He met him halfway, going for a quick one-two set of slashes, though the killer slipped between them with ease.
Without his sense of hearing, all he could rely on was sight. He locked onto the man, flipping his hold of his dagger, bringing it down preemptively.
The movement of the nameless one was predicted; a low dash for his midsection. He saw it coming, yet—
Clang.
As he brought his dagger down upon the back of the man's head, his arm stopped short. It was seen through; his wrist was grasped in the enemy's hold.
He attempted to yank himself free, though the man's fingers were like iron grips.
["Orcish Boost"]
His forearm bulged with a tremendous flash of strength as he yanked himself free, though immediately finding a silver line gliding across his vision.
