Swordfight Scene (1460+ words)

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Margaret Note Spelling

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I have here a 1,460+ word scene based around an impromptu sword-fighting demonstration, given by the two main characters, and I'd love some feedback on it from you guys, specifically for pacing of the action, clarity, feel, and combat realism. (Brief disclaimer, in case it isn't obvious from the scene--I have never fought for my own life before, and certainly not with a sword. :) I've seen some videos on realistic medieval sword-fighting, and I've spent hours at a time fighting my siblings and friends with polyethylene swords. But none of us had any more idea how to properly do it than the others--so I'm simply trying to work from my own imagination and avoid the obvious movie cliches here.)

I have a few things I'm looking for. Does the action flow smoothly? Can you catch the details of what happens--and if you can't, are you too confused to understand the main gist of it, or is it a clear enough progression of action that the details don't matter? I'm not writing it with the expectation that the average reader would be working through the play-by-play, but if you do try to follow it, does it make sense? It can be hard to deliver an action scene with any entertaining pacing, which is why I'm concerned about this now.

The setting, then. The two combatants are the commanders of two currently-cooperating armies, and they're staging a demonstration with wooden training swords for their audience of soldiers. The fight takes place within a ring of onlookers in an undefined, dirt-packed training field on a hillside, and their two lieutenants, Peter and Galen, are working crowd control. The two commanders have a slight history of dislike, although in front of their armies they work together. Neither of them actually want to injure each other. Their names are Robert and Nyssa (who is the perspective character).

Let's go.


Single-Combat

One shared look. Nyssa shut out the distraction of the crowd, and the world contracted to one twenty-five-foot circle and one cloakless man with a sword two sword-lengths away from her. She dropped into a light crouch and stood motionless, just waiting. Her sword was still. Every movement, every breath and shift and toss of wind about Robert became a thing to watch, an indication of where the next attack would come, where her next attack should strike. Where her target was going be in the next instant of battle.

Only the tiny part of the world they inhabited at this moment mattered.

Robert was pacing, his sword already in restless motion, in stark contrast to hers as he traced roving loops with the point and entirely ignored the noise and people around them in order to focus solely upon her. They had already agreed there would be no rituals, no salutes or gestures before they started--battle began when one of them chose to attack, which allowed for the unpredictability of combat. It could begin now, or after five minutes of feints, or in the middle of conversation, if one of them decided to start talking at some point. Which would have been an enticing option, actually, if it weren't for the fact that talking to Robert could be just as much of a single-combat as a swordfight half the time. They didn't need to make a battle of conversation now--not when they were actually fighting.

Robert stepped forward, blade swinging in a mock offense, an experimental probe into motion. Nyssa launched straight into the attack. Left, right--she twisted away, jumped back, closed in for the attack again and then reversed once more. Simply avoiding Robert's quick parry, she slipped in on his other side for a feint, and as he dodged the attack and responded she took his downswing on her angled blade, sending it skidding away. Amidst wild shouting from the onlookers, they both backed off, breathless and scowling grimly at each other.

First engagement, first flurry of blows, and both had played it relatively safe. This fight would go on until one of them scored a disabling blow--at this rate, it would last until sundown. Someone yelled a comment to this effect, and neither of them acknowledged it, although Nyssa grimaced fully at Robert. She intended to win this fight if it took her until sundown. Robert swung his sword in a small flourish opposite her, a grim, defiant little acknowledgement: so did he. Nyssa swiftly punished him for the unnecessary gesture with a ferocious attack on his nearest exposed side, forcing him to cut his flourish short and scoot to defend himself. It was a minor encounter, and ended with them both backing off again in short order; but it had washed over the temporary personal difference and now they were both focused again, facing each other with the tight and precise fury of battle.

At one point, she might have worried about being too emotionally involved in this fight for clear judgement.

But that was before she'd been through three separate wars.

Robert prowled sideways and attacked, pounding at her guards. Nyssa warded him off with tight defenses, went on the counter-offensive the moment she had an opening, then disengaged and backed off. He was shifting around her, forwards and backwards and sideways, always in motion, his sword weaving in a near-random pattern and his shifting gaze scanning for openings as she turned in place to match his orbit. The moving sword was a distraction and a deflection tactic nearly useless in pitched battle, but excellent for masking intentions in single-combat. It could even be slightly hypnotizing on occasion. The reverse tactic, of course, was simply to wait, poised, sword angled in a basic defense position, and remain as motionless and ready as possible, and that was what Nyssa had chosen to do. It was more difficult; the energy and adrenaline generated during battle ensured that standing still was the last thing anyone wanted to do, but it could also be subtle, confusing, and frankly vicious when one did finally explode into action. The attack could come from anywhere, and there could be a lethal amount of backed-up energy in play. Enough energy, actually, to make anyone careless...no doubt Robert, who knew that as well as she did, was already expecting her to overreach herself in the next attack.

So she made sure to. A swing just a little too powerful, a step just a little too far, and he took the bait, batting her attack away and reversing his swing to cut down at her while she was too close--but she was already pulling her attack back to parry his cut, kicking out at him before the blades even made contact. Shrieks and excited yells from the audience almost made it into the two combatants' private little world, the instant after Robert saw the ploy just in time to avoid the blow; he leaped backwards, Nyssa transitioned into a spring as he swung his sword back around for a waist-level attack, and now they were so close together they were beyond effective sword-blade range. Her weapon caught Robert's on the hilt as they closed to within arm's reach.

The shouting circle around them tightened, despite Peter and Galen's efforts.

The difference between arm's length swordfighting and close-up swordfighting was simply that most strikes were sure to land--but also deal less damage, and the rest of the fight would almost certainly descend into hacking until one of them managed a decisive blow. The safest thing to do, for both of them, was to disengage and wait for another chance if they could--but they had both been through enough pitched battles to know that this was, in fact, the real fight. Survival in battle was decided, mostly, by skill and power at hacking; and if they disengaged now, there would simply be more showy dancing around each other until one of them closed in again. Hacking was, ultimately, true sword-fighting.

And clearly they both wanted the other down more than they were worried about going down themselves.

Robert slid his sword down from her hilt, aiming at her legs. She leveled a downswing at his shoulder and neck. He lunged sideways to avoid it. She drove forward. In the resulting tangle, Robert's sword drove into her left leg and she trapped his swordhand between her side and her arm, wrenching it in sideways and hacking at his neck. He ducked and rolled into her before she could land a good blow, sending them both to the ground.

And that was where it got messy, as all good swordfights did. It was why you always carried daggers in battle. Nyssa jumped against his roll and ended up on top, driving her pommel into the back of his head with as much strength as she dared--which wasn't much--as Robert dragged her down and sideways by the leg, bowling into her with his entire bulk. Everyone was yelling. She rolled onto Robert's sword arm, pinning it between her weight and the ground. He grabbed on the hilt of her sword with his free hand and wrenched. Her legs were pinned, but not efficiently--before he could fully gain control of her sword, she wriggled her leg loose and kicked his shoulder, freeing herself and sending her tumbling backwards with the force of the blow. Off his sword. He yanked it free and brought it around to hack downwards at her chest. She caught the blow on her left arm as she rolled away.

Now was the really smart time to disengage--or at least embark on an aggressive policy of defense. She turned the roll into a crouch. Before she could do more than lift her sword Robert had thrown himself forward, refusing to end. Her defensive jab was knocked aside. In the next instant she was on her back again, twisting, slashed in the shoulder even as her sword came up and flicked him over the head. A bit hard.

Well, if they weren't both of them dead by now, they were at least reasonably disabled. Someone was yelling for them to pull off, let go, you're done, keep it safe, and without conference they both rolled away from each other. Nyssa clambered to her feet immediately--never stay down, get up, always get up or you die--and turned to face her enemy with her sword returned to a warding angle. He was up as well. They were done, although if either or both wanted to continue there was no way any of their soldiers could stop them. She grinned viciously at Robert, who raised his eyebrows--then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed her sword away. His sword followed suit. They would have to determine a winner from what had already happened. End of fight.
 
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I'm not a proficient sword-fighter, so I can't comment on the details beyond saying nothing about the choreography looked strange, odd or wrong to me.

As for pacing, you've got a tricky conundrum here. For me, there was too much explanation during the fight. Pretty much the entire third paragraph ("Robert was pacing...") did nothing but delay the action. Then, after a brief skirmish, paragraph five starts with a short analysis about playing it safe, tells us a bit about the rules of the fight and comments on Nyssa's determination before getting back into combat. All of that takes us out of the action, slows things down and saps tension out of the scene. Likewise with the later description of the "hypnotic" sword movements.

The conundrum is that it's nice to have a sense of the strategy, technique and tricks used by the fighters. I think you've gone a bit too heavy with this, at the expense of pacing and tension. The paragraph describing close-fighting, for example, is a very clean, clinical way of describing something that should be visceral. That paragraph could be cut entirely. Instead, show us the close-in hacking, the dagger work, the kicking and biting. You do some of that but I think you could make it more painful--I'm not sure, for example, what it really meant when her sword "flicked" him over the head "a bit hard". I don't care that they're using wooden swords or that it's a demonstration. Show me they each want to win. Show me the brutality and viscousness of the fight.

Your writing is good: clear, no problems with grammar and there are some really effective bits ("Only the tiny part of the world they inhabited at this moment mattered" and Nyssa playing into Robert's expectation of her overreach). There are a couple of sentences/phrases that gave me pause (I'll try to point them out in another post) but my real issue is that I'm missing a sense of the stakes. That might be due to the fact this is an excerpt but I only got a vague sense of tension between Nyssa and Robert. No real interpersonal conflict, neither seeming overly concerned that they not lose in front of their troops, neither surprised at the extreme force/tactics used by the other in what is supposed to be nothing more than a simple demonstration, neither overly upset by the outcome.

Without a strong sense of something being at stake for either Robert or Nyssa, the most realistic, paciest (can I use that word?) sword fight in the world will lack drama.

In short, action scenes are tough to write. You've got a good start here but I think you can tighten it up.
 
Thanks, @CTRandall! Tighten the action...up the stakes...make the reader feel the emotion and the desperation. I'll remember to concentrate on that when I next take a run through this scene. Looking at it that way, I can see you're right--real drama, with a real basis, does seem to be lacking. As it stands, it just feels like a slightly rougher-than-usual exercise for the two of them. And I bet the main problem is exactly what you've guessed--the fact that it's an excerpt. Even more so than you know, since the book this scene belongs in isn't even written yet! I just skipped ahead to what I thought would be a fun and challenging scene to write. Extremely good eye on you, mate, picking up on the lack of history! ;) I promise I'm working on it as fast as I can.

There are some bits that I cut out of the beginning for length--the opening of the scene showed Nyssa anticipating that the fight would end up extremely rough, for the precise reason that she was determined to win, and there was about a page of understated aggressiveness between the two of them during preparation before it actually gets to this point. But it should have bled through into the actual sword-fight, and it didn't; I was probably focusing too much on getting the technicalities of the sword-fight straightened out by then. Thanks for putting me right on that.

Final note: The "...flicked him over the head. A bit hard...." bit, simply meant she'd been, first of all, aiming for his head; second, partially missed; and third, she was actually worried now that she could have seriously hurt him, especially if she'd actually hit where she was aiming. A probably-too-cryptic indication of how worked-up she realizes she's getting, not controlling her blows. She's experienced enough to expect control of her blow-strength at all times.

I don't know if that explains what I meant; but what I meant is irrelevant anyway, since it didn't come through the text. Thanks again for the feedback!

(Bit of trivia--haven't decided how the debate goes, but I think the troops do end up deciding that, based on what happened, Nyssa had the more likely chance of survival at this point. Supposing it were an actual fight. So, theoretically, she won.)
 
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I think you could probably get away with something like this fine - but I also suspect you could make it stronger.

The first paragraph opens with Nyssa centering herself - I think a focus on that rather than physical details might have helped make it tighter. However, in the next we find Robert was actually pacing and looping his sword - the change from stillness to excessive movement I found jarring. It might make more sense to me if we see Robert's movements first - as it's effectively scene-setting - then Nyssa center herself to avoid being distracted.

I was also itching to see some technical terms, and winced when Nyssa went into a "low crouch" in readiness. If Nyssa is a trained fighter then at least throw a few of these in - it doesn't matter whether they are historically real or made up - but using them emphasises her skill through her thinking. For example, instead of a "low crouch" how about "first guard position, with her sword striking up from her hip". Completely made-up, but little details like that spread about would underline her training - presuming this is even applicable.

Nyssa also says she expects to fight until sundown - to me this is a flag, because IMO sword fights are quick. The longer it lasts, the more likely Nyssa will tire and make a stupid and potentially fatal mistake. Evil characters tend to try and drag things out, because it gives the hero a chance to find a second wind of energy to defeat the evil character while they're still describing their master plan and the one way to stop it. :)

Also, as CTR points out above, you keep throwing us out of any sense of immediacy to explain things. The paragraph beginning "The difference between..." I found especially slowed the narrative, and there were sentences and details before that with a similar effect.

However, all that said I think you have the sort of narrative voice that can be quite popular - I was put in mind of Connie Willis, who IIRC has won more Hugos than any other author. So overall I think you are doing some things right, but I suspect some HEMA readers might end up shaking their heads at the way the fight is described, and others might enjoy a little tighter focus on immediacy. It's up to you as to whether you agree. :)
 
My first thought is that it’s very long and, given that this is a mock-fight in which neither participant is likely to be badly hurt, it needs to carry some serious stakes to justify being so lengthy. This feels like it should be a crucial episode in the story, a turning point, and I didn’t get the feeling that that was happening. Personally, I would cut everything that isn’t in the immediate present, as perceived by the fighters: so the bit about not needing to make conversation can go (also, it’s clear from what happens that they don’t feel the need to make conversation). This also makes it more immediate. You could probably go deeper into Nyssa’s point of view for added intensity. Comments like “The fight would go on until one of them scored a disabling blow” feel rather for the reader’s benefit. I doubt that she would be thinking this right then. If you do need to say this to set out the rules of the fight, I’d put it in earlier, perhaps when they’re arranging to have the duel.

I’m no expert on this (I did a bit of fencing and ninjutsu in the past, but I’m hardly Launcelot), but I’d have thought that once they’re really close with swords locked it would be a matter of grappling or tripping the opponent, or using the free hand to strike at the face, lock an arm, etc, but not to go through with the full effect of the attack since it’s likely to do serious damage. You could draw a dagger up close, but you’d have to be quick, and you could make something of that. There’s a Renaissance swordfighting style that uses a longsword in the right hand and a long dagger (or cloak) in the left, which brings me onto another thing: I’m not sure how these guys are equipped. Now, we’re obviously not at the start of the book, so we would know by now as readers, but I suspect that the equipment would affect their technique a lot. Spindly rapiers are going to be different from medieval longswords. If they’re in armour, it might be necessary to get a blade into a weak spot, or to avoid just bashing metal plate. Which also raises the issue of how much they’re trying to damage each other, and how much they can damage each other. If they’ve got some kind of practice swords, fine, but being hit with a big piece of metal does run the risk of depriving either army of a commander before the battle. They do seem to be pulling their "punches” a bit, which is probably fortunate!

If it sounds as if I’m rubbishing the excerpt, I’m not. It reads very smoothly, and I agree with CT Randall that the writing is good overall and there are some effective lines. There isn’t the problem of “who’s doing what?” that appears in some fight scenes. I think this is a particularly tricky place to start!
 
Let me say first, that I'm not an expert in fighting either, but I've read and watched plenty of videos for my own research. I liked the scene overall, though there are some things you may want to consider.

First, perspective. We're seeing this from Nyssa's POV and she doesn't like Robert. So rather than clinically describing what he's doing at the start of the demonstration, have her critique it in the privacy of her own mind. He's not simply pacing or restless, he's displaying arrogance, carelessness, etc.

And since this is a demonstration, maybe have them talk to their audience. Real fights only last a couple of swings usually, so let them have a brief encounter then part to explain what's going on and they could mix in some veiled sniping at each other. Then another clash, a little more violent as their anger is riled.

And when the action gets frenetic, consider using short sentences or even fragments of one to emphasize that.

So those are my thoughts, but I liked what I read here.
 
Hi,
just a few comments, on the sword action not the scene from a writing perspective.

Too much crouching! A trained swords person would not crouch it gives your opponent the advantage of height.
Too much pacing and swinging of swords. Not sure of what type of swords your combatants are using, but someone trained would watch their opponent, sword in a guard position waiting for movement to signal an attack or to engage in an attack themselves. It is in quick, disengage, and out again.
Never jump as there is a chance of losing your footing.
Footwork is something a swords person practices, with guards, strikes, etc.
It goes on way too long, seen enough sword practice ( wooden practice swords/blunts) over the years to know most exchanges are over within three or four blows.
Sword and dagger is a specific type of combat, think Elizabethan gentlemen. Yes daggers were carried in combat, but unless your combatants are fighting in this manner why mention it.

If your character has gone down, then 9 times out of 10 they are dead.
Suggest you do a bit of research into sword play.
Take a good look at Schola Gladiatoria on Youtube.

This is one of their videos.

 
However, all that said I think you have the sort of narrative voice that can be quite popular - I was put in mind of Connie Willis, who IIRC has won more Hugos than any other author. So overall I think you are doing some things right, but I suspect some HEMA readers might end up shaking their heads at the way the fight is described, and others might enjoy a little tighter focus on immediacy.

...Wow. Wildly startled. I'd never heard of Connie Willis before, but I gave her a look-up on Wikipedia, and...wow.

That's now officially the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I've only ever shown my work to family members before--so kind words on that scale from someone who has no idea who I am is really, really valuable to me. Thank you. Thank all of you guys.

I was worried the scene had gone on too long, which seems to be the main point you guys are picking up on. I'll definitely be looking into shortening it. The idea was primarily that Nyssa and Robert were spending most of their time waiting for the right time to attack, while the actual encounters were over in very short time. Sundown was probably too much of an exaggeration. (Although if I'd included the background fact that the fight takes place over late afternoon in early winter, it might have eased off how jarring the idea was. Sorry.) But I agree, the entire timeframe of the fight probably needs to be compressed.

The dagger-and-longsword thing was actually my main idea for how Nyssa and Robert are accustomed to fighting in battle--ordinary sword in right hand, dagger sheathed and ready for close up encounters. For now, though, they are simply using wooden longswords, hand-and-a-half style hilts that can be used both with one hand or two. Throughout most of the fight they're working two-handed, but as it gets close up they started needing their free hands. No armor.

The issue of Nyssa's perspective is something I'm still working on. She's still a character heavily in development, and this scene was partially meant as a test to determine what kind of voice I wanted to give her. I'll probably end up writing deeper in her thoughts as I get more comfortable with how she thinks. Personally I tend to prefer a balance between deep perspective and slightly wider-view--a balance that I'm still trying to figure out for Nyssa. I probably should considered deliberately going deeper, though, for an action sequence.

And talking to the audience is a great suggestion. My only worry is that it would slow the action down even further. But maybe I could make it work.

@Susan Boulton: Thanks, you sound really knowledgeable about this! And I really should have spent more time looking around for a better word than "crouch"; the word probably sounded like a really low crouch to readers, which wasn't really what I was imagining--I was picturing a simple knees-bent, feet-apart, braced to move, lower-center-of-gravity kind of stance. Using the word "crouch" was careless of me. (Although the last use of it, towards the end, was a low-end crouch, simply because Nyssa didn't have enough time to rise farther.) Anyway, the video and the channel look fascinating, and I'll be sure to check it out once I get on a good internet connection--meanwhile, is it all right if I ask you a few quick questions?

First of all, how hard is it, really, to kill someone with a sword, even when they're on the ground and so are you? Injure, beat to death, sure--but that takes a bit more time than slashing off their head, and actually killing somebody, instead of just brutally disabling them, can be kind of hard at close quarters, am I right?

Second, can you slash somebody's head off with a sword? I imagine a really good blow could kill them, but how big of a swing would you need for that? (I appreciate that you probably have not actually experimented with this. ;))

Anyway, last point--the jumping issue was when Nyssa was already about to go down under with her opponent, and was concerned about landing on top rather than underneath. I understand jumping isn't usually a viable tactic, but I guess it made sense to me under the circumstances, since the fight had changed from a sword-fight to a semi-fistfight when Robert bowled into her. I'm not sure if that changes anything about the fighting principles they're operating under. They're well-trained, yes, but after practice their most significant training came through surviving real fights, which means that for them, dirty tactics, desperate blows, don't-give-up-when-you're-down, and fewer "Form One Guard Position"s would have been the norm. Anyway, I'll watch that video and see what I can do about incorporating more realism into what happens here. My goal is to have it as realistic as possible (although if I do need to just make things up that are hard to define for certain, I'll do so quite happily).

Thanks a bunch for the fantastic suggestions and comments, everybody. Clearly I've still got a lot of work to do--but it's not hopeless. :p
 
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The crouching thing is a good point. There's a standard knees-bent fighting stance, useful for moving quickly and absorbing hits, that we don't seem to have an easy word for in English. I've seen it called a "wrestler's crouch", but that sounds a bit odd (to my mind, "crouch" is pretty much "squatting"). Something made up like "the first stance" or "a fencer's stance" might work, as it sounds like something you'd learn early on in training.

My understanding is that you can decapitate someone with a sword with one or two blows if they're held down. It helps if the sword is massive or exceptionally sharp (or both!). But if the enemy is moving about, it would take a powerful and very well-aimed blow, and if you missed you'd probably be wide open. I'm sure there are easier ways to dispose of an enemy.
 
H'm. In that case, stabbing sounds like it might be your best chance of killing an enemy with a sword. Short, quick stabs--especially at the face. I'll have to research that. (y) Thanks, @Toby Frost.

[Edit: In hindsight, "What's the best way to kill someone with a sword?" was probably not the safest question to put into Google. I'm on Quora, where someone asked the same question--and there's a host of related posts about how to efficiently kill someone with a knife, what it feels like to kill someone, etc. Apparently there are some people who're pretty...informed about the subject. It's really interesting research, especially considering the kind of world my characters live in, where they have to know that kind of thing. I just hope I haven't flagged any watchdog programs with my internet activity!]
 
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This is a good start for setting up what you need to have happen; however you might want to look at how much this slows down the action.
You might want to look for books like this
The ebook is relatively inexpensive.
I'm not saying that slowing things down is all that bad: just that you should be aware of how much it will slow it down if you chose to go this route.
I'm not sure that in this instance fencing as is often described would apply however if your sword-fight demonstration has a discipline to it similar to fencing then....
With that in mind I would suggest, if you haven't experience fencing yourself, you might want to find a glossary of fencing terms.
For a few terms:

You can probably call things anything you want; however why reinvent the wheel, and if you are going to give great description of the whole process you might consider that while it slows them down it might focus those who have fenced into critiquing form and the terminology.
Then there is the whole issue of whether what happens could happen and could happen in the order of the description.

You might consider defining what type of sword is used in serious battle.

e.g. A Typical Epee is not going to be as good at cutting-mostly good at stabbing. A rapier has a wider blade for cutting and stabbing however is not as light as the Epee.

If this is longsword fencing there are things that can be done with two handed fencing that aren't seen in with the lighter fencing of rapier and Epee.(There may even be other useful terms.)

In an uncontrolled fight the combatants would need to know both swords-strengths and weaknesses; especially if you were going into a dangerous fight miss-matched.

If these people are well schooled in fencing, it's likely that they will be thinking in terms of those glossary of terms you chose, when they have time to think. However, getting back to slowing things down, you have to keep in mind that any thought about the actions and stances has to be delivered as quickly as possible and then the moves and counter moves are the proper responses or there are consequences. Even though there is little time at the moment to go through this in their heads, they will act from training, and instinct from that training and drill and those response and expectation will be more instinctual almost reflexive; however you will be describing those action that may on some level look like focused decisions made in the heat of battle.

In a real battle there are no rules; though the terms of style still may apply and the lack of rules might allow room for them to do something unique or desperate beyond tournament fencing.

Anyway, one point I'm trying to make here is that sometimes a term might say more than what a whole sentence says and that will shorten the delay you cause in your action scene. In the heat of battle any time a series of actions can be distilled down to one term that will help speed things back up. Any amount of overt description is going to slow it down and draw attention and run the chance of ruining the scene.

I have a Sword-play scene in my second book and I'm certain that some overt description did slow things a bit; however I was willing to take that risk.

Since your scene is suppose to be a demonstration, the expectation for action might be reduced. That does make this an optimal time to play around with play by play action.
 
First of all, how hard is it, really, to kill someone with a sword, even when they're on the ground and so are you? Injure, beat to death, sure--but that takes a bit more time than slashing off their head, and actually killing somebody, instead of just brutally disabling them, can be kind of hard at close quarters, am I right?

Second, can you slash somebody's head off with a sword? I imagine a really good blow could kill them, but how big of a swing would you need for that? (I appreciate that you probably have not actually experimented with this. ;))
Their fighting style would be adapted to the kind of opponents they face. If they face armored opponents, strikes at gaps in the armor and especially stabs would dominate. Even mail or a good gambeson can make slashing ineffective. There would also be emphasis on maneuvering your opponent into a position where he can be ended. Or force him to surrender if things like ransom are a thing.

Decapitating somebody is hard, takes a lot of energy, and most people are going to be wearing a helmet if they wear any sort of armor.
 
You have a lot of useless filler words that could easily be removed to make it flow better.
 
Thanks for letting me know! Could you give one or two examples, please?

She dropped into a light crouch and stood motionless, just waiting.

Remove "just." Better yet, you could say: "She dropped into a motionless crouch, waiting."

Where her target was going be in the next instant of battle.


Remove was going, replace with "would."

Those are just two examples.

I suspect if you used a program such as ProWritingAid or Hemmingway (or something similar) it could point a lot of filter words out that could be removed.
 
filter words

Not sure if this is a typo, because you were talking about "filler words" before and they're different things. For anyone who doesn't know, "filter words" would be to say something like "He saw the eagle take off" rather than "The eagle took off" -- you're adding a filter of the character's awareness of their own senses, which detracts from immediacy (most times). Both filler and filter are candidates for removal.

Sozme's examples of tightening are good, but beware of extending it into a quest to squeeze word-count as much as possible. That can actually make writing flow less well, as I've found to my cost in the past.
 
@sozme Good suggestions, thanks--I think I see the sort of thing you're talking about. (English is one of those amazing languages where you can say the exact same thing in half a dozen different ways!)

Sometimes, I think, filter words can be necessary to establish perspective. Filler words are definitely things to get rid of (especially when they turn into filler sentences!) but I kind of agree with Harebrain that sometimes meaning can accidentally be lost in the quest for fewer words.

For example, "She dropped into a light crouch and stood motionless, just waiting."

People have already taken issue with the word "crouch" in that sentence, and I think I was unconsciously anticipating some of that, since I wanted to indicate she was also standing. Ease off the lowness of the word "crouch" somewhat, since I didn't have an alternate word for that inaccurate term. It's not the sentence that I ultimately want, since it's still confusing, and using both words definitely makes it awkwardly long, but if I did simply make it shorter and say "She dropped into a motionless crouch, waiting," it would remove a little of the intended meaning.

The solution, I'm pretty sure by now, is to find a different word than "crouch" and simply construct a new sentence around that. Ditch the original entirely.

The principle is good, though. There's not a whole lot of difference in meaning between "was going to" and "would," for instance, and that's an easy switch. I'll probably be making that change. Thank you!

But about computers correcting text--well, as far as I'm concerned, that sort of thing is more a job for people, who can actually hear how a sentence and paragraph sounds. Proofreaders. Frankly, I'm not keen on letting a computer program tell me how to construct an ear-pleasing sentence. It'll probably freak at every sentence fragment (and if it saw my "Proofreaders" sentence up there, I suspect it'd just give up. Scrub the whole thing.) Seriously, I'd be surprised if it even took into account the context of sentences around the one it's fixing.

So for now, I'll stick to people. But thanks for the thought, and the corrections. :)
 
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So... I feel like a heel for saying this but, based on reading the foreword and why this is happening and then reading the scene itself - I don't think this scene makes sense to begin with.

First reason - soldiers, by and large, don't need to be able to fence like this. They don't have the space in battle. They're carrying a better weapon than a sword to begin with (or should be). If they're in a position to do this, then things have either gone so well they can gang up on people, or so badly they should be trying running.

Second... lets say they're doing it anyway - maybe they're skirmishers, or maybe there's some other reason - why do we care about this particular moment of training more than the thousand other possible training moments that exist in the story? I don't feel like we learn anything about Nyssa here, nor does anything seem to change as a result of what happens here, nor does it seem like the emotional resolution of anything. And, well, a scene that neither informs us about the characters, nor changes the plot, not gives us resolution... doesn't belong in a story.

This aside, going for it with my comments in italics -

Single-Combat

One shared look. Nyssa shut out the distraction of the crowd, and the world contracted to one twenty-five-foot circle and one cloakless man does it matter that he's cloakless with a sword two sword-lengths away from her. She dropped into a light crouch and stood motionless, just waiting. how can she be crouched *and* standing? Incidentally, I agree about the awkwardness of there not really being anything for a swordsman's crouch. Her sword was still. Every movement, every breath and shift and toss of wind about Robert became a thing to watch, an indication of where the next attack would come, where her next attack should strike. Where her target was going be in the next instant of battle.

Only the tiny part of the world they inhabited at this moment mattered.

Robert was pacing pacing where? is she having to move to deal with his movement?, his sword already in restless motion, in stark contrast to hers as he traced roving loops with the point and entirely ignored the noise and people around them in order to focus solely upon her. They had already agreed there would be no rituals, no salutes or gestures before they started--battle began when one of them chose to attack, which allowed for the unpredictability of combat. It could begin now, or after five minutes of feints, or in the middle of conversation, if one of them decided to start talking at some point. Which would have been an enticing option, actually, if it weren't for the fact that talking to Robert could be just as much of a single-combat as a swordfight half the time. They didn't need to make a battle of conversation now--not when they were actually fighting.

The talk of a sudden unpredictable start makes the actual slow build up more noticeable. I feel like this could all be one paragraph.

Incidentally, I have very little idea how I'd envision this scene - clothes, physical description, weather, everything apart from the circle and him being cloakless. And I guess maybe some wind? If I'd read the whole book I'd have some more but even so, maybe not that much. If you want to set the scene - and I think it'd be better - you need to do this before the action starts. Maybe that happened just before the start of this sample. However, one thing that I think should be part of setting the scene that is part of the combat and happens before the blades cross is physically sizing the other one up. Are they bigger? Do they look fit? Light on their feet? What's their reach like? That stuff is important if you're going to fight someone. And do they look nervous? Angry? Could you trick them into being stupid? Are they going to take risks? Can you take risks?


Robert stepped forward, blade swinging in a mock offense, an experimental probe into motion. I don't think calling it mock makes sense - it's not like he'd pull it if she walked into it, or he's just pretending to fight, right? Nyssa launched straight into the attack. Left, right--she twisted away, jumped back, closed in for the attack again and then reversed once more. Simply avoiding Robert's quick parry, she slipped in on his other side for a feint, and as he dodged the attack and responded she took his downswing on her angled blade, sending it skidding away. Amidst wild shouting from the onlookers, they both backed off, breathless and scowling grimly at each other.

First thing... if you wanted me to re-enact this myself, I couldn't. That's not a big deal really, but I don't get the "left, right".

I also don't get why she'd feint when she's beaten the parry - that's a time to go for it, not feint - and don't think they'd be breathless after, what, five seconds of fighting at most?

Also just noticed you used attack three times there (because you used it again below) and I think you're using it too much.


First engagement, first flurry of blows, and both had played it relatively safe. This fight would go on until one of them scored a disabling blow--at this rate, it would last until sundown. Someone yelled a comment to this effect, and neither of them acknowledged it, although Nyssa grimaced fully at Robert. She intended to win this fight if it took her until sundown. Robert swung his sword in a small flourish opposite her, a grim, defiant little acknowledgement: so did he. Nyssa swiftly punished him for the unnecessary gesture with a ferocious attack on his nearest exposed side, think it might be better to say right or left here - better sense of where they all are forcing him to cut his flourish short and scoot to defend himself. It was a minor encounter, and ended with them both backing off again in short order; but it had washed over the temporary personal difference and now they were both focused again, facing each other with the tight and precise fury of battle.

At one point, she might have worried about being too emotionally involved in this fight for clear judgement.

I'm not getting emotion here; the hints of some, but not enough. Also... if they're both so utterly focused as they are at the start, why are they acknowledging the crowd anyway?

Also - "relatively safe", "grimaced fully", "small flourish", " grim, defiant little acknowledgement", "swiftly punished", "unnecessary gesture", "feorcious attack", "tight and precise fury of battle" - all cases where those extra words could maybe be cut; they're slowing the pace down and are they really making the picture fuller?


But that was before she'd been through three separate wars.

Robert prowled sideways and attacked, pounding at her guards. Nyssa warded him off with tight defenses, went on the counter-offensive the moment she had an opening, then disengaged and backed off. He was shifting around her, forwards and backwards and sideways, always in motion, his sword weaving in a near-random pattern and his shifting gaze scanning for openings as she turned in place to match his orbit. The moving sword was a distraction and a deflection tactic nearly useless in pitched battle, but excellent for masking intentions in single-combat. It could even be slightly hypnotizing on occasion. The reverse tactic, of course, was simply to wait, poised, sword angled in a basic defense position, and remain as motionless and ready as possible, and that was what Nyssa had chosen to do. It was more difficult; the energy and adrenaline generated during battle ensured that standing still was the last thing anyone wanted to do, but it could also be subtle, confusing, and frankly vicious when one did finally explode into action. The attack could come from anywhere, and there could be a lethal amount of backed-up energy in play. Enough energy, actually, to make anyone careless...no doubt Robert, who knew that as well as she did, was already expecting her to overreach herself in the next attack.

This is a lot of words for describing not much and while I like that you point out the "this isn't pitched battle stuff", I'm not sure it makes sense to think it there and then.

Re The Standing in place thing... the energy with which you hit something comes from motion, not from standing still, right? So I don't get how this tactic makes sense. Maybe someone who's done more martial arts than me would disagree, but Robert is the one I'm expecting to have a lethal amount of energy going because he's already moving. And okay, yes, Nyssa can take multiple steps to build that energy, but since Robert is moving he can either get close enough to take that space away, or be far away enough that he can simply backpedal out the way.


So she made sure to. A swing just a little too powerful, a step just a little too far, and he took the bait, batting her attack away and reversing his swing to cut down at her while she was too close--but she was already pulling her attack back to parry his cut, kicking out at him before the blades even made contact. Shrieks and excited yells from the audience almost made it into the two combatants' private little world, the instant after Robert saw the ploy just in time to avoid the blow; he leaped backwards, Nyssa transitioned into a spring as he swung his sword back around for a waist-level attack, and now they were so close together they were beyond effective sword-blade range. Her weapon caught Robert's on the hilt as they closed to within arm's reach.

The shouting circle around them tightened, despite Peter and Galen's efforts.

The difference between arm's length swordfighting and close-up swordfighting was simply that most strikes were sure to land--but also deal less damage, and the rest of the fight would almost certainly descend into hacking until one of them managed a decisive blow. The safest thing to do, for both of them, was to disengage and wait for another chance if they could--but they had both been through enough pitched battles to know that this was, in fact, the real fight. Survival in battle was decided, mostly, by skill and power at hacking; and if they disengaged now, there would simply be more showy dancing around each other until one of them closed in again. Hacking was, ultimately, true sword-fighting.

If you're that close, you don't have much thinking time, and you're probably going for grappling/unarmed strikes heavily. I know you do this a few paragraphs down, but it should be happening down.

And clearly they both wanted the other down more than they were worried about going down themselves.

Robert slid his sword down from her hilt, aiming at her legs. She leveled a downswing at his shoulder and neck. He lunged sideways to avoid it. She drove forward. In the resulting tangle, Robert's sword drove into her left leg and she trapped his swordhand between her side and her arm, wrenching it in sideways and hacking at his neck. He ducked and rolled into her before she could land a good blow, sending them both to the ground.

And that was where it got messy, as all good swordfights did. It was why you always carried daggers in battle. Nyssa jumped against his roll and ended up on top, driving her pommel into the back of his head - this is game over in a real fight; arguably people should be shouting "You're done here" - with as much strength as she dared--which wasn't much--as Robert dragged her down and sideways by the leg, bowling into her with his entire bulk. Everyone was yelling. She rolled onto Robert's sword arm, pinning it between her weight and the ground. He grabbed on the hilt of her sword with his free hand and wrenched. Her legs were pinned, but not efficiently--before he could fully gain control of her sword, she wriggled her leg loose and kicked his shoulder, freeing herself and sending her tumbling backwards with the force of the blow. Off his sword. He yanked it free and brought it around to hack downwards at her chest. She caught the blow on her left arm as she rolled away.

Now was the really smart time to disengage--or at least embark on an aggressive policy of defense. She turned the roll into a crouch. Before she could do more than lift her sword Robert had thrown himself forward, refusing to end. Her defensive jab was knocked aside. In the next instant she was on her back again, twisting, slashed in the shoulder even as her sword came up and flicked him over the head. A bit hard.

Well, if they weren't both of them dead by now, they were at least reasonably disabled. Someone was yelling for them to pull off, let go, you're done, keep it safe, and without conference they both rolled away from each other. Nyssa clambered to her feet immediately--never stay down, get up, always get up or you die--and turned to face her enemy with her sword returned to a warding angle. He was up as well. They were done, although if either or both wanted to continue there was no way any of their soldiers could stop them. She grinned viciously at Robert, who raised his eyebrows--then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed her sword away. His sword followed suit. They would have to determine a winner from what had already happened. End of fight.

So... practice fights are weird, because they're not vicious, but this was too thinky and too writer-y for me. It could be tighter, I think it needs to be more emotion driven and that's a big one for me. One on one duels? There's something riding on them. It's never just about the action.

The actual action wasn't smooth, but I don't care about that. Fighting is chaotic. My big criticism was it felt very Hollywood kung-fu esque - a lot of scampering about, a lot of gymnastics. Can you fight that way? Sure. Is it a super idea when doing so lessens your ability to control the sharpened four feet of steel and your opponent still has theirs? Ehhh... but whatevs. Depends what you want to do. But that wasn't what didn't work for me. It was the lack of stakes and the lack of any sense of ebb and flow, triumph and despair. It was uncannily even all the way through.

Finally - as for how easy it is to kill a human being with a sword... search for a Youtube channel by a guy called Skallagrim and look for the videos of him testing weapons on ballistic gel dummies. We are fragile. Obviously armour and leverage of position changes things, but it really doesn't take much to get steel into a body and from there shock is a thing, arteries are a thing... there's also blunt force trauma. Which is a big thing. There's a reason they called simply grabbing the sword by the blade and smacking the foe with the blunt part a murder-strike. Even if they survive (likely tbf), there's a good change they're stunned enough that they won't survive what comes next. That pommel strike to the back of the head? I have been kneed in the back of the head and it took me a solid 5-10 seconds to contemplate moving. Granted I didn't have the motivation of not getting stabbed to hurry the process up but I don't think it would have made a big difference.
 
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