Contests

Contest #1 - 3rd Place: @NathanielWilhelm

Congratulations, NathanielWilhelm! You made 3rd place in Contest #1!

Here's the story!

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She wiped the blood from her cheek and picked up the sword. His eyes followed her blade as she pressed it against his neck.

"Don't. Move."

"Oooof course." He sighed rolling his eyes. How did he always end up in these messes? It was his Captain's luck wasn't it. it was rubbing off on him. Traipsing around tavern to tavern always meeting the cutest girls, aaand the angriest warriors. Honestly, just one day where people weren't trying to kill him, was that too much to ask!?

"What are you doing here?" She was a knight, that much was obvious by her armored uniform. But with her long silky mint green hair braided over her shoulder and great sword in her hand, there was only one knight that she could be.

Freaking Lancelot. Just. His. Luck. What was she doing here? He didn't miss the way her chest plate was specially crafted to contain her ample feminine wealth.

"I'm just looking for my captain." He said knowing that no matter what happened next, he was screwed.

"In an alley? In the middle of the night?" She said pushing her sword against his neck drawing a hair of blood. His gaze lazily drifted to the slain thugs by her. Those aren't normal back alley thugs. And he would know, his damn pirate captain is usually passed out drunk in these kinds of alleys and it was his job as her... well, he wasn't quite her son, since she's not technically his mother. Neither is she motherly! He often wondered if he qualifies as a stray dog. The loyal seadog that drags her back to the ship every morning.

"Yes, black hair. Deep in her cups, or passed out. Huge rack. May or may not be in the company of a local girl with equally huge rack. I'm just the errand boy, ma'am." He answered, knowing that even an honest description of Black Beard won't do him any good. Best keep it vague, and get the hell out of there when he got the chance.

"Errand boy for a group of pirates. You're younger than I imagined you, Mr. Flint. Do you know these men?" She tilted her head at the six men by her feet.

"Ha!" I laugh. I place my hand on my hip. "Listen, love. You're pretty, but even my captain wouldn't be caught dead associating with the Nightclaw Assassins to get in your pants. And if you know who I am, then you can put your sword away. We just got our charter from your king and work for you now. Privateers." He hissed that last word, and spit on the ground. It just meant they were hired by King Arthur to pirate the other nation's ships and not his. Flint was anxious because he just knew Black Beard would find a way to screw it up, like attempting to sleep with Queen Guinevere. Then Flint would unknowingly get caught up in it, again. And have to bail her out... again. It was a vicious cycle.

"The Nightclaw, why are they involved?" Lancelot looked shocked. But Flint noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Yep, this was just his luck. He took half a step backward to place his foot and kicked the guard of her sword.

To her credit, Lancelot didn't let go of the great sword, and instead it pivoted around her slicing open a stealthing assassin that appeared as if out of thin air.

Lancelot gasped and almost lost her balance, but Flint took a step forward. He grabbed her free wrist with is right hand, and with his left he grabbed her waist. Pulling on her hand and tripping her slightly with his foot, he dipped her in an elegant bow just as the load bang of a magic gun went off, and a stream of lightning shot past where Lancelot would have been.

"I believe it is customary for beautiful ladies to thank the man who saved their life with a kiss, but I'll settle for a dance. Savvy." Flint winked at the blushing knightess. "You know the Highsenbaem step, yes?"

Lancelot nodded weakly. It was good enough for him. He pulled his impromptu dancing partner to her feet dodging a bolt of lightning from another source. He began to hum a tune to get the beat going.

He guided her through the steps. "And step, and swing, and step, and ough." She stepped where he told her to step, and when she swung there was a gout of blood from an enemy she hadn't seen there before. Flint led her into a wider alley where she could easily swing her great sword, but when he pulled her into him, as part of the dance, her bountiful chest armor slammed into him.

"I'll watch that from now on." Flint coughed.

Soon the dance was as natural as breathing. After being led to slay a couple dozen enemies, Lancelot felt something she had never felt before. She admitted that she had indeed been charmed, and it was time to fight back in her own way.

When the last enemy lost his head to Lancelot's blade, Flint caught stole his pistol and fired three shots into the dark, and three bodily thuds hit the ground.

"That's the last of them." He tossed the gun casually over his shoulder. "Well it was fun, Love. But I must be off. The longer the night goes on, the more trouble my Captain can get herself in to."

"Wait." Lancelot, grabbed Flint by the collar with her free hand. "We still have one matter of business."

Flint sighed, and then was utterly surprised when she pressed her velvety lips into his for a quick kiss.

Lancelot cocked her eyebrow. "Thanks for saving my life." She let go. Then she sheathed her blade and turned to leave. "Oh, and when you find your captain, tell her you'll be busy tomorrow night."

"Doooing what?" He asked, not liking where this was going.

"We have a date. You are going to take me dancing for real this time." She walked away swaying her hips seductively.

"Oooof course."

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Read the next part for the runners-up!