2 Ash 121
Zaichaer, East End, The Knob, Bottomless Keg Bar
Throwing a punch at Anton had been the worst decision this man had made all night, and he realized his error only when Vanessa crashed into him and sent him down to the floor of the dingy bar. Dust and grime kicked up a cloud around him, and the barkeep of the Bottomless Keg was yelling fiercely at the two. Vanessa heard none of it, instead in a dire frenzy that kept her in a battle trance.
She followed him down to the ground, knees on either side of her chest. He tried to bring his hands up to defend his face, but Vanessa swung hard with a left hook that made the man cry out. He twisted underneath her, and she swung again with a savage right hook. No technique, just anger. She caught his jaw, and a sickening crack made clear she'd struck the sweet spot.
“Come on, you were so brave when you tried to hit someone when his back was turned! Where's the passion now, you pissdrinking whoreson?” Vanessa bellowed, spittle flying from her lips.
The man yowled wordlessly, and now grabbed Vanessa by her waist, trying to heave her off of him. She grabbed his collar, hefted his head off of the ground, and then slammed him back down, scattering his mind enough that he couldn't follow through on his attempt. She was cocking back another swing, but suddenly an arm crossed over her neck and tightened to dangerous levels. So focused on her immediate foe, Vanessa had neglected to keep tabs on the rest of the bar patrons that had now erupted into a frenzy. She inhaled shallowly as breathing became difficult, and she brought her hand up to his elbow. Raking downwards with her nails, Vanessa drew ribbons of crimson down his arm
The man howled feverishly, but his grip tightened in response. Vanessa wrenched her head down so that his vice grip was across her jaw instead of her neck. This hurt far more, pain already straining her vision and making her groan dully. The tradeoff meant Vanessa could breathe. Better yet, it meant Vanessa could bite.
She snapped her jaw down on the inside of his forearm like a bear trap, not an ounce of restraint as she tore skin and took a chunk out of him. Her mouth filled with blood and it dripped down her chin and smeared over her face. He screamed and tried to pull away, free arm yanking at her hair to try and dislodge her, but only making the wound worse. After a moment, Vanessa let him go and spit out her mouthful of blood down onto the man below. The second assailant stumbled back, clutching his arm and staring at it in disbelief. In this moment of disbelief, another patron of the bar caught him with an elbow that sent him crumbling.
Anton. Where was Anton?
The thought suddenly smashed into her when she had a moment to breathe. She looked over to the bar stool he had been occupying just a few moments before when she'd intercepted the blow meant for him, but he wasn't there. She tried to call out for him, but her voice was drowned out in the carnage. Every patron that remained in the bar was part of the brawl now, with the more squeamish having fled the bar and gone to notify the authorities. Normally this was precisely the sort of madness Vanessa lived for, but that was before she was hired for the express purpose of protecting a blind man from harm.
Bottles broke, tables were overturned, and throughout the bar people traded insults between blows. The two 'teams' such as they were, comprised of those that feared Vanessa enough to come to her defense, and those that despised her enough to take the risk.
Well, three teams if Anton was included as his own, but that hardly seemed fair.
Vanessa pushed herself to her feet, and again looked for her charge. Her hand dropped to her sword, though she did not yet draw it. She was ready to turn this brawl deadly to protect him if that was what it took. She shoved her way past two brawling patrons, sending them both into a table that toppled to the ground, and approached the bar.
The blind bastard couldn't have gotten far.
