I have collaborated a couple of times with a writer friend of mine to write drafts of fight scenes for his stories. In both cases, he gave me the situation and I wrote a fight. These are scenes from two unrelated stories. Enjoy:
Scene 1
Bridget stood with her back to the rubble and surveyed the arena. William stood above her, and god was he huge! He was just out of reach of her lunge, but he would have trouble reaching her at all. She could strike straight out at his legs, but he would have to strike down to touch her anywhere, eliminating his reach advantage and limiting his attacks to her high line. It was true that any blow he landed would be to her head, but you take what you can get. It is true when they say geometry is the life and death of a fencer. She just had to keep him above her.
She drew her sword and dagger, and took a guard with the dagger high as William roared and charged.
She parried with the dagger and cut at his feet quickly and from the wrist, but he avoided the cut with an unlikely kick of his foot, and she found herself parrying his follow up attack with her sword while threatening to gut him with her dagger. He avoided the dagger with a rather liquid twist of the body and danced back, and she realized that with no room to retreat, she would have to be very wary of getting into any sort of grapple with such a monster. His size would leave little chance for success.
Meanwhile, a similar analysis was running through William's head. He realized the he could not over reach her as long as she was below him on the steps, and his legs were in danger. Should she cut him there his one advantage, mobility, would be reduced, and any attempt to grapple would earn him a dagger in the guts.
William retreated a bit to give himself time to think.
Bridget saw William retreat, and followed to give herself room to control the measure should he charge again. This gave William an idea. He retreated further up the stairs until they were even with one of the archways clogged with people.
The crowd was yelling "Kill her!" at William, and some tried to reach out to grab Bridget as the two fencers' blades probed for openings. William scowled at the crowd, "Anyone who touches her dies!" At that moment the crowd at the archway stepped back just an inch, and William charged down at Bridget.
Bridget parried furiously and stepped off line to the newly opened space near the archway, and silently cursed as William passed. Her reflexes had betrayed her. In any other fight, circling as she had would have been proper, but William had counted on it. As he ran past, she saw that he was now below, and he had the reach advantage, and she would have to lean down to hit him.
William now started to use her own strategy against her and she found herself retreating up the stairs to prevent her legs from being laid open. She found herself parrying with her sword and using her dagger for little as she was pressed back. Eventually she would miss a parry and Williams’s strength would end the fight.
Fatigue was taking its toll, and a couple of William’s blows grazed her skirt, but did not penetrate. William saw this and started to move in.
He was not a skilled fencer, and the instinct to grab and twist started to overcome the desire to use the length of the sword. This is true of all swordsmen in their training; one of the first lessons is to fight from the proper distance. Williams’s lack of training betrayed him.
He raised his sword over his head like an axe and charged. As he rushed up the stairs, Bridget thrust at his belly with the dagger when he got close. Instinctively, he grabbed at the dagger, and Bridget tossed it up at his face, and said "Take it," before she cartwheeled past him and he wasted a second trying to comprehend why he was suddenly holding a dagger wrong way round.
Bridget was, once again, below him, and she spun and swiped at his legs. As William tried to get situated, she scored several shallow touches to his legs. They would have crippled anyone else, but William’s feline agility prevented her from being able to sink her point in on any of them. His ankles were turning red, and she supposed it was a moral victory, but the fight was far from over. Something had to happen soon.
Suddenly, BOOM!
Scene 2
Ulysses looked at Ronald as he climbed into the small boat. The boat rocked significantly as Ronald climbed in. Ronald was wearing a rapier at his belt, a weapon that would be useless with such poor footing and at such a close range, but Ulysses was unarmed, so perhaps Ronald did not feel threatened.
Sensing his opportunity just as Ronald started to sit on the plank that served for a seat in such small boats, Ulysses sprung upon him, seizing a handful of hair in one hand and punching him in the face, over and over, with the other.
Ronald fell over backward to avoid the assault and managed to get his elbow under him to keep from being pinned to the floor as Ulysses drove his knee into his belly to keep him from moving. He reached back for the knives he kept hidden at the back of his belt, and drew one quickly and slashed at Ulysses’ face.
Ulysses jumped back enough to avoid the cut and set the boat tipping violently. As Ronald staggered because of the movement, Ulysses saw the rapier sheath hanging behind and grabbed it. Using it as a lever, he managed to turn Ronald somewhat away so that he could not effectively stab.
Due to the pitching of the small craft, both men lost their footing, and scrambled away from each other. Ulysses had lost the advantage of surprise, and Ronald drew his other knife and started to advance across the seats towards Ulysses.
Ulysses looked about for something that would give him back his edge and grabbed an oar. He swung it violently at Ronald’s head, causing him to duck and stumble, and then, taking one end in each hand and holding it across his chest, he climbed back to his feet and charged as well as he could, which resembled an aggressive stumble more than a charge. Nonetheless, the oar caught Ronald across the chest and pinned his arms while causing him to fall back, hitting his back on the gunwale and dropping his knives.
Ulysses grabbed Ronald’s ridiculous rapier sheath again and used it to turn him over. Ronald tried to resist, but the leverage of the blade stuck to his belt was such that Ulysses, using the sheath, his knees, and a few well-placed punches, was able to turn Ronald over.
He leaped on Ronald’s back and took two full hands of hair and shoved Ronald’s face into the water, driving his hips forward so that Ronald could not get his arms or legs under himself to resist. As Ronald held his breath, his chest became tighter and tighter from his exertions. He found the only direction he could move was the direction Ulysses was driving him, forward and down. He managed to slowly crawl forward, deeper into the water, and felt the pressure lessen as the boat tipped.
Ulysses realized what was happening and tried to pull Ronald back into the boat, but it was too late, and as he jerked violently on Ronald’s hair, the boat capsized and they were both plunged into the cold water.
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