Flailing commences!
You blink once, twice. You do not even think, you just react.
One of the sandals you are, or were, carrying, is suddenly flying through the air to impact the thug with the fire bomb, causing him to drop it...just as he lit it. Which is good, as it hit the ground and shattered, causing a pool of flame to appear, and distract the two men. This gives you enough time to throw your other sandal, and impact the other thug, knocking him off balance enough that he stumbles.
Right into the flame puddle.
With nary a care, you drop the rest of your packages -two maps, a bundle of string, and sadly, a very good beef bowl- and sprint the rest of your way towards the thugs as they are still disoriented. Along the way, you grab a pole -used to light and extinguish lampposts- leaning against, well, a lamppost. Lucky you that someone left it there.
You skid to a stop just at the edge of the puddle of flames and pain, wobbling on your feet and gripping the pole -like you have seen those monks, out by the monastery, hold their sticks- tightly in both hands. With a squick, you try to hit the thug that is turning even now towards you and raising his hand as he scrambles out of the fire.
Bend, don't break. Be the good sandal, not the new sandal, not the old sandal.
Hunh, that...makes some sense, and while you are drifting in your own head, the thug takes a swipe at you, even as fire crawls up his left leg. Which you block, barely, with the pole, though you are forced to take a step back, else you be overbalanced and tumble down. That would be bad.
"Shit! You lil' cunt, you set me on fire," the thug you're currently dealing with shouts at you and takes a swipe at you with one of his hands, his other patting at his leg as he hops and tries to put himself out.
You can't help but squeak as you block the swipe with the pole, though the wooden impromptu weapon breaks in half, leaving a piece in each of your hands. You also stumble back and fall on your cute bum. Thankfully, you fell away from the burning pool of fire, and just landed on packed dirt. Unfortunately, you are now on the ground, your opponent(s) are above you, if hopping around on fire, and you have dropped your weapon(s).
Flipping onto your hands and knees, you scrabbling away from the the thugs, hearing a thump, and then another thump, as the thugs stop, drop, and roll. Only...you feel a big hand wrap around your ankle and start tugging you backwards!
"What, nonono! Getoffgetoffgetoff!" you screech, as you roll onto your back and kick the thug in the face repeatedly, trying to get him to let you go. It doesn't work and you are dragged, kicking and screaming towards the thug, as the other thug gets up, more slowly as he savours the fact that you can't go anywhere.
Until one of your flailing legs nails him in the crotch. You honestly weren't aiming there, but you will take what you can get. Oh, hey, thug two let you go, to mimic his buddy and grab his groin in sympathy. This lets you flip back on your hands and knees and get up to your feet again.
With a grunt, you kick the sympathising thug in his ugly face before you turn and run back to the bakery. Making as much noise as you can, in the hope that someone, anyone, will come help. To no avail apparently, as you see doors and windows close instead. Not the bakery, of course, but everywhere else. And it is oddly bereft of people.
Well.
You pick up a bamboo umbrella someone has carelessly left lying on the road and twirl it around in your hand, before turning and setting yourself for the thugs. They will not pass. Hopefully, you can hold them long enough for father to get his wok into play.
"Oh, Resplendent Lotus, the things you get yourself caught up into," you hear father behind you, and you glance to the side just enough to see him step up beside you, weidling his wok of headbashing. I thought mother and I told you not to get into any more trouble?"
"But father, they were going to burn the bakery," you protest, your lips turning into a pout as you stamp your foot. "They deserve to get their butts kicked!"
"Yes, yes, but it doesn't have to be you that does it," mother fusses as she pulls up on the other side of you, holding a...is that a sword? Oh, that's the replica sword that your mother puts on display in the front room.
"Shit, we gotta tell the boss 'bout this," says the thug you nailed in the groin, still a bit hunched over before he turns and starts to hobble/run away. HIs partner in crime, literally, follows right behind him.
What do now?
[X] Stay here
(make sure your parents are safe)
[X] Apprehend the thugs
(Stop the thugs to turn over to the subprefects)
[X] Follow the thugs
(Try to find the thugs base)
Ugh, I forgot how hard writing fighting scenes are. Especially when the main protag doesn't know how to fight. Ah well; I think I am getting better.