Brecon grabbed at the free trader’s steely arm with both hands, fighting for air. His human hand was no match for the enormous lout, and he began to see spots. One laughed at him, pouring a miasma of onion breath into his tearing eyes. Fighting for oxygen, Brecon tried to remember how to move his wrist to get a pincer grasp with his brass hand. His head scraped against the splintered wood of the door as he fought, his boots thumping repeatedly against the surface as he tried to gain some advantage. Just as the spots were widening behind his eyelids, he felt the jarring sensation bolt up to his elbow as the brass hand locked on One’s arm, tiny motors whirring. He twisted his wrist with his last bit of strength, attempting to tighten the grip without the feedback of touch he would have received from his amputated hand. One howled and let go, grabbing his injured arm with his fingers. Blood welled between the sausage-like digits. Brecon fell hard against the door, not the least bit sorry he’d drawn blood from the traitorous swine.
What do You think about Captain Gravenor’s Airship Equinox (Steampunk Smugglers)?
