A Battle Scene

I want to write a battle scene, perhaps a fight for a (potential) book I'm writing...

Here goes...

Dargu raised a bloodied fist and planted it firmly into Penwicke's face. He did this several times before kicking off the gnat's that Penwicke called associates from his body. Dargu reeled, looking for a weapon, but all he saw were enemies. He swept the closest man's legs from under him with a kick, planted an earth shattering punch on another man's jaw, then crushed a third man's nose with his forehead.

Dargu managed to clear a path out of the circle of death, and rushed outside of it. He had to shoulder his way past another two men, but managed in the end. He turned frantically then, grabbing one man's punch and directing it sideways into another man's head. Yet another assailant span a kick at his head, which Dargu ducked under and allowed another enemy to take.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dargu saw a large plank of wood flying at his back. Aiming a flying back-kick at it, he shattered the wood into a dozen splinters and a fair sized plank on it's own. Rolling along the ground, he clawed at it to use as a weapon. The man who swung the plank at him in the first place was the first to taste it. Dargu was feeling the rhythm of the fight now, his movements were feeling much more fluid now. Block, kick, punch, evade, swing, block, kick, punch, evade...

The first knife he saw was in a man's hand. He kicked the hand aside expertly and brough his plank of wood down on the exposed wrist mightily. A second knife was thrown at him, he managed to catch it on the plank of wood, then draw it, and use it on the nearest enemy he could find. Slashing ribbons of red across his mounting enemies, he left a trail of blood in his wake as he cut across the room, seeking Penwicke again.

His knifing frenzy went up a gear, grabbing a man around his throat before slitting it, he automatically pulled the light sword he had been carrying. Suddenly, the tiger's tooth got bigger. Dargu's attackers were less haphazard this time, approaching with more caution, and drawing swords of their own. Spotting a hesitation like a hawk, Dargu leapt on him and buried the sword in his chest. Immediately, he turned and slashed at another face, then shoved the sword into a third man's throat. Stepping forward through the thinning line of attackers, Dargu worked himself into a frenzy once again, blood frothing in the air all about him.

He dueled a tough fighter who was as quick as he was big. Dargu took him out with a slash across his legs, before opening his throat. He took on another smaller man, who couldn't have been a boy. He'd never live to be a man. Surrounded, overwhelmed, and frenzied, Dargu knew there was no stopping him, nothing to lose, not a damn thing on this Earth that could calm him - except Penwicke's blood.

He finally faced him on the platform. Penwicke was still trying to stem the tide of blood from his nose, almost not noticing Dargu standing over him with a sword slick with gore. "I think it's broken..." Penwicke proclaimed limply.

Dargu picked him up by the neck and gutted him like a fish.

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