Quick Context To Scene
This is the potential opening scene on Errol the Beggar Knight. It would then feed into the first chapter and then a series of chapters for his first tale. I’m debating about making his tales a collection of short stories, a single short chapter book, or maybe both.
Fellow writers, please provide feedback and do not hold back. I aim to improve and would love your insight.
Tales Of The Beggar Knight – Opening Scene
Errol grimaced as a drop of sweat slid down his grimy forehead into his right eye. The only thing dirtier than his forehead was the bar’s floor and the company it kept. He looked across the table at his opponents through his now watering eye.
On the left was an older man, just past his prime, but still thinking he could swing a sword as he had in his younger days. He wore too much black leather and drew out his sentences like he had grease in his mouth. That black hat was the cherry on top. He looked like a reject pirate. Which was likely since there wasn’t a port within miles of Cassian. An empty town for empty people indeed.
The other to his right was worrisome to Errol because what he lacked in brains he had in braw. He was likely 10 years younger than Errol and looked like a bull with two beady eyes eyeing the tiny playing cards in his hand. Errol frowned as he thought about the Brite Kid’s age, am I past my prime like greasy lips? He shook his head, only if I lose.
He glanced at his two cards again as the river was turned out on the table. “Oh, blast it all!”
“Ahaha! We knew you were bluffing the whole time you welp knight, “ Greasy lips chimed at Errol.
“Oh? And how could you know that?” Errol looked over his left shoulder at the barkeep who turned away and busied himself spreading the dirt around the bar with a soiled rag.
The brute kid threw his cards on the pot in the center of the table. “I’ll take that sword as bargained.”
“Oh, don’t you worry my boy. I’ll give it to you.” Flynn kicked the table over onto his opponents who both backpedaled from the force. Unfortunately, Errol’s kick also propelled his chair back and he landed squarely on his back. His head bounced off the oaken floor “Oof!” He shook his head and blinked slowly trying to see clearly.
Brute Kid jumped on him quickly, pinning his shoulders to the ground as they grappled for control. Then Greasy Lips started kicking him in the ribs. Well, this isn’t as planned.
Using the Brute’s weight against him Errol twisted his whole body, flinging him to his left just before Greasy’s boot was about to make contact with his ribs a third time. Greasy knocked the kid out cold with a kick to the head and Errol grabbed Greasy’s foot. He lifted it toppling the wide-eyed Greasy Lips into the bar stools.
Whack! The barkeep started throwing empty bottles at Errol just as he gained his footing. Heaving his chair behind the bar he lept across the table and burst out the door.
Rubbing the bump on the back of his head he screamed to his squire, “Flynn! We’re leaving town early, did you get the food we need?
“No, you didn’t give me the money I needed to buy the supplies, just like last time.” Flynn moped as he untied the horses, unphased by the commotion in the bar.
“Oh come now, you’re a resourceful boy. Next time, take a donation as a tax for all the protection and hard work we provide for the people,” Errol laughed gleefully as he mounted Trigger.
“Ah yes, protection for the people, how could I forget,” Flynn galloped behind Errol leaving a dust cloud behind them as they broke past the town limits. Making a wide circle they changed course and headed for Bertrand.
Closing Thoughts
Like this scene? Contact me directly if you want to read more!