(Punctuation hasn’t been sorted)
The hardest bit of writing I have ever done. How do you create a scene with so many people doing so many things at once-it was tough! As a New Writer I settled for just creating the flavour of a battle through the eyes of others.
How do you get all that separate action into one scene, you can’t make it too bland, and to describe every bit of the action would be beyond tedious!
I gave it a go-I have added a few examples!
From out of the trees they came Panthers, Wolves, Pixies and Dryads, half Elves on horseback, there were humans too. I saw Roy take out one of Stone Hearts Lieutenants with an Iron doorstop tied to a piece of washing line.
Of course it was Iron, they all hate it. Now I know why dad won’t have any in the house. I had once dragged that old iron doorstop all the way back from the States for him. It was shaped like an oak tree and I thought he would love it. He tried hard to look delighted, but it was obvious that he wanted to run away screaming.
Now I think about it, I don’t think he or Marc ever touched it. I might as well have given him a dead Rat. He smiled politely and left it by the chair still half wrapped.
It disappeared pretty quickly after that, I have a strong suspicion that Roy, the only full human in the bunch, was tasked with disposing of it. It did give your fingers a bit of a tingly feeling when you touched it. I assumed that was rust remover and washed my hands!
The battle was scrappy and downright dirty, no holds barred. I caught sight of my father once or twice, for a man well over 1000 years old he was quite a mover with a sword. All the elves were athletic, their side and ours. Boy could they could jump and spin and roll, if I hadn’t been so busy It would have been a privilege to watch them.
I was frantic, stab wounds and vicious cuts mainly, I did what I could with what I had to hand, luckily my medical bag is always in the car, campsites are full of dangers.
There were casualties, theirs as well as ours. We were pretty even in number. I saw one of the giant Grass Hoppers from the band go down, he took a flying leap into the fray and landed on an upturned sword. Barry Kahn in his bear shape lost an eye but kept on fighting.
Marc was incredible, his dispatched many an Elf to Hades or wherever they went. The Pixies dropped hot rocks, and screeched in viciously with silver knives and a load of Iron musket balls that some genius had thought to bring up from the museum.
Molly and the Dryad girls fought like tigers, they were all experienced fighters, knives in their boots, and experts with a bow.
Dad was in the middle of it all, fighting his way to Stone Heart who had just hacked down Cheryl the Leopard. Marc was beside him, the two of them working in unison, with the ease of long practice.
I was dealing with the Pixie Ambassador at the time. He was a bit of a mess, one of his wings was torn and he was bleeding heavily from a cut on his leg, but he was watching too.
Beautiful isn’t he he said, incredibly athletic don’t you think.
Yes, he keeps in shape I said, raising an eyebrow to the newest member of dads fan club.
Look at them covering for each other, if I should ever have a friendship like that I would be a lucky Pixie.
Been looking out for each other all their lives I said, stitching the wing into what I thought was the correct position, I was learning fast.
Oh of course they have, sorry, I’m a little dizzy. You are very like your father, lucky you.
I finished up, all done I said,
Then he passed out, I made sure he couldn’t choke then I left him, others were calling and there wasn’t much else I could do for him, especially as I had no idea how a Pixies insides worked!
It lasted until the sun was pretty high in the sky, nobody seemed to be winning. To say that the Elves were vicious was a gross understatement, so our side had to do the same. There were no prisoners…
My father was on him, sword flashing as he tried to get a grip.
I heard him say, come on now Erik let’s finish it
The Elf snarled, Ok Jonny just you and me.
They went for each other and the others held back, everyone knew this was dads fight. Even Marc kept out of it. There was a clash of swords, both of them were world class fencers. At one point dad lost his weapon and Marc threw him another one, which he caught with one hand and carried on fighting.
It was obviously going the distance, neither of them would give in. Back and forth they parried and thrust. Stone Heart seizing every opportunity to beat dad with the flat of his sword. Dad was black and blue but still he kept going, fuelled by almost 40 years of pent up rage.
Then they were on the ruins, the sword play was incredibly skillful. Both of them were beautiful to watch, and it seemed to last for ages. Small slides of broken rock fell down as they scrambled over the ancient stones
The rocks were always slippery and suddenly Dad was down, Stone Heart’s blade at his throat.
The plain fell silent, loser leaves the field eh Jonny, Stone Heart snarled
No old men or Knights to protect you now, even the Bear and the Pixie are finished.
He was a gloater after all, but he was right!