Your opponent is gigantic, the hulk of fibrous ropy vegetation and claws moves slowly, but the reach and relentless onslaught is hard to evade. You duck and roll under several arcing swings, but as you come up out of one attack, a backhand sees you flying across the space. You land hard. The A'Dendri are silent, but their mirth is obvious. This had been just what they were expecting. You feel like a sixty-seconder again. At least you will leave with your life, a rare consolation in your profession.