An Experiment, Part 3 – The Fight

Two votes for the sword and one for hiding.

You pull the sword off the wall and wrench it free from its lightly rusted sheath – which unfortunately makes a great deal of noise. The nearest thug turns, still holding the server at knifepoint – meaning that he cannot block you as you swing wildly at his stomach. The sword is heavy, its balance unfamiliar, and it turns out to be about as sharp as a brick wall. But you hit him, and you hit him hard, and he crumples around the dull blade like wet paper, the knife flying from his grip. The server, freed, gasps in what you hope is relief, but you have no time to check if she is alright because the second invader is advancing on you with studded club raised.

It’s at times like these that you regret never having taken a fencing lesson in your life.

You dodge the first blow by luck and manage to get your borrowed sword in the way of the second on some sort of instinct, though the impact almost knocks it out of your hand. The bandit is much bigger than you, his shoulders broad as a barn door. His club is long and he is angry, for he clearly did not expect a fight. You take a glancing hit on the arm, the club’s nails ripping your shirt, and you try for a thrust that misses completely. The man is grinning. He has your measure now, and does not think much of it.

Flailing with your sword, you manage to parry three of the next four blows and mostly dodge the last, which comes in sideways at your face. You duck, but the club clips the top of your head, knocking you to the floor. You feel blood run down your cheek, and look up to see the bandit looming over you, club raised.

Then the server hits him over the head with a shield. It is a heavy shield, and she can barely lift it in both hands, but it rings like a bell as it cracks the bandit’s skull. He staggers, reeling back, and you get to your feet and wave the sword in his general direction. It is enough. The man turns and staggers for the door as quickly as he can.

The server drops the shield and runs to the side of the fallen regular, who is curled up on the floor, clutching his ribs and groaning. He looks badly hurt – worse than you, at any rate. She looks up, clearly in need of help.

At the bar, the innkeeper is facing down the third bandit with his cudgel. The bandit sports a weal on her face that is already purpling into a bruise, but the barman’s offhand is bloody, his shirt sliced in several places. He too could do with assistance.

And through the open door, you can see the second bandit stumbling towards the treeline. Even dazed as you are, you could catch him easily.

What do you do?

I like how most of you assumed that ‘you’ actually know how to use a sword. You’ve gotten away with it – for now…

Cast your votes here or on Twitter – and stay tuned for next week’s continuation.