I was wondering how realistic the heroic fights we see in movies and fantasy novels are. Are you familiar with any instances in world history when a very small group of mighty warriors (less than a dozen) inflicted great damage on a far larger group or mob, or when one man killed dozens?
Without the use of modern weaponry, of course.
The Battle at the Alamo. 185 Texans held off the 1400 strong Mexican Army, inflicting casualties up to 43%.
Of course they all died, but it cost Santa Anna much more time and resources than he could spare, and made it possible for the Texans to rally and rout the Mexicans in later battles.
The Battle of Stamford Bridge.
The vikings ultimately lost to the English, but a purportedly 2 meter+ tall viking berserkr held the bridge for an hour against the English unarmored, alone but for his axe, until the English sent a boat under the bridge and he was speared to death.
That's one tough Viking! and exactly the kind of tales I am looking for.
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There was also something about Musashi at a bath house, where he was tricked into taking a bath while many foes waited outside as they tried to burn him to death; I'm sketchy on the exact details but he apparently came exploding out of the building, laying into the force arrayed before him before fleeing.
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That's one tough Viking! and exactly the kind of tales I am looking for.The Battle of Stamford Bridge.
The vikings ultimately lost to the English, but a purportedly 2 meter+ tall viking berserkr held the bridge for an hour against the English unarmored, alone but for his axe, until the English sent a boat under the bridge and he was speared to death.
Oh, and Poul Anderson did a novelization of the viking king who led that force, Harald Hardrede. It was called "The Last Viking," I think.
Jade, your story was very impressive and inspirational...
Regarding my service, yes I was in the army but the closest I saw to action was when a huge porcupine got stuck under a gate and I had to help him leave. Luckily it was intelegent enough to understand I was helping it and didn't make some new holes in my face :)
Jade, your story was very impressive and inspirational...
Regarding my service, yes I was in the army but the closest I saw to action was when a huge porcupine got stuck under a gate and I had to help him leave. Luckily it was intelegent enough to understand I was helping it and didn't make some new holes in my face :)
Ack... then I'll reprint. Once I submitted it I saw how spot on everyone else's helpful replies were and I deleted it. Love that porcupine story. :)
Of course most legend is buffed and false. Can one man stand against a few toe to toe... eh, it can happen. But the reality of combat is that four guys who are as armed and armored as their foe and know how to attack as a group will pretty much slice and dice whoever they're attacking, anything said to the contrary is mythology and legend building and I defy anyone to demonstrate an even possible recreation that doesn't require some well planned out 7 step SCA choreography (don't get me wrong... their technique is great... it's just more of a dance than the way actual sword fighting plays out).
Even if our hero somehow bests the first few guys who come at him (which right there makes him a titan among men), muscle freezing fatigue sets in quicker than movies care to honor. Reality in this regard is a bit of a downer. Bruce Lee fighting wave after streaming wave of kung-fu punks hand to hand in Enter the Dragon wouldn't have actually gone ten seconds. 30 against one 1 is just a quickly resolved meatgrinder. Uma would have been turned into a sewn skin sleeping bag before her first blink in Kill Bill's premeire gang attack scene. I really enjoy violence in fantasy, but I'm more a fan of a realistic slant to that bamboo-hopping Crouching Weasel Hidden Gecko ropework. The superhero stuff doesn't grab me as viscerally and make me want to hop on the treadmill or start benching.
Violence, even when you're winning, never feels all that glamorous. For me it has always felt dark and draining. Washing someone else's blood off you feels like a corruption. Well, it was never my thing anyway. Some people might actually lick their fists clean and pray to Mars. I don't know.
An account my own experience with violence. If it comes off as a martial arts geek boast, that is not what I'm going for:
I was arrested once in my life back in to 90's when a group of teen gangster wannabees got together to tell me to stay out of their town. This was all over me expecting a $400 loan to be paid back. They surrounded my car as I came back from an assignment. There were seven of them. My experience has been that people who attack in groups are, singled out, complete cowards.
"Stay outta Dobbs!" one shouted, with his baseball cap sideways on his head like some kind of cartoon duck or mental patient. I went straight for him and didn't stop until I had groin kneed, knee kicked, throat punched, and eye poked my way through five of them (nothing fancy). All in all, they did not move, and two of them just backed out of the fray wearing blank expressions. I guess me not kow-towing for my life wasn't something they had even bothered to consider or create a contingency for.
I should have just said, "Okay... I'm leaving," and then called the cops on them, but at the time the insult felt too monumental because I had tried to big brother these guys. Their betrayal caused me to feel like the Exacter of Justice (and not just some doofus in a trench coat armed with but a sturdy dog leash). Jarod, cartoon duck boy, turned out to be the son of a detective who once worked in that town. Did not know that. The legal fees cost me another $1,600 to get the thing dismissed. $2,000 out of pocket for having to be the tough guy and knowing the wrong kinds of people, I guess. And all I got for it was this story.
The hip-hop crew ran off but two remained behind and I was busily lecturing them about what it meant to be a man when the patrol cars pulled up. The cops were nice about it, but there was an eyewitness who saw me launch, I was the out-of-town older guy, and that was that. At least they didn't put me in the holding cell. I got to stay cuffed to a wooden bar along the wall in the same room as the cops. I talked to them, made them laugh, and they kindly tried to get me out of there as quickly as possible. My friction with this would-be gang didn't end there but it fizzled and I never saw any real trouble because I did leave Dobbs within the month. The antagonism just wasn't worth the meager paycheck I'd earned there.
It has been ages since I've been in the ring or felt the need to defend my honor in the streets. Though I smile far more often these days, something in my eyes handily keeps the world at bay and I cherish the peace and stability that comes with finally laying down arms. I don't want to fight anymore.
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Good stuff Mr. Jade. Don't take my recent uncharacteristic silence as a denunciation; I'm currently in the midst of a Cat-in-the-Hat level spring cleaning project, with my two toddlers doing their best Oscar-winning performances as Thing 1 and Thing 2; also your autobiographical post has as usual given me a seven course dinner of food for thought, brought out in tureen after tureen of astounding verbiage.
Good stuff Mr. Jade. Don't take my recent uncharacteristic silence as a denunciation; I'm currently in the midst of a Cat-in-the-Hat level spring cleaning project, with my two toddlers doing their best Oscar-winning performances as Thing 1 and Thing 2; also your autobiographical post has as usual given me a seven course dinner of food for thought, brought out in tureen after tureen of astounding verbiage.
lol.
That is very kind of your to say, Mr. Wolfie but I read no denunciation. :)
Actually I had that post up for less than twenty seconds before noticing how many better replies rolled in and deleting it.
EDIT: Very cute about the kiddies, BTW.
Good stuff Mr. Jade. Don't take my recent uncharacteristic silence as a denunciation; I'm currently in the midst of a Cat-in-the-Hat level spring cleaning project, with my two toddlers doing their best Oscar-winning performances as Thing 1 and Thing 2; also your autobiographical post has as usual given me a seven course dinner of food for thought, brought out in tureen after tureen of astounding verbiage.lol.
That is very kind of your to say, Mr. Wolfie but I read no denunciation. :)
Actually I had that post up for less than twenty seconds before noticing how many better replies rolled in and deleting it.
EDIT: Very cute about the kiddies, BTW.
BTW, since you are an expert in the field maybe you can say: can a single supereb and well-armed warrior kill or at least cause massive damage to, say, twenty poorly armed peasents who, for some reason, want him dead?
BTW, since you are an expert in the field maybe you can say: can a single supereb and well-armed warrior kill or at least cause massive damage to, say, twenty poorly armed peasents who, for some reason, want him dead?
IMO, It all depends on their level of fear.
If twenty poor folk had had enough of watching their children die, they might stalwartly pig pile the warrior, and then it's all over for his plans of dining on peasant-under-glass. If, on the other hand, they were sort of daring each other to attack him, operating without a single push or concerted effort, a trained warrior would know to aggressively press the advantage and sow fear by cutting a throat quickly to keep the herd mortified and doubtful of success. Once you've got them on the run... you've won (or you're being led into a brilliantly convceived peasant ambush).
The warrior would sense their level of fear and know whether to attack or run. Even bears operate that way.
EDIT: If this were a stand and deliver type scenario. Yes, a superb warrior could make them all real sorry before falling.
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To add to the fear factor, I also think it hinges on their level of combat savvy. A dozen Scottish Highland clansmen, though comparatively impoverished, would know through years of interclan conflict just how to deal with a lone mounted English knight.
A gaggle of pitchfork brandishing peasantry on the bottom rung of the feudal system, however, might not know to surround the knight and bumrush him from behind when he shieldbashes the front two peasants, then wrestle him to the ground, unhelm him, and finish the job. Each of the peasants is a lone individual who wants to preserve life and limb and thus doesn't want to be the one guy who has to go under the knight's scything steel to allow his compatriots the opportunity to make that knight a turtle on his back.
...can a single supereb and well-armed warrior kill or at least cause massive damage to, say, twenty poorly armed peasents who, for some reason, want him dead?
Have you seen Unforgiven, starring Clint Eastwood? It is an amazing movie, on several levels -- and is more realistic than a first glance suggests.
Killing is not as easy as we think (though guns make it much easier). Most people lack the training and mindset to do it well. In the time taken by the peasant to figure out which end of the weapon to use, build up the courage to get close to the trained killer, and actually thrust the pitchfork -- he and several others have died. By then he's surrounded by fleeing, screaming, panicking friends, which doesn't help a bit.
My two cents -- for what it's worth :)
I once read something along the following lines: Only 10 percent of humanity has the mindset to kill. It's kind of save the species system which prevents us from just wiping eachother out (with the proper training however you can erase that system). Thus if your average peasant is faced with a "ten percenter" he is as good as dead I think.
To add to the fear factor, I also think it hinges on their level of combat savvy. A dozen Scottish Highland clansmen, though comparatively impoverished, would know through years of interclan conflict just how to deal with a lone mounted English knight.
A gaggle of pitchfork brandishing peasantry on the bottom rung of the feudal system, however, might not know to surround the knight and bumrush him from behind when he shieldbashes the front two peasants, then wrestle him to the ground, unhelm him, and finish the job. Each of the peasants is a lone individual who wants to preserve life and limb and thus doesn't want to be the one guy who has to go under the knight's scything steel to allow his compatriots the opportunity to make that knight a turtle on his back.
I was thinking this very thing while out shoveling snow. If the locals are used to violence, it is far harder to intimidate them.
Gorr Krikers! I'd ritherr fight a crew of spiked platemail wearing robberknights with a potato peeler in me HeMan underoo's than shovel snow.
It was a +2 snowshovel of fatiguing.
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I hate to add what sounds like a brag here but.....
I have a fairly decent martial arts background and started training at 12 until I was 22. In the middle there somewhere an exgirlfriend decided that her cheating didn't hurt me enough and proceeded to try to recruit every reject in school to "kick my arse". During the following year and a half I fought roughly once every week and a half to 2 weeks. The most people she sent at one time was 5. Out of those 5, 2 went to the hospital (1 with both bones in his forearm broken...he pulled a small knife, the other lost several teeth and suffered a broken jaw), 1 got knocked out with an elbow, another took a knee to the solar-plexus that took out of the fray and the last guy ran for his life (I like to call him the smart one.). 2 of these guys were linemen on our HS football team and the rest were no slouches either. I suffered some bruised ribs, a couple lite bruises to the face and head, and a slice across my thigh that took 4 stitches to close and ruined a nice pair of Cavarechis (sp?). Over that year and a half I learned how to hit to disable as quickly as possible or be overwhelmed by people.
This is not something I am proud of. I am disgusted by the actions that led me through the hell of my late high school to early adult life and if I could erase the memories I would.
One person, well trained and equipped, could do amazing things in my experience.
I feel sick to my stomach now and wish I hadn't dredged up those vile images again into my memory.
FH
P.S. The wife loves the sense of security I provide but hates the mental scars that I carry. And I never killed anyone.
Aw, COME ON!!! Heathy you are one sorry Texan and should have your horns revoked from the front of your car for not mentioning THE ALAMO!!!! Great Googly Moogly. You made the first 2 posts and didn't mention your backyard's antics before someone else?!? You should be ashamed.
FH
That was all about fortification. Uri's question seemed to be asking if a few men had ever drawn swords and left a field of enemies peanut butter. He asked for pre-modern weapons too, like the gun.
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Aw, COME ON!!! Heathy you are one sorry Texan and should have your horns revoked from the front of your car for not mentioning THE ALAMO!!!! Great Googly Moogly. You made the first 2 posts and didn't mention your backyard's antics before someone else?!? You should be ashamed.
FH
Dude, I just don't like talking about it in light of the Mexican soldier's diary entry that's caused such a revisionist stir in recent years. I'm pretty sure Davy Crockett went out like Fess Parker in the end there, swinging his rifle butt. I frankly don't want to bring the issue up, because I don't care to argue the whole point.
Director of Narrative
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Dude, I just don't like talking about it in light of the Mexican soldier's diary entry that's caused such a revisionist stir in recent years. I'm pretty sure Davy Crockett went out like Fess Parker in the end there, swinging his rifle butt. I frankly don't want to bring the issue up, because I don't care to argue the whole point.Aw, COME ON!!! Heathy you are one sorry Texan and should have your horns revoked from the front of your car for not mentioning THE ALAMO!!!! Great Googly Moogly. You made the first 2 posts and didn't mention your backyard's antics before someone else?!? You should be ashamed.
FH
“You may all go to Hell, and I will go to Texas”
-Davy Crockett