Yslenor's attacker was<i>savage.</i>Their fight was one of contrast, her own movements elegant and precise, and his brutal and heavy. Every attack her opponent threw at her Yslenor<i>dodged,</i>but always within a hair's breadth- slow and cumbersome and<i>furious</i>as he was, the man(?) had a warrior's instincts, likely forged through a lifetime of war and struggle.<br/><br/>Changing tact, the Snow Elf dove to the side from a heavy swing of the brutish axe and fell into a steady retreat, putting her back to a, ancient, ruined wall. The monster's scowl told her she'd judged well, and he charged, thinking her cornered. Feigning indecision, it wasn't until the last moment she matched his advance, tackling him at the waist and dragging him downwards. The pair fell in a tangle of limbs, and the axe-heavier than her sword- hit the ground with a<i>thump,</i>kicking up dirt. Yslenor picked herself up, stabbed down and pierced the east through his heart, before backing off from the body, panting.<br/><br/>She hadn't time to savor her victory, however, before the footfalls of more warriors came, and Yslenor pushed further into the ruins, sword sheathed and bow drawn once more as she darted from wall to wall, trying to keep herself hidden as best as she could in what had quickly become a battlefield.<i>"Find the others," </i>She told herself. The Orcs were fighting someone- she needed to regroup with them.