Now, Before we start I would like to say some important stuff. First of all, I believe it is important to specify that I'm not a native English speaker. I think you could've deduced that by my writing name but I think it's important to state it either way. That would explain why most of the quotes are in this « » format and not this " one. It doesn't change much really, just the way we do things over here. Some idioms might also appear weird and I do apologize if that is the case. I don't have a complete grasp over the Language of Shakespeare but I do try my best to keep it tidy and concise.
For the matter of reviews and likes, Feel free to leave either of those. I do believe in constructive criticism and will take it to heart as I am aware that what I write is nowhere near perfect. It IS my first fiction after all. Other than that, I would simply ask of you to enjoy this story. I have a few Chapters already written so you won't have to worry about it dying as of yet :D
Update: I went over the chapter again and I must say I wasn't pleased in the way some sentences were form. It didn't seem natural in the end so I took the liberty of fixing the overall typos while also making sure to add a sentence or two to add sense to the story as a whole. Mainly a description of the main character as it was pointed out to me that why I used so far wasn't enough. The fight scene should be more cohesive now.
'Liquid courage' Or so that's what they often called it. A beverage that would allow any man to stand against his fears. He found himself often thinking about what people found so enjoyable in these liquors. Seldom were they tasteful and rarer still did they bring anything good to the table. Yet, that's all they had on tap around here, being a small tavern didn't 't necessarily warrant serving water to any of those who'd demand it. Especially since the keeper wouldn't make any money from it.
Staring at his drink, he couldn't help but nitpick at his reflection. One thing was sure, he was a sorry sight. It had been a while since he last bathed and it showed. The mop of messy black hair, combined with a dirty face and unkempt stubble didn't do him any favor. His pale grey eyes emptily stared back before he downed his cup. 'I look like a hobo' he thought 'probably smell like one too'
Signing for the bartender to give him a refill, he sighed as the gruff man's voice reached his ears.
« You're new to town aren't ya » Small talk. Not surprising considering the bar was literally empty at this time of the day
« Hmm » Was all he could be bothered to answer, eyes locked on his cup as liquid began to pour in once again
« We've got a real talker here ! Well, it doesn't really matter as long as you pay. What's yer name fella ? »
« Jett, and that's all you're getting from me » he said as he downed his drink once again, stood up, slapped a gold on the table, and grabbed his greatsword resting against the counter before making for the door. Opening it he hoisted his weapon over his shoulder, strapping it against his back before setting out.
Looking around, he began traversing the town he'd been residing in for the past few days. Making for the market, it didn't take long for the raven haired man to reach his destination. As usual, the the city center was bustling with activity : Merchants advertising their wares, children running around, customers trying to haggle to save what little money they could. It was loud, uncomfortably so. Yet he didn't mind, it was the good kind of noise, the sound of people living their life, being happy.
Reaching a stall that was noticeably less swarmed by the sea of consumers, Jett bought a single apple before sitting at the nearest bench. It was something that would keep him fed for the afternoon, he didn't have much on himself and Naga knew how long it'd be until he'd find another Job.
'I should start looking for work soon, got to pay for room and food, and that's not going to be free' Lost in thought, he fiddled with the apple in his hands, tossing it around before biting a sizeable chunk out of it. Life had been rough the past few years, he managed to get by mostly, but it was just that : 'managed'. If only he had stable income, something that would pay nicely. Or not even nicely, just something that allowed him to get by without having to put his life on the line. Being a bounty hunter didn't pay as much as he'd dream. And the big contracts often required a group of people to have a chance to come back alive.
Leaning back on the bench, he proceeded to finish his half eaten apple, taking his time to enjoy the little sustenance he could get until dinner. Watching people wasn't necessarily a pastime of his, but he could still understand the appeal of it. He couldn't repress a smile as he saw an elderly couple tag teaming on a shopkeeper, trying to haggle the price down as much as they could. Looking to the side he could see a child, running around with a carefree smile as her mother struggled to keep up with her. People were walking to and fro, going about their daily lives.
It was calming in a sense, until a scream echoed through the marketplace
« Please, PLEASE I BEG YOU, I'LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING JUST DO- » The voice was cut short. Silence following as the entire place became muted, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The deafening silence lasted for only a few seconds, yet felt like an hour. Right before all hell broke loose.
People began screaming, running for their lives as a group of bandits were walking over the market. Cutting down any guard who threw themselves in the way. The more armored bandit, who appeared to be the leader if his behavior was any indicator, half yelled half screamed.
« Get to it, lads! Grab anything shiny, and put the rest to the torch »
The following few seconds were a blur. Steel rasping against steel, screams of terror, of pain and despair. The picturesque town now turning to a terrifying display as the citizens were cut down where they stood. Smoke began erupting from whence the bandits came, the fire spreading dangerously throughout the city as one thing became very clear.
They would not make any quarters.
Unstrapping his sword in one practiced motion, Jett hurried towards the group of bandits. The odds were against him, and he knew from experience that these monsters are very unlikely to play fair, so he wouldn't bother to do so either.
Stepping forth with what little bravado he could muster, Jett stood opposite of the group of bandit, his hands clammy, heart beating faster. Whether it was from the anticipation that came before battle, or the simple fear of death, no one knew. But one thing was certain, he wouldn't go down without a fight. Standing opposite of the group of bandits, he simply said :
« Let's get this over with . »
Silence overcame the plaza once more. The bandits seemingly dumbfounded by the gall of the man standing before them. Raucous Laughter erupting soon after. With a minute or so of uncontained laughter, the leader managed to speak up. Still struggling to calm himself down.
« Did you hear that men ? This clown over here thinks he's a match for us ! Now fella, I'd gladly stomp you into the ground and make an ornamental piece with those steel balls of yours. That being said, I've got more fun matters to attend to. I hope you won't mind if my boys right here take my place instead ! Bring everything you can find to the chapel, I'll be waiting for you ! » Heading off, the chief didn't bother sparing a second glance as he made his way towards the town's place of worship.
With their leader gone, the group split. Three quarters of the bandits scattering to various directions while a few remained to take care of Jett. Flourishing their weapons as means of provocation, they slowly crept up towards him, throwing meaningless insults towards his readied frame. Internally, Jett was freaking out. Four against one wasn't good odds. He may have had the benefit of range as these fools couldn't tell that pointy sticks would be much more efficient than swords and axes in their case, but it didn't change much when they could swarm him fairly easily. He'd have to be quick about it.
Getting visibly irritated by the lack of reaction from their opponent, one of the bandits decided that they'd waited long enough. Rushing forward with their axe raised high, they made for a downward cleave the move being much more telegraphed than it had any right to be. Raising his sword swiftly to deliver what should have been a clean cut to the man's chest, he only found himself cleaving through air as the bandit rolled to the side. Conserving his momentum, Jett redirected the energy of the strike, circling the blade above his head before swinging it downwards. This time the cut had been clean, slicing the bandit's leg right off right as he was trying to recover from the roll. It wouldn't kill him right away, but it did put him out of the fight.
Turning to face the remaining three bandits, the raven haired man narrowly dodged a cut that would've slit his throat right off. Not wasting time, he shoulder checked his assailant forcing him a few paces back before rolling to the side just as a sword clanged behind him. 'This isn't good ' he thought ' I need to take them down fast'.
Recovering from his own roll, Jett slashed violently in an upward arc, nicking the rags that could be called the bandit's shirt, yet not breaking any skin. The frustration grew with every missed cut. Yet he could only blame himself for not being efficient enough.
Setting his sword in an Ochs Stance, the blade over his head, point parallel to the ground and aimed straight at its intended target, Jett pressed on. With one step forward, he thrusted his sword, plunging the blade deep inside his enemy's chest, piercing right through the armor. The man's eyes widened for a second before his body went limp, unfortunately dragging Jett's sword with him.
After a quick second spent debating whether or not he should try to unwedge his sword out of the man's carcass, he didn't notice in time one of the last two bandits tackling him to the ground. Forcing him on his back as the man tried to wedge his shortsword against Jett's throat. In a moment of panic, the bounty hunter decked his assailant in the face, forcing the bandit to rear back with his hand shooting towards the pain, feeling for any wound.
That turned out to be the last mistake the man ever made. Reaching for his knife, Jett wasted no time to stab it straight into his temple, forever pinning the bandit's hand to his face as his body went limp. Sadly, that also meant hindering Jett's movement as he found himself stuck under the man. Unable to free himself in time, he visibly paled as the last bandit prepared himself to visibly skewer both him and the corpse. Winding up, he made for a downward thrust, putting all his strength into this vicious stab
Closing his eyes and contracting every muscle in his body in a futile attempt to lessen the blow, it's needless to say how surprised Jett was when it never came. Instead, only an audible gasp accompanied by the smell of ozone as his almost to be murderer's lifeless body crashed beside him.
« Hey ! Are you alright over there ?! » a feminine voice graced his ears. Laced with worry if the tone was any clue.
Still stuck under the other fallen bandit's corpse, all Jett managed to let out was an exerted grunt as he forced it to the side. Eyes closed for a few seconds, deep breath to accompany the newfound feeling of being alive before he finally dared open them again.
Dun-Dun-Duuuuun! We all know who saved Jett's ass. But I really needed a cutting point otherwise the chapter would've be absolutely gigantic. Hopefully you Enjoyed!