Bar Fight

“Cheater! I am going to kill you.” Strassur looked over as he saw a large man standing up from his chair. He was well over six feet tall, with a beard and a look of experience on his face. The attention was being directed at the young looking man wearing dirty clothes. He stared up at the big man, scared to death.
“I am not cheating. I just got a good deal.”
“He’s lying Mark. Make him pay,” came comments from the gathering crowd. The bar was a small, but popular due to the reasonable prices and famous variety of breads. Never was there a day when the seats were not filled with thirsty patrons devouring thick ale and eating mouth watering fresh baked bread.
“I can’t stand little cheaters,” Mark yelled, as he threw aside the table. People near by jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by the flying furniture. The young man tried to scamper back, but was not quick enough. Mark’s long stride easily caught up to him as he grabbed the boy around the throat with both hands.
“There is a better way to handle this,” Strassur grunted threw clenched teeth. When the grip only tightened, he reached out and drove his thumb deep into the tissues of Mark’s right forearm. He grunted in pain as he let go of the young man who was loosing color in his face. Messaging his forearm, Mark looked at Strassur for a moment, sizing him up. Suddenly, the bearded man swung his right fist with all his might, aiming at his new assailant’s head. Strassur stepped towards the big man with his left foot as he smoothly ducked under the large fist. As Strassur moved through to Mark’s rear, he struck him in the ribs with his right hand, and immediately followed with a powerful knee to the stomach. Mark doubled over in pain, trying to catch his lost breath. His head swelled with anger, as if to burst under the pressure. Standing back up, Mark yelled his battle cry as he rushed Strassur, wanting nothing more than to cause pain to his little annoyance. As Mark closed in, the agile young mans swift right leg sprang out striking the large man right below the ribs. Again, Mark nearly panicked as fought to regain his wind.
“This doesn’t need to happen. I did not cheat.” Strassur said sternly. He continued to back up as a few of Mark’s friends rose and helped him back to his feet. The pale look on the big mans face quickly turned a deep red as their eyes met. He regained his breath now and breathed heavy, sweat forming on his brow. Hatred overpowered Mark and he drew his dagger from his waist band. It was silver dagger with a long thin blade. The handle was made from some type of light brown wood that appeared to be smooth from years of use. Strassur, being very experienced for his age in many forms of combat recognized that even a small knife can be a serious threat in the right hands. And Mark seemed to have the right hands. Fading back even more, the young fighter pulled out his own weapons. Two plain black sticks approximately two feet long and an inch thick. Strassur suddenly spun them around in a beautifully violent fashion, and then dropped back into a deep fighting stance. Nothing was said, but the look in his eyes was like a statue, hard and unwavering. Strassur was ready.
After a brief pause, Mark started forward with his friends in tow. He was already nervous due to the skills already displayed, but he had to save face. Plus, he did have some backup. Dagger raised, the crown advanced.
“Stop!”
The crowd did stop and looked over to where this order was delivered from. In the doorway, Mark saw an older man wearing baggy dark clothing and a black sash around his waist. His weather beaten face was clean shaven with wrinkles forming around the eyes. Even as an older man, his powerful looking frame and even wiser looking face demanded attention and radiated with authority.
“Captain Leon,” Mark whispered, wondering how much he had already witnessed. His anger was quickly replaced with fear. Leon was the most feared fighter in town, being the captain of the guards and the creator of the cities unique forms of security. Mark did not want to go the jail. “Please sir, he attacked me first after I caught him chea…”
“Quiet,” interrupted Leon. “I do not need an excuse for this outburst. Clean the place up immediately. And Strassur, come with me, now.” The captain turned and walked out of the bar. Strassur walked cautiously out of the bar without a word, leaving only the sounds of furniture being moved to cut through the thick silence.