Chapter 3 - 2

The man didn’t hesitate a second after asking the question, and swung the blade at Fierce’s chest. Fierce leapt back, knocking over a pile of crates before drawing his own broadsword. He nervously looked above him, noting that he couldn’t jump into open space within getting entangled in the cords and wires crisscrossing the alley. He raised his sword to block the next few attacks, trying to squeeze backwards against the blows.

The man’s attacks didn’t lessen, and it was only the breadth of Fierce’s weapon that prevents him from being cut. “Stop backing up, you big fake coward!” the man shouted. “Come on, jumbo, you can take a hit!”

Fierce lost focus, and decided it was best to just swing. He drew his sword high, taking a slash to the chest before bringing his sword down hard. The man clamped to the nearby wall to dodge the blow, then kicked the sword hard while jumping straight at Fierce’s head. Fierce leaned back trying to avoid the attack, but the man hit him full on, and Fierce tumbled backwards, the man pressing him down.

Fierce found himself on his back, the machete against his throat. “Sure you don’t need a shave, Firecrotch?” the man said, “Now get this. I found it, it’s mine, and I’m not sharing with anyone else. Tell your boss to back off or come himself. Now piss off.”

The man dismounted and walked away casually. Fierce stood clumsily and called out to the retreating figure. “You won’t be keeping it, Kip!” Kip held up a hand with an extended middle finger.