A Wilderness Journey from Ravok to Syliras (Solo) 1st of Fall 512 AV Northern Wildlands MODERATOR :
MAP :
OOC :
“Straight. Queen high.” The short, wiry man across from Mac displayed his cards with a grin on his face. He had lost more than he had won this night and had bid this pot up in what Mac guessed was a last-ditch attempt to recoup his loses. “Crap,” the fat man said. He tossed his cards on to the table. “Two pair.” The other two – whom Mac had privately nick-named “Scar Face” and “Beard Man” – had already folded. Mac was a lousy gambler and, true to form, had been losing more than winning this evening. But this time he had the winning hand and a big enough pot to pull him out of the hole. He laid down his seven-high flush. “Read 'em and weep, gentlemen,” he said, unable to resist a broad grin as he reached out to scoop in his winnings. A calloused hand grabbed his wrist and held it in an iron grip. “I don't think so,” Wiry Man said. “I think you been cheatin' us an' I'm callin' you out fer it.” He let go of Mac's wrist and pulled his hand away holding an ace of clubs. “Oh my. Look what fell out of your shirt sleeve.” Mac had a feeling that an otherwise pleasant evening was about to turn decidedly unpleasant. “Not my card, friend,” he said. “And I don't appreciate being set up like that.” The man's fist came across the table so fast it didn't register in Mac's consciousness until it had connected with his jaw. He tumbled over backward, chair crashing to one side. Scar Face and Beard Man were on their feet and turned grim-faced on Mac. Fat Man didn't move, apparently having decided to sit this one out. Mac scrambled to his feet just in time to meet Scar Face's fist, which glanced off his forehead. Mac was not a brawler, preferring to avoid trouble when he could. But he was a big man and strong, so when his unskilled left swing hit Scar Face's face, it knocked the man off his feet and on to the table, which promptly collapsed under him. Beard Man came at him low and punched him in the stomach. Mac doubled over with a “woof” as he got the wind knocked out of him. By this time Wiry Man had gotten around the remains of the table and hit Mac's right cheek bone, which hurt a lot. Beard man had backed up to give Wiry Man room, which he took advantage of to throw a right upper cut. It never connected. Although Mac had not noticed, a large blue man had been sitting alone at another table watching the card game with interest. He moved fast and intercepted Wiry Man's upper cut with one hand on the wrist. He twisted it and the man cried out in pain. Scar Face had found his feet and came at the blue giant. “You want to stay light on your feet in a fight,” he said to Mac as he danced to one side to let Scar Face charge harmlessly past him. The man's momentum carried him into Mac's fist. He went down and didn't get back up. “Keep both hands chest-high and close in,” the blue man continued. “When your opponent comes at you, don't back away. Jab him instead.” He used Beard Man's face to demonstrate with a quick right jab. Beard Man stopped dead in his tracks, a surprised look on his face. Blue Man followed up with two more fast jabs, which made Beard Man stumble backward a few paces. Wiry Man took a round-house swing at Blue Man, which delivered only a glancing blow as Blue Man let his head and upper body turn with the blow. Then he crouched and delivered a blow to Wiry Man's abdomen. “When you hit 'em, put as much of your body into it as you can. That's where the power is.” Mac could see that this was true because Wiry Man folded in half and dropped to the floor. Beard Man decided to take advantage of Blue Man's temporary distraction with Wiry Man, and charged at Mac. Mac took the blue giant's advice and stood his ground. Fists at chest height he met the man with a jab to the head. Beard Man stopped. Mac delivered two more quick hits to the face, producing a spurt of blood from the man's nose. He was feeling pretty good about the fight now, impressed with how effective those quick little jabs could be. Beard man roared and came in swinging. Mac was vaguely aware that Blue Man was just standing there watching. Mac blocked a punch, discovering another advantage to having his fists at chest height and in close. He ducked under the second swing and put his whole body into a punch to the man's stomach. The man backed up with an “oof!” Then he sat down on the floor. “Enough,” he gasped. Mac looked around at the carnage. Two men down, a third sitting on the floor with blood pouring out of his nose. A shattered table. Oddly, Fat Man was still sitting in his chair. “Best gather up your winnings and get out of here before the Ebonstryfe show up,” he said. Mac grabbed what he could from the wreckage of the table and made for the exit. He had gotten a short distance down the street when Blue Man caught up with him. “Mr. Maccabee. I'd like to talk with you if I may,” he said. “I have a job for you.” |