by Berus on March 12th, 2011, 5:12 am
Berus took his place directly in front of the Bartender, outwardly calm but inwardly a whirlwind of crashing thoughts. Oh crap. I’m about to get beat up. The bartender may have used sneaky moves in his last fight, but he has to be a great brawler after all the fights he had to break up over the years. I’m going to have to be very careful… and not mess up. Still managed to smile disarmingly at the Bartender, his typical greeting, even as his eyes shifted from green to a fierce blue. The bartender responded by cracking the knuckles of his admittedly strong hands. The bartender only had three inches on Berus, not an unreasonable advantage, but he was more broad shouldered and bore many battlescars, including a large bite-mark on one ear.
The two stood staring at each other for a few minutes, the bartender nonchalantly staring at the bard with his arms crossed and the bard simply smiling back. “Well, if you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you,” the bartender declared. He stalked forward, arms at his sides and showing no open threat. Berus was alert, however, and noticed that the bartender’s right arm twitched expectantly, as if it was about to perform a powerful punch…
Berus struggled to remain where he was, acting as if he sensed no threat. Then, just as the bartender threw his suckerpunch, Berus ducked underneath the blow. The bartender’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second as his blow swished through Berus’s black hair but then narrowed as he brought his knee up to smash into the foolish bard’s chin.
“Ha! Think I ain’t got reflexes?” the bartender taunted as the blow connected with a crack, Berus falling backward. The bard fell hard back into the snow, but not before his foot snapped up into the groin of the bartender. The bartender fell backward into the snow himself, his taunt becoming a groan of pain.
The bard leapt to his feet, massaging his jaw. “Beat dirty fighting with dirty fighting?” Berus asked, as he walked over to where the bartender was rolling around on the ground in pain. The bartender, who had seemed so dangerous and in control a minute ago, a powerful veteran of many brawls who could take more damage than the average man, was pathetically rolling around and groaning.
Something’s not right here…
Berus jumped backward just as the thought crossed his mind. Even as he did so, the bartender swung his leg out in an attempt to trip up the bard, his injury instantly becoming a thing of the past. His leg only clipped Berus as he retreated, causing the bard to stumble but keep his footing. The bartender stood up, brushing off his shoulders with his left hand. “Very surprising there.. err.. I think your name was Barry?”
Berus shook his head. “It’s Berus.”
“Oh, Berus then. I didn’t expect that shot, congrats on landing it.” The bartender laughed. “I guess even a newbie has his moments, eh? Well, you won’t land another one, that I promise you!” The bartender advanced and Berus, not willing to get in range of the man’s arms without knowing what he was going to do, retreated step-for-step.
The bartender stopped his advance and grinned at the bard. Berus grinned back, unsure of what the bartender’s next move would be. His legs tensed to leap away from a charge. Then, the bartender’s right hand launched forward throwing something at Berus’s face!
It hit before the bard had a chance to react and the he fell back, stunned. Berus choked for just a moment until he realized what it was; the bartender had thrown a snowball at him!
Just as he reached that realization, the bartender’s fist came flying at his nose. Berus dodged to the right to avoid the blow, but it clipped him on the left shoulder and caused him to almost fall sideways into the snow. The bartender followed his attack with a swift uppercut, but Berus allowed himself to fall down to the right and into a roll, safely out of the bartender’s reach. The bartender came on, though, pressing his advantage. His fists made quick jabs at the bard as he continued to roll right away from the onslaught.
The bartender, tired of the game, suddenly leapt forward to deliver a powerful right punch at the retreating bard, seizing an opportunity when the bard slowed. However, his attack fell harmlessly short because the bard suddenly ceased his rolling, stopped in a crouching position, and launched his own snowball right into the eyes of the bartender.
The bartender overbalanced and fell forward because of the powerful swing, landing hard in the snow. Berus, seizing the opportunity, jumped on top of the bartender’s back. He held his fists ready to deliver a knockout blow to the back of the man’s head. “Yield!” he demanded in a shaky voice. Though he felt triumphant, the bard had the nagging feeling that he had won by the skin of his teeth.
^ thanks to Cheshire and Darren =D