Thread: Urban Fantasy Fight Scene

I haven't been around the forums in a while, I've been quite busy with work and whatnot, but since I have a windows phone with built in Microsoft Office, I've been able to go through my story and do some major revisions where they were needed. I'm still far from finished the actual story, but this fight as evolved FAR from the old fight with the Minotaur seen in the link below: now he isn't even fighting a Minotaur. He's fighting something I somewhat made up. Cainites are the descendants of Cain(from the bible) who live in Nod, a world parallel to Earth(or Eden). You can see that the scene starts, and ends on the same general line, but everything in-between is COMPLETELY different.

http://www.writingforums.com/fantasy-sci-fi-horror/119799-fight-scene-language.html

It's considerably longer than it was before, but I hope you'll enjoy. It's much improved.
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I started heading for the door again, walking past Bruce, and he followed. "You know, my magic doesn't always fail. I'm cursed. My spell failure is 100% completely random. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don't. Sometimes what I want to happen, happens, sometimes something totally out of the blue occurs, and of course, like last night sometimes both happens.

I opened the door and let Bruce walk out first. "This might be one of those times." He said, panic creeping into his voice. I didn't quite catch the tone of his voice, and his words didn't quite click until I saw what he saw. Upon stepping out of my house I was blinded by the morning sun shining in my eyes as it rose over the neighbors house from across the street. I shielded my eyes with my hand and, at first, didn't believe the size of the hooded figure standing on my front lawn, but after the ordeal last night, I came to acceptance pretty quickly.

The man standing on my front lawn was easily eight feet tall with the bulk of a professional bodybuilder. His eyes were glowing red under the hood, which I immediately took as a sign that this guy meant business. Yet the thing that caught my attention the most was the giant battleaxe in his left hand. He looked to be having absolutely no problem wielding it with one hand.

The man pushed his hood off his head with his free hand, giving me a better view of his face, and terrifying me further. The man underneath the hood had grey skin. Grey like Roswell alien grey. To each side of his head he had a curled black horns, and he was sporting a sinister looking white goatee.
He tilted his head slightly to the side and asked, "Richard Darius Warren?"

Wondering how this beast of a man knew my whole name, I cautiously responded, "Yes, that's me."

"Draw your weapon. I have come to collect the bounty on your head and my honor demands it to be a fair duel."

"There's a bounty on my head!?" I panicked.

"What Canite did you piss off to have them send Muth after you?"

"Muth? What's a Muth?"

"He is Muth," Bruce answered, pointing at the stranger on my lawn. "Only the most feared bounty hunter in all of Nod. I haven't heard word of him stepping foot on this side of the veil for several hundred years."

I looked at Muth, "Man, you don't come round these parts often, do you?"

"It has been four hundred and seventy-one years since I last stepped foot on Eden," came Muth's annoyed response. "Do you have a weapon or do I need to provide one?"

"Um..." I mumbled scratching the back of my head.

"No matter. What is your weapon of choice? I shall create one for you."

I took another look at his battleaxe. The thing could easily cleave me in two. "A gun would be nice."

"Excuse me?" the beast asked.

"A gun. You know... Bang bang." I said making a shooting motion with my thumb and index finger. When he still didn't understand I said, "Pistol? Firearm? No? Musket?"

Finally, recognition, "A musket? Why would you want to use such a crude, ineffective form of weaponry?"

I grinned at him, "It's the only type of weapon I'm trained in, and besides, muskets have evolved a long way from when you last stepped foot on this side of the veil."

A bulge appeared in the grass in front of me and formed into three distinct objects: an old-timey musket, and two leather pouches.

"I have not seen one of these new muskets, so you will have to deal with what I know how to create." He raised his axe in a battle-ready stance. "Since you are obviously not trained in any fighting styles, and you are staring at that musket like it's a Zerian Slime beast, I shall let you make the first move in the duel before I kill you."

"Thanks for that," I mumbled as I bent down and picked up my supplies, shaking my head at what I had to work with. It was a freaking matchlock rifle of all things, he hadn't even had the decency to provide me with a flintlock rifle.

"Bruce, be a dear would you and run inside to the hutch in the dining room. There's a lighter in the top left drawer."

"Sure," he said, and ran back inside. I hoped to God I could figure out how to do this or I'd be on my way to meet him real soon. I'd only ever seen these things used in movies like The Patriot and Last of the Mohicans. The first pouch contained my gunpowder. Scratching my chin, I looked for the little hatch on the top of the gun. Once found, I opened it and poured some gunpowder in. I had no idea as to the proper amount. The second pouch had five metal balls. I hoped it wouldn't take more than five shots to kill him, then again with this reload speed I hoped I could kill him in one. I put a pellet in the end of the gun, detached the ramrod, and jammed the pellet down as far as I could. Bruce returned with my lighter which I used to set the end of the rope on fire and locked it into position.

Muth looked at me amused, "You see why I was questioning your use of such a weapon?"

"I told you, modern guns are far more efficient."

"Shall we get started?" he beckoned.

"Yeah, yeah." I grumbled.

I lifted the extremely heavy gun, aimed it at the tall grey man, and fired. I was so not prepared for the kickback. I was knocked back from the force of the gun firing and lost my balance. I hit my head on the stone steps behind me so hard that I saw stars. I knew it was important for me to find out if I hit him, so I gently tried to sit up, only to see an axe swinging at my head. I let out a little girlish yelp and rolled to the side. The axe smashed into my front porch sending concrete chunks flying from where my head used to be. As I scrambled away, I awkwardly stumbled upright.

Muth charged at me again after dislodging his ax from the porch. I don't know how, but I managed to dodge out of the way and backed up toward the road, pleading, "Hey now, my weapon's over there. I'm unarmed again."

"A true warrior never would never let his weapon out of his grip in battle." He took another swing at me. I tried to dodge again, but he clipped my left shoulder. I cried out in pain, though it was really nothing more than a scratch, and charged him. Call it berserker fury if you will, but the guy was not expecting it. I tackled that motherlover and began beating him repeatedly in the face with my fists.

He kneeled me in the family jewels, which was a really jerkish move of him, and pushed me off while I clenched in pain. I stood shakily and backed up toward the porch. Muth spit a lot of blood onto the lawn, it was red, which was good to know I supposed.

"Why aren't you helping!" I said through clenched teeth, but Bruce just scratched the back of his head as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"I think you've got it pretty well handled," he replied, "I wouldn't want to make matters worse by using magic."

I picked up the musket again and put more powder in just in time for Muth to charge again. I jumped back into the house, to which Bruce had left the door wide open, and slammed the door shut on his face. Muth's axe splintered into the wood of my front door, one more expense I was not looking forward to, but gave me the precious time I needed to reach into the other pouch, grab a pellet, and jam it in the end of the gun. I had just detached the ramrod when he kicked my door clean off its hinges, sending it flying halfway up the stairs to my second floor. Seething with rage, Muth raised is axe. I twirled to the side and flicked the ramrod at him using the centrifugal force for extra power and nailed him right in the eye. He lowered his axe and rubbed at the spot while I backed up and gave myself some more distance. I stood in the hallway by my bedroom while I jammed the pellet down the barrel. Myth calmly walked up toward me, anger in his eyes. I was unsure of what he intended to do, since his weapon was still lowered, so I put the ramrod back into place and aimed the gun at him. He smirked, slid the ramrod back out from its holder and snapped it in two.

"Hey..." I whined.

"I only meant to give you one weapon," he snarled.

He hoisted his axe again, so I pulled the trigger. All I got was a click. A panicked glance told me that the rope was missing. Where the hell did it go? I thought frantically as Muth once again swung his axe at me, this time in a horizontal arc. I'm proud to say I pulled off some serious Matrix moves. Time seemed to slow: maybe it was my battle instincts kicking in, or maybe it was just that extra shot of adrenaline, but I slid under that axe blade like it was a freaking limbo stick. I slid between Muth's legs and quickly got to my feet on the other side. Muth was already swinging at me again by the time I turned to face him, so I flipped the gun around, dodged to the right, and smacked him on the side of the head with the butt of the rifle. It took him a moment to shake that off, but I was already scrambling for the front entrance. Searing pain tore through my Achilles heel and I fell to the ground, unable to support my weight. I rolled over and tried to back up, but he swung his axe down again, and this time I was unable to avoid it. It nailed me right in the left shoulder, pinning me to the floor. The pain was excruciating. I didn't want to struggle against it for fear of losing my arm, if I hadn't lost it already.

Myth smiled down on me, "It is over. A valient attempt Sir Warren, but it was not enough."

I defiantly raised the musket with my good arm and pointed the barrel under his chin. He simply laughed. "What do you expect to do with that fools weapon? You have no more fire."

Jacob, I cried, I don't know where you been buddy, but now'd be a good time to help out!

And just like that, an arc of lightning leapt from my arm to the gun. BLAM! Brain goo everywhere. I was sooo not cleaning this up.

Muth's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped over, but his axe was still lodged in my shoulder.
"Bruce!" I screamed as loud as I could, but honestly, it came out a bit raspy.

Bruce poked his head in the door. "Ooh, that looks right nasty that does."

"GET IT OUT!" I yelled at him. Bruce shrugged and made a couple good tugs on the axe. "It's lodged in there pretty good," he commented.

Jacob materialized next to Bruce, causing him to jump.

"You couldn't have helped me sooner?"

"I am sorry. I had to be sure you were in mortal danger before I intervened." Jacob replied. He walked over to me and said, "Here, let me see that."

Jacob's avatar simply reached down and grabbed the axe as if he were actually corporeal, ripped it out of the floor, and tossed it aside.

"How..."

"Magnetism. The axe is mostly steel." He looked at the wound concerned, "Let me see to that."

"Hey now! I know you can do some amazing stuff, but electricity can not cure wounds."

"No, it can't, but holy magic can. You're forgetting I'm an angel."

Originally Posted by Razzazzika

I started heading for the door again, walking past Bruce, and he followed. "You know, my magic doesn't always fail. I'm cursed. My spell failure is 100% completely random. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don't. Sometimes what I want to happen, happens, sometimes something totally out of the blue occurs, and of course, like last night sometimes both happens.

I opened the door and let Bruce walk out first. "This might be one of those times." He said, panic creeping into his voice. I didn't quite catch the tone of his voice, and his words didn't quite click until I saw what he saw. Upon stepping out of my house I was blinded by the morning sun shining in my eyes as it rose over the neighbors house from across the street. I shielded my eyes with my hand and, at first, didn't believe the size of the hooded figure standing on my front lawn, but after the ordeal last night, I came to acceptance pretty quickly.

The man standing on my front lawn was easily eight feet tall with the bulk of a professional bodybuilder. His eyes were glowing red under the hood, which I immediately took as a sign that this guy meant business. Yet the thing that caught my attention the most was the giant battleaxe in his left hand. He looked to be having absolutely no problem wielding it with one hand.

The man pushed his hood off his head with his free hand, giving me a better view of his face, and terrifying me further. The man underneath the hood had grey skin. Grey like Roswell alien grey. To each side of his head he had a curled black horns, and he was sporting a sinister looking white goatee.
He tilted his head slightly to the side and asked, "Richard Darius Warren?"

Wondering how this beast of a man knew my whole name, I cautiously responded, "Yes, that's me."

"Draw your weapon. I have come to collect the bounty on your head and my honor demands it to be a fair duel."

"There's a bounty on my head!?" I panicked.

"What Canite did you piss off to have them send Muth after you?" (Though I knew who said this, perhaps it might be better to indicate that it was Bruce who spoke?)

"Muth? What's a Muth?"

"He is Muth," Bruce answered, pointing at the stranger on my lawn. "Only the most feared bounty hunter in all of Nod. I haven't heard word of him stepping foot on this side of the veil for several hundred years."

I looked at Muth, "Man, you don't come round these parts often, do you?"

"It has been four hundred and seventy-one years since I last stepped foot on Eden," came Muth's annoyed response. "Do you have a weapon or do I need to provide one?"

"Um..." I mumbled scratching the back of my head.

"No matter. What is your weapon of choice? I shall create one for you."

I took another look at his battleaxe. The thing could easily cleave me in two. -(Here, and this one instance among a few others, you seem to switch to present tense. Instances like these could easily work if the character spoke these thoughts aloud) "A gun would be nice."

"Excuse me?" the beast asked.

"A gun. You know... Bang bang." I said making a shooting motion with my thumb and index finger. When he still didn't understand I said, "Pistol? Firearm? No? Musket?"

Finally, recognition, "A musket? Why would you want to use such a crude, ineffective form of weaponry?"

I grinned at him, "It's the only type of weapon I'm trained in, and besides, muskets have evolved a long way from when you last stepped foot on this side of the veil."

A bulge appeared in the grass in front of me and formed into three distinct objects: an old-timey musket, and two leather pouches.

"I have not seen one of these new muskets, so you will have to deal with what I know how to create." He raised his axe in a battle-ready stance. "Since you are obviously not trained in any fighting styles, and you are staring at that musket like it's a Zerian Slime beast, I shall let you make the first move in the duel before I kill you."

"Thanks for that," I mumbled as I bent down and picked up my supplies, shaking my head at what I had to work with. It was a freaking matchlock rifle of all things, he hadn't even had the decency to provide me with a flintlock rifle.

"Bruce, be a dear would you and run inside to the hutch in the dining room. There's a lighter in the top left drawer."

"Sure," he said, and ran back inside. I hoped to God I could figure out how to do this or I'd be on my way to meet him real soon. I'd only ever seen these things used in movies like The Patriot and Last of the Mohicans. (Should these movies be italicized?)The first pouch contained my gunpowder. Scratching my chin, I looked for the little hatch on the top of the gun. Once found, I opened it and poured some gunpowder in. I had no idea as to the proper amount. The second pouch had five metal balls. I hoped it wouldn't take more than five shots to kill him, then again with this reload speed I hoped I could kill him in one. I put a pellet in the end of the gun, detached the ramrod, and jammed the pellet down as far as I could. Bruce returned with my lighter which I used to set the end of the rope on fire and locked it into position.

Muth looked at me amused, "You see why I was questioning your use of such a weapon?"

"I told you, modern guns are far more efficient."

"Shall we get started?" he beckoned.

"Yeah, yeah." I grumbled.

I lifted the extremely heavy gun, (I was unaware that matchlock rifles were so heavy, though I know nothing of them.) aimed it at the tall grey man, and fired. I was so not prepared for the kickback. I was knocked back from the force of the gun firing and lost my balance. I hit my head on the stone steps behind me so hard that I saw stars. I knew it was important for me to find out if I hit him, so I gently tried to sit up, only to see an axe swinging at my head. I let out a little girlish yelp and rolled to the side. The axe smashed into my front porch sending concrete chunks flying from where my head used to be. As I scrambled away, I awkwardly stumbled upright.

Muth charged at me again after dislodging his ax from the porch. I don't know how, but I managed to dodge out of the way and backed up toward the road, pleading, "Hey now, my weapon's over there. I'm unarmed again." (Perhaps it is because I don't know much about the story as I seem to have come in somewhere later, but what are his neighbors doing during all of this?)

"A true warrior never would never let his weapon out of his grip in battle." He took another swing at me. I tried to dodge again, but he clipped my left shoulder. I cried out in pain, though it was really nothing more than a scratch, (I think using "grazed" would work better here instead of "clipped." As clipped would imply that there was more contact than his wound indicated.)and charged him. Call it berserker fury if you will, but the guy was not expecting it. I tackled that motherlover and began beating him repeatedly in the face with my fists.

He kneeled (Kneed) me in the family jewels, which was a really jerkish move of him, and pushed me off while I clenched in pain. I stood shakily and backed up toward the porch. Muth spit a lot of blood onto the lawn, it was red, which was good to know I supposed.

"Why aren't you helping!" I said through clenched teeth, but Bruce just scratched the back of his head as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"I think you've got it pretty well handled," he replied, "I wouldn't want to make matters worse by using magic."

I picked up the musket again and put more powder in just in time for Muth to charge again. I jumped back into the house, to which Bruce had left the door wide open, and slammed the door shut on his face. Muth's axe splintered into the wood of my front door, one more expense I was not looking forward to, but gave me the precious time I needed to reach into the other pouch, grab a pellet, and jam it in the end of the gun. I had just detached the ramrod when he kicked my door clean off its hinges, sending it flying halfway up the stairs to my second floor. Seething with rage, Muth raised is axe. I twirled to the side and flicked the ramrod at him using the centrifugal force for extra power and nailed him right in the eye. He lowered his axe and rubbed at the spot while I backed up and gave myself some more distance. I stood in the hallway by my bedroom while I jammed the pellet down the barrel. Myth (Muth) calmly walked up toward me, anger in his eyes. I was unsure of what he intended to do, since his weapon was still lowered, so I put the ramrod back into place and aimed the gun at him. He smirked, slid the ramrod back out from its holder and snapped it in two.

"Hey..." I whined.

"I only meant to give you one weapon," he snarled.

He hoisted his axe again, so I pulled the trigger. All I got was a click. A panicked glance told me that the rope was missing. Where the hell did it go? I thought frantically as Muth once again swung his axe at me, this time in a horizontal arc. I'm proud to say I pulled off some serious Matrix moves. Time seemed to slow: (No need for a colon here) maybe it was my battle instincts kicking in, or maybe it was just that extra shot of adrenaline, but I slid under that axe blade like it was a freaking limbo stick. I slid between Muth's legs and quickly got to my feet on the other side. Muth was already swinging at me again by the time I turned to face him, so I flipped the gun around, dodged to the right, and smacked him on the side of the head with the butt of the rifle. It took him a moment to shake that off, but I was already scrambling for the front entrance. Searing pain tore through my Achilles heel and I fell to the ground, unable to support my weight. I rolled over and tried to back up, but he swung his axe down again, and this time I was unable to avoid it. It nailed me right in the left shoulder, pinning me to the floor. The pain was excruciating. I didn't want to struggle against it for fear of losing my arm, if I hadn't lost it already.

Myth smiled down on me, "It is over. A valient attempt Sir Warren, but it was not enough."

I defiantly raised the musket with my good arm and pointed the barrel under his chin. He simply laughed. "What do you expect to do with that fools weapon? You have no more fire."

Jacob, I cried, I don't know where you been buddy, but now'd be a good time to help out!

And just like that, an arc of lightning leapt from my arm to the gun. BLAM! Brain goo everywhere. I was sooo not cleaning this up.

Muth's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped over, but his axe was still lodged in my shoulder.
"Bruce!" I screamed as loud as I could, but honestly, it came out a bit raspy.

Bruce poked his head in the door. "Ooh, that looks right nasty that does."

"GET IT OUT!" I yelled at him. Bruce shrugged and made a couple good tugs on the axe. "It's lodged in there pretty good," he commented.

Jacob materialized next to Bruce, causing him to jump.

"You couldn't have helped me sooner?"

"I am sorry. I had to be sure you were in mortal danger before I intervened." Jacob replied. He walked over to me and said, "Here, let me see that."

Jacob's avatar simply reached down and grabbed the axe as if he were actually corporeal, ripped it out of the floor, and tossed it aside.

"How..."

"Magnetism. The axe is mostly steel." He looked at the wound concerned, "Let me see to that."

"Hey now! I know you can do some amazing stuff, but electricity can not cure wounds."

"No, it can't, but holy magic can. You're forgetting I'm an angel."

I enjoyed this, though there are a few things that stood out to me. The first of them being that you tend to switch in-between the present and past tense, as I mentioned above, and this can be rather confusing. You character's flair works quite well, his voice was strong throughout, but I do feel as though some of his thoughts would add more to the story if you worked them into the text so as to be spoken aloud. Also, the relationship between the main character and Bruce seems a bit odd to me. Are they really friends or merely acquaintances? It seems strange to me that a friend would watch another get nearly killed and refuse (at his friends behest) to intervene. Unless, of course, Bruce's magic really IS that terrible and the doesn't want to do more damage (though I still think he would lend a helping hand, but this is coming from someone who doesn't know the back story of either character). Aside from the things that I mentioned, this works for me. The pacing is good, the action is certainly entertaining and your character's voice is strong and he has flair.

Originally Posted by Philosophocles

I enjoyed this, though there are a few things that stood out to me. The first of them being that you tend to switch in-between the present and past tense, as I mentioned above, and this can be rather confusing. You character's flair works quite well, his voice was strong throughout, but I do feel as though some of his thoughts would add more to the story if you worked them into the text so as to be spoken aloud. Also, the relationship between the main character and Bruce seems a bit odd to me. Are they really friends or merely acquaintances? It seems strange to me that a friend would watch another get nearly killed and refuse (at his friends behest) to intervene. Unless, of course, Bruce's magic really IS that terrible and the doesn't want to do more damage (though I still think he would lend a helping hand, but this is coming from someone who doesn't know the back story of either character). Aside from the things that I mentioned, this works for me. The pacing is good, the action is certainly entertaining and your character's voice is strong and he has flair.

Thank you for taking the time to go through it. I will consider your suggestions and look over the chapter again.

Originally Posted by Philosophocles

(I was unaware that matchlock rifles were so heavy, though I know nothing of them.)

Frankly, I'm not sure on that one. I was trying to do as much research as I could and most pictures I saw, musketeers were using some sort of stick for support to aim the gun, so I assumed it was top heavy and hard to aim.
EDIT: just looked it up, yeah they were about 20 pounds, so... that's pretty heavy for a long gun like that. That's why they needed a rest to aim.
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Because of the location of the snippet however, there were some things that you weren't quite aware of.

Originally Posted by Philosophocles

(I was unaware that matchlock rifles were so heavy, though I know nothing of them.)

that one however, is a good question. Calling the cops probably. I'll have to address that later in the story probably, but not immediately

Originally Posted by Philosophocles

Also, the relationship between the main character and Bruce seems a bit odd to me. Are they really friends or merely acquaintances? It seems strange to me that a friend would watch another get nearly killed and refuse (at his friends behest) to intervene. Unless, of course, Bruce's magic really IS that terrible and the doesn't want to do more damage (though I still think he would lend a helping hand, but this is coming from someone who doesn't know the back story of either character)

See, that's complex in two ways. First, he just met Bruce in the previous chapter, the previous night. Bruce just followed him home like a sick puppy because Richard was the first person in 3 years to be able to see him. Bruce's magic is sporadic at best. I built the character idea off of my D&D wild mage, who would have the most random things happen EVERY TIME he tried to cast a spell. So Bruce was cursed a long time ago with infinite power, but every time he goes to use it, there's a good chance something's gonna fuck up. And the more powerful the spell the more random the thing is that happens. In the previous chapter he turned Richards microwave into a Gremlin because he couldn't figure out how to work it, so he just popped the popcorn with his magic. If that happens with something LITTLE, you can see how he's reluctant to use battle magic. 3 years ago the entire world forgot his existence because he was hungry and conjured himself a burrito. (He also has a very high metabolic rate BECAUSE of his powers, thus all the food issues, which gets him into more problems)

Ah, that explains it. Obviously, I wouldn't know that based on this chapter alone, but that makes Bruce sound like a very interesting character. Will his powers ever be of use to him?

Oh yeah. He will definately be useful He is ALL-powerful after all. It's just when you make an all powerful character, you have to make a VERY GLARING weakness, to make them not be able to use said power all the time. To quote the genie from aladdin,
PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER.
Itty bitty living space.
The genie had all the power in the world, but could only use it to serve others, and three times per person before being forced back into the lamp until another found it.
Bruce has all this power, he's just afraid to use it most of the time, but when he does, there is a shitstorm, and the world feels its repercussions. In fact, I've thought about the plots for up to 5 books, the 4th of which is where a spell Bruce casts actually tears apart the fabric of reality. Sure, it undoes the forgetfulness spell, but the world is then on the brink of destruction, and he's the only one who can save it.

That's a really interesting way to use a character with his kind of ability. The reference to Aladdin made me laugh. Very nice.

Two logistical questions:

1 If Muth is that much taller (2 feet taller?) than the main character, would he be able to knee him in the jewels?

2 If Muth has been shot in the eye, wouldn't the main character see anger only in his remaining eye? Also, later in the fight that same eye would roll into the back of his head? (I assume the other eye is missing …?)

Basicly everything needed to be said has been said, so as far as criticing there is no point, but as far as boosting your pride i shall It was interesting, something i would like to read more of, i myself and a fanatic when i write fight/battle scenes and you did a very good job of it. keep it up.

Good action scene. I'd say the story is also pretty consistent. But if I had to say anything about it, it would be how easily this famous bounty hunter was handled. Maybe I don't get enough backstory, but the person being attacked seemed like a normal kid. Still he was dodging multiple attacks, and even striking back. In the end he still got nailed, and for that i'm grateful. I'm probably just nit-picking here, or missing something, I just thought that someone with such a an extra-ordinary title with legend and time behind them, wouldn't be chumped so easily. From the sounds of everything going on so far, I'm guessing this is going to be an epic. Not a bad start, the rest sounds solid.

Curious piece you've written...it doesn't have an extremly serious feel...and it lacks motivation. How did the lightning come to be? The characters are not described or the setting, but not everyone can be serious all the time. Add more detail to the motion of the battle...add in small details to help 'get us involved'

Holy.... four people posted in this thread in oct/nov. I lost my job in mid oct and have been trying desperately to get a new one ever since, been mostly forgetting about the writing. Went to two interviews the past week, and am waiting for decisions on them. In the meantime, there's a holiday lull that allowed me to sit back and think about working on my story again, and in turn, I came back to the site and noticed four people had posted in this thread. Sorry for the late responses, but I shall respond to each question in turn.

Originally Posted by patskywriter

Two logistical questions:

1 If Muth is that much taller (2 feet taller?) than the main character, would he be able to knee him in the jewels?

2 If Muth has been shot in the eye, wouldn't the main character see anger only in his remaining eye? Also, later in the fight that same eye would roll into the back of his head? (I assume the other eye is missing …?)

both are really good questions. as to the first, you're probably right. I (painstakingly) watched a whole bunch of YouTube videos of people being kneed in the balls, and every time it seemed to be from someone shorter, or of the same height.
As to the second, he wasn't SHOT in the eye. He jabbed him with the ramrod of the gun. While that indeed would hurt, and if done with enough force on a normal person could cause blindness, Muth treated it as more of an annoyance. It stung him, sure, but he rubbed the pain away and got over it, then snapped the ramrod in two.

Originally Posted by Deyo

Good action scene. I'd say the story is also pretty consistent. But if I had to say anything about it, it would be how easily this famous bounty hunter was handled. Maybe I don't get enough backstory, but the person being attacked seemed like a normal kid. Still he was dodging multiple attacks, and even striking back. In the end he still got nailed, and for that i'm grateful. I'm probably just nit-picking here, or missing something, I just thought that someone with such a an extra-ordinary title with legend and time behind them, wouldn't be chumped so easily. From the sounds of everything going on so far, I'm guessing this is going to be an epic. Not a bad start, the rest sounds solid.

He's not a kid, he's actually in his 30's, but I didn't think that he bested him 'easily'. Muth was more toying with him. He SEVERELY underestimated Richard, and will NOT make the same mistake in their next encounter ^_^. (Yes, a gun to the head, brain go splatter, did NOT kill Muth)

Originally Posted by ravag3

Curious piece you've written...it doesn't have an extremly serious feel...and it lacks motivation. How did the lightning come to be? The characters are not described or the setting, but not everyone can be serious all the time. Add more detail to the motion of the battle...add in small details to help 'get us involved'

I did start in the middle of the chapter sure, but I think you can gather from bits and pieces that the scene of the battle is Richard's front lawn, and the battle moves then into the house itself.
As for the 'seriousness', I move from serious to not serious, but overall yes, the book has a very lighthearted feel.
The lightning was explained earlier in the book. He has... people living in his head, like split personality disorder/schizophrenia. Except they can cast magic. So, he basically asked the person living in his head to cast his lightning magic to fire the gun. Basically...

Just one thing about punctuation in dialogue:

"This might be one of those times." He said...

The full-stop should be a comma, thus: "This might be one of those times," he said...

else the 'He said' is part of the next sentence.

Actually on a small hiatus from the main story. I got in the Christmas spirit, and decided to put to paper a short story that I thought up last year. It actually takes place in this universe, but between books 2 and 3, so it's a bit tricky trying to not write too many spoilers, yet explain the current situation, considering I haven't technically written that yet. I know exactly what I want to happen in the first two books like the back of my hand though, so I can safely write this without screwing anything up.

Anyway... I have a good story in my mind, I want to post the whole short story here when I'm done with it, but considering I just started it an hour ago I figured I'd show what I've got so far.

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The chill December air bit into me as I walked through Central Park. I found myself taking these walks more and more ever since my daughter Laila and I moved into our new apartment on 56^th street. Laila was still in school for the day, probably sitting in class, eagerly awaiting her upcoming winter break next week.

A heavy snow had fallen two nights before and the city was still working to clean up the streets and sidewalks. The walkways that wound through the park had been shoveled quite well, and salt crunched beneath my boots with every step. The fact that the path was coated in a crunchy material made it easier to detect Jennie’s approach. The second set of footsteps crunching alongside me seemingly came out of nowhere, and in all honesty, they probably did.

“I hate winter,” Jennie complained.

I looked to my right at the physical manifestation of what I used to consider my alternate personality. What walked beside me appeared to be a beautiful, young teenage girl with long brown hair. Today she wore jeans, a blue parka, and a matching ski cap with ear flaps and fuzzy pom poms dangling off the sides by strings. No one would guess that this young woman walking beside me was actually an eons old goddess of life, motherhood, and fertility. I still have no idea how she got trapped inside my head.

Okay, so nowadays it’s more like she’s ‘tethered’ to me, ever since she figured out how to manifest herself outside my body using her magic. She can fully interact with the outside world, which is how I know I’m not completely insane, but as soon as she gets more than the length of a football field away she snaps back like a rubber band, giving me a massive migraine and draining her power immensely.

“Come on!” I said, trying to lighten her mood. “Winter’s great! The days following a snowstorm are absolutely wonderful. You have the snow hanging off all the trees and the ground is nothing but white as far as the eye can see.” I said, panning my arms in front of me as if to take a picture of the scenery.

“Bah!” she replied. “In the winter, everything green is dead.”