The greenskin chieftain struck with the speed and fury of a summer storm. His blow fell like a thunderbolt, but the elf was simply not there. Moving with a swiftness that blurred sight, he moved around the orc's strike, and his own blade bit home into the orc's upper arm. The creature bellowed with fury and aimed a stroke that would have decapitated the slim elf had it connected. Teclis ducked to one side, executing what seemed almost a courtly bow, and the blade passed above his head. His return stroke was driven upwards with all the force of an uncoiling spring. It bit into the orc's ribs, drawing greenish blood. Only the orc chief's own lightning swiftness had kept the blade from burying itself in his bowels.
Strokes passed between the two almost too fast for Felix's eye to follow. The elf gave ground gracefully, moving backward like water flowing over stone. The orc pursued, grunting mightily, until he was almost past Felix. In his fury, his concentration was entirely on the mocking elf who danced away taunting him in his own language and who was slowly inflicting a dozen small cuts on him with his ripostes.