The Motion of the Cosmos

Astarlane was strangely calm. Yes, single combat almost never lasted more than a handful of seconds; yes, any mistake that she made now would almost certainly cost her life. And yet, as she pressed her attack, she allowed herself a grim smile. This one was a worthy opponent.

The orc behind the khopesh roared in response, charging into an overhead chop. There was no possibility of parrying; Astarlane swore and rolled to avoid it, and lost the initiative. The khopesh-wielder stepped back in, not so much leaping into an attack as wading in under the cover of continuous consecutive slashes that sliced and smashed against her flashing defense.

Astarlane's mind spun with the effort of holding against the onslaught of blows. She reached out with dark powers she rarely had reason to use, subtle forces that disturbed the physical constants of reality.

She drew his strikes into her parries, disrupted his timing with a blade that moved slightly faster than any natural object should.