Winter 20, 514
Tall Johnny's Casino and Cage Fights
Tall Johnny's Casino and Cage Fights
It had been another long day at work for Dieter keeping the casino a safe place, as safe as one of these places could be anyways. Tall Johnny’s was a decent place to work, lots of people were around and things were always happening. There was always something to watch from the people who had clearly had too much to drink, to the people losing a week’s pay at the games that the casino offered. They were always quite entertaining and often upset, demanding refunds or just trying to swipe their money back and run. It was in these situations that Dieter or one of the other guards had to step in and help the people who were trying to keep control of the game tables.
But more entertaining than any of these things are the fights, people pitted one against the other in fair hand to hand combat. These fights had always intrigued Dieter even though he was less of a styled fighter and more of the person that finds anything in the environment and takes advantage of it. He had almost all of his combat training in bar fights and a small amount from his father, but his father focused more on sword fighting than the hand to hand combat. Sword fighting was more proper, more appropriate for a child hoping to be a squire. Being a squire was never Dieters dream, it was his fathers; his father wanted Dieter to try and be a squire, for Dieter to have a better life than the one his father had.
Dieter was caught up in thought and hadn’t been paying attention to the place around him as he wandered over to the cage. There was an intense contest going on at the time, and Dieter recognized one of the fighters as a regular. He supposed that there was probably quite a bit of money bet on the fight from the cheering and anger in the voices of the spectators. The regular seemed to have either a lot of small cuts on his scarred up face or a few cuts that were bleeding more than most of the cuts he’d seen. It looked that lots of money was put on the regular and he was losing the fight. The newcomer attempted to throw a punch at the regular with his right hand, an aggressive right hook aimed at his opponent’s throat. The punch, while decently thrown, was thrown with anger not precision and was easily slipped by the veteran of the ring who proceeded to grab the arm and twist it downward. The rookie was put into a powerless position, arm about to break and unable to see anything but his opponents feet. An unfortunate thing to see as a knee quickly entered his vision and shot up into his face, with a devastating crack the nose of the rookie sending a massive spurt of blood spilling all over the dirt floor of the arena. It was an impressive strike that got an impressive row from the crowd as many people realized that they would not be losing their money today.
The strike made Dieter wince at the imagined pain that the man must have felt. The fight was almost over, the veteran of Blood Sport was convinced that he had won the fight and let off on the defeated opponent who dropped to the floor gripping his now almost sideways nose. The wounded man had not given up however and launched a surprising punch at the back of his opponent’s head. It missed horribly and made the man look more pathetic than anything else. He had been unable to land a punch on a person that had been facing the opposite direction and totally unprepared for a strike. The man with the freshly broken nose slumped to the ground again, unconscious. A handful of small brawls broke out in the stands between drunk and angry spectators. The different guards nearby quickly ran in to break the fights up, Dieter was one of those guards.
But more entertaining than any of these things are the fights, people pitted one against the other in fair hand to hand combat. These fights had always intrigued Dieter even though he was less of a styled fighter and more of the person that finds anything in the environment and takes advantage of it. He had almost all of his combat training in bar fights and a small amount from his father, but his father focused more on sword fighting than the hand to hand combat. Sword fighting was more proper, more appropriate for a child hoping to be a squire. Being a squire was never Dieters dream, it was his fathers; his father wanted Dieter to try and be a squire, for Dieter to have a better life than the one his father had.
Dieter was caught up in thought and hadn’t been paying attention to the place around him as he wandered over to the cage. There was an intense contest going on at the time, and Dieter recognized one of the fighters as a regular. He supposed that there was probably quite a bit of money bet on the fight from the cheering and anger in the voices of the spectators. The regular seemed to have either a lot of small cuts on his scarred up face or a few cuts that were bleeding more than most of the cuts he’d seen. It looked that lots of money was put on the regular and he was losing the fight. The newcomer attempted to throw a punch at the regular with his right hand, an aggressive right hook aimed at his opponent’s throat. The punch, while decently thrown, was thrown with anger not precision and was easily slipped by the veteran of the ring who proceeded to grab the arm and twist it downward. The rookie was put into a powerless position, arm about to break and unable to see anything but his opponents feet. An unfortunate thing to see as a knee quickly entered his vision and shot up into his face, with a devastating crack the nose of the rookie sending a massive spurt of blood spilling all over the dirt floor of the arena. It was an impressive strike that got an impressive row from the crowd as many people realized that they would not be losing their money today.
The strike made Dieter wince at the imagined pain that the man must have felt. The fight was almost over, the veteran of Blood Sport was convinced that he had won the fight and let off on the defeated opponent who dropped to the floor gripping his now almost sideways nose. The wounded man had not given up however and launched a surprising punch at the back of his opponent’s head. It missed horribly and made the man look more pathetic than anything else. He had been unable to land a punch on a person that had been facing the opposite direction and totally unprepared for a strike. The man with the freshly broken nose slumped to the ground again, unconscious. A handful of small brawls broke out in the stands between drunk and angry spectators. The different guards nearby quickly ran in to break the fights up, Dieter was one of those guards.
