fresh eyes to give it the once over please?
The countdown ends at 60 and there will be explosions
=========================
Caleb’s grin widened. As with most things, a little planning saved a lot of leg work. When his toughs had run into the crowd, he’d gone the other way. There was after all, only one way out of the Slave Pens.
Watching the man approach, Caleb’s temper tightened. This fool had challenged his authority in front of customers. Fear was everything in a place like this. If your customers were the meanest criminals in the city then the only way they would respect the rules was if the ruler was meaner. He stepped forward. “Well, well, look whose come crawling back. Have you come to say sorry?”
“Fifteen…”
He frowned. “Fifteen what?”
“You and your boys need to get out of my way.” The man smiled. “I’m in a hurry.”
“Oh look, we’ve got ourselves a real character here!” A few toughs laughed but not as many as he’d hoped. That was fine. They just needed reminding why he was a boss. He’d make this lesson painful. He clenched his fists. Very painful. “Before I end your life, what’s your name? I wouldn’t want your wife and kids to wonder how their father died.”
“You can call me Stranger.”
Caleb’s throat tightened, a joke drying on his tongue and he fought the urge to step back. Names had power - that one more than most. “I was going to make this quick but if we’ve got a bonafide hero amongst us, it would be rude not to put on a show. Someone toss him a weapon.”
“I’m no hero,” Stranger muttered as he caught a club tossed by a nearby tough.
“Come now, don’t be modest. You’ve saved a princess! We’ve all heard of your exploits. I mean-”
Stranger stretched his arms above his head and yawned.
The crowd laughed and Caleb scowled. Are they laughing at me? He drew his rapier and began to circle, each foot placed with care, - toe then heel - legs never crossing. “Fine, have it your way.”
Stranger mirrored him, technique flawless. “Thirty…”
“Enough with the numbers!” Caleb leapt forward and slashed at his opponent’s face.
Stranger swayed away, the blade missing by inches.
Springing back, Caleb smiled a flash of teeth. “You move fast for an old man.” He lunged, thrusting low.
Again, his opponent danced away.
“Come on, don’t tease. We’ve got an audience to entertain.” He leapt again, faking low but coming in high. His blade caught nothing but air. He pulled back, his grin gone. The crowd was growing restless and needed to be entertained. He threw himself into a frenzy of slashes and sweeps. High, low, left, right, he put everything he had into the barrage. Sucking in a lungful of hot air, he brought his sword down in a final two-handed cleave.
Stranger met the blow and the rapier wedged deep into the wooden club.
Caleb leaned close, pushing with every ounce of strength he could muster and drove his opponent to his knee. “Quick for an old man.”
“Slow for a pillow-biter,” Stranger whispered into his ear.
Caleb snarled then snapped a head-butt. “Dodge that, you slippery arsehole.”
Stranger staggered back, wiping the blood from his face then straightened, club held loosely to his side. “Forty Five….”
A tough sprang from the crowd and wrapped his chain around Stranger’s neck. With a hard yank, he wrenched him from his feet.
Stranger twisted as he fell and spun a kick into the tough’s jaw with a sickening crunch.
As the tough crumbled, Caleb lunged, the point of his sword driving towards his opponent’s throat.
Stranger whipped the chain from his neck and smashed it into the rapier’s blade, sending it skidding across the floor.
Caleb ducked the chain’s returning sweep and threw himself into Stranger’s legs, tackling him to the floor.
The two men fell and Caleb landed on top. He latched his hands around Stranger’s throat and squeezed.
Again and again, Stranger tried to heave Caleb off but he kept his weight balanced and pushed down on the throat. Stranger’s movements slowed and he grinned as the light faded from Stranger’s eyes. “Call yourself a legend? What a load of-”
“Sixty...” Stranger wheezed.