The axe slammed into the Drow's buckler once again, the Dwarf preparing quickly for the return assault. The lithe Drow danced easily around the slow-moving Dwarf, but trying to get through the thick plate that he wore proved to be a more difficult task. After yet another blow from her scimitar was deflected handily, she shouted a curse of frustration – something about Dwarves mating with Elementals in the past. The small delay was all the Dwarf needed. Finding the opening he was looking for, he swung his axe as he was taught: swing it hard, swing it fast, and try to cleave through the rock behind the opponent. The tactic, if it could be called that, was effective; the axe struck true. The Dwarf, his eyes and smile wide with the excitement of battle, took a step back to fully appreciate the sounds of victory – the clanging of blades and the thump of the Drow's lifeless body collapsing as they hit the floor, her head following shortly thereafter.
"Nothin' wrong with fightin' drow – just takes so damn long with all their dancin' around. Cuttin' into my drinkin' time." His danger sense tingling, he spun around to find two more rushing at him from the shadows. "Ah, blast. More dancers." He again assumed a defensive posture, thinking about the assignment that had let him here in the first place. "Guard duty – Hah! They should call this Drow attrition duty!"