Author Topic: Balian Winters: A Bloody Knuckle Beginning  (Read 127 times)

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Offline Wildfire

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Balian Winters: A Bloody Knuckle Beginning
« on: March 07, 2006, 03:38:21 PM »
Balian Winters: A Bloody Knuckle Beginning


It was a pain that he had felt before. Somehow it felt good this time. He could feel the blood dripping from his head and mouth. He spun around swinging his fist knowing that it would hit something. Luckily for him it was the side of someone?s head. The bruised and blurry figure fell to the floor in a torn mess.

As for messes, Balian wondered how he had gotten into this one. One minute he?s having a quiet drink and the next minute he?s in a brawl. Perhaps it had something to do with mug that this now fallen figure had crashed over his head. At this point the reasons weren?t important as to why he did it. This knocked out person, Tydon, was bleeding on the floor. Balian knew he would have to clean up this smeared mess. ?At least I won the fight?, he thought, ?that alone is worth the trouble of it all.?

The bartender, Dalton, threw a rag at Balian and said, ?Balian, I?ve known you since you were a small child, how do you get yourself into these sort of scraps?? Dalton was much like a father to Balian. After Balian?s father left his mother, Dalton was the one that he looked to. Balian?s mother was a serving maid for Dalton and as a child, Blaian spent much of his time running about the tavern. Dalton was always stern but kind and did his best to be mindful of Balian.

Dalton threw Balian a rag and said, ?Here, you made the mess you clean it up! And then clean up yourself. If your mother could see you now??. Balian?s mother had taken ill and passed just a year before. Balian was only now seventeen, young by just about any standard. He had taken residence and an apprenticeship with the local weaponsmith at Dalton?s request. Dalton felt that this might give the wild lad some focus for his anger. Somehow it seems that it hadn?t taken hold yet.

Things had quieted down in the tavern and Balian moved Tydon to the chair outside to give him some air and prevent him from bleeding any further onto the floor. He then began to clean the blood from the floor. While he was down on his knees soaking the blood into the rag he heard a voice behind him say, ?That was quite a display you put on. You seem to have a natural talent for seeing things before you act. That?s an interesting gift.?

Balian was not in much of a mood to entertain a conversation at this point in the night. Wanting to avoid this talk Balian continued to scrub the floor and without looking up he said, ?Yeah, what do you want? A fight? I?ve had my fight for the night. Come back tomorrow. I?ll be happy to entertain you.?

Cooly the voice said, ?Fight you?! No my lad, I want to train you.?  

?Train me? What am I a bloody dog? Are you going to teach me tricks? Get outta here ya wanker!? Balian said snidely and he continued to clean the floor.

The voice said, ?In that case, I?ll take the fight now. Stand up and we?ll do this where no one else will get hurt.?
?I told you, come back tomorrow. I?m done for tonight.? Balian replied.

?First rule: A fight never waits for you to be ready. You must always be ready!? Suddenly, Balian felt a crushing in his ribs. He rolled over half winded and coughing. ?Maybe you?re not as sharp as I thought! Anyone else would have seen that coming!? Balian looked up to see a bald man wearing simple clothes standing over him. ?So you think you can afford to turn your back on me now? Like I said, let?s go outside where we can do this without hurting anyone else.?

Balian got up, his ribs aching, and began to walk towards the door. His vision was somewhat blurry and blood was still trickling down his face from the broken mug. With out any warning Balian spun around and rushed towards his opponent. The man came down upon the back of Balian?s head with an elbow knocking him to the floor at his feet. Balian then grabbed the bald man?s feet and flung them up bringing the man backside down to the floor. He then jumped on the man and threw his fist towards his face. The bald man tossed his head to the side just before Balain?s fist made contact. The fist went thundering through the wood floor. Suddenly, Balian was cold-cocked to the left side of his head and he rolled over unconscious.

Balian woke up with his fist wrapped in bandages and a splitting headache. He was in a room unfamiliar to him. The lantern was burning low and it was dark outside. With his tongue he could feel the split on his mouth from the night before. It stung a little but in a peculiarly good way. The door creaked open and the man that had beaten Balian quietly poked his head in. ?Ah, you?re awake! Good. I want to talk to you. How?re you feeling?? he asked.

?My head and my hand hurt? Balian replied.

?Well, let me introduce myself. My name is??

?I don?t much care what your name is. Just let me up and we can both be on our way.?

??Churchill. Davis Churchill. I?m offering you a chance??

?There?s nothing you have that I want! Now leave!?

??to put your skills to use. Your fighting skills that is. I saw you fight in the tavern and you have a sense for the moment. But right now you?re wild and unrefined. I can teach you to become an artist of sorts. You would train in my company amongst your peers. There?s also pay to be had. I?ll give you good meals and lodging for now. All you have to do is say yes. What?s your mind??

?I have a job. I?m apprenticed as a weaponsmith.?

?HA! A weaponsmith? Please, you and I both know that?s not something that?ll feed the beast.? Davis leans closer and says, ?You want more Balian?you know that smithing isn?t what you want to do for the rest of your life. It?s a good skill but it won?t give you the life you crave. You know this?don?t you? So why don?t we end the verbal fisticuffs and say that your working for me now??

Balian listened intently to his words and said, ?Sounds like a decent offer. Things that sound too good to be true usually are though. Why me? Why would you even give me a chance?? Balian asked.

 Davis replied, ?Because I see some of myself in you when I was your age. I was given a chance?which was all I needed. It?s time for me to give back. Chances are like rope Balian?you can either hang yourself with it or climb to greater heights. What you do with this chance is up to you.?

?Well, against my better judgment?I?ll take the offer.?

?Great! Pack your things we leave right now.?

?To where??

?At first I?m sure that you?ll call it hell! Let?s move!?
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity