In the midst of the ruckus, Crowe got a bloodied lip and a bruising cheek. But he was fast enough to move out of the way of a chair, ducking and diving, dipping and moving out of the way of low blows, as he took one man by the leg and pinned him hard to the ground. It was the one that he'd promised to cut his tongue out first.
He bodyslammed the man into submission and made his promise true, pulling his head back with one hand and slashing the blade in his other hand across his tongue in one swift movement. The move had the man screaming and coughing out blood. And a tongue wiggled uselessly to the floor.
His partner lunged for Crowe and landed on top of him. Crowe rolled to the side, landing hard on his ribs as he struggled to keep the man off of him. Slamming his head upward, his vision flashed with colors caused by the force of the blow and knocked him off, but giving himself a migraine at the same time. The first one still writhed on the floor, trying to collect his tongue from the ground.
Crowe kicked the other in the chest and sent him reeling backwards, until he crashed through the window. But suddenly someone grabbed Crowe by the back and nudged him forward none too gently out of the window to follow. He landed with a thud on the hard cobblestone, but Crowe got up first and proceeded to slam his fists hard into the other man's face until it was covered in nothing but blood.
Crowe stood, after cutting his throat, exhausted and rummaged through his clothes. Bunch of chumps... Pfft. He grinned inwardly to himself, finding money and pocketing it and that grinned stayed on his face when something impacted his head. Hard, like the hilt of a dagger and made him fall to the ground, blacked out.
"Fuck, man! He got our boys. Except Cheesehead. Get him from off that floor. Let's take him back to the boss."