Therdon wiped the blood from his eye, keeping his gaze locked on his opponent. The dwarf's lungs pumped to feed his aching muscles; he no longer felt the axe gripped in his rough, scarred hands. Only the weight of it pulling on his exhausted arms assured him it had not fallen to the ground. A knot was forming in his right thigh from a blow that had nearly cost him his life. Therdon was in trouble. Therdon watched the look of confidence grow in Colthrun's face as his limp grew more pronounced. Let Colthrun enjoy his confidence, he thought, let him smell victory. "Hey Ther, what's this?"