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As it was, my blade, so lightly engaged in my earlier stroke, leapt up and easily parried the savage downward stroke of the mercenary's blade, a fierce, heavy, frenzied stroke which might have cut away the head of a saddle tharlarion. - (Avengers of Gor, Chapter 43, Sentence #85)

The first man I caught by the ankle as he tried to climb from the ditch, pulled him back down, and cut him across the back of the neck, swiftly and cleanly, no deeper than necessary, a warrior's stroke. At the same time I was peripherally aware that the third man had drawn his sword and was rushing toward me. I had expected him to run, which would have been his best option, in which case I would pursue him for a pace or two and launch my sword with an overhand hilt cast, hoping, if all went well, to penetrate his back below the left shoulder blade, after which one would hope to draw out the sword, turn the body, and plunge it in again. As it was, my blade, so lightly engaged in my earlier stroke, leapt up and easily parried the savage downward stroke of the mercenary's blade, a fierce, heavy, frenzied stroke which might have cut away the head of a saddle tharlarion. He then backed away, eyes wide. I suspected he knew what was soon to ensue. "You had your stroke," I said. - (Avengers of Gor, Chapter 43)