With urgency and alacrity, Tycondrius grabbed onto the Archbishop's collar, swinging her aside with the momentum.
Natalya crashed to the ground... ungently.
A sharp blur sliced through the space where her head would have been.
Unfortunately, Natalya did not see just how he saved her from severe harm. Afterward, Tycon thought it very likely that she was going to be *very* upset with him.
Tycon shot his left hand forward, gripping the magically-concealed humanoid's neck. Shifting his balance to the side, back, and then forward, he slammed the creature onto the meeting table.
Delicate green and gold shards of magic shimmered in the air, reminiscent to torn and powdered faerie wings. As the magic dissipated, the hidden attacker pinned to the table was revealed to be a woman.
The sweet scent of Orkish sugar filled his nostrils as Tycon scrutinized the enemy's form.
