Perdante, hitting the ground with a force she'd never known outside of being attacked by an Ogre, swore she heard one of her own ribs crack--or was that her spine? No, she was still very much alive, although hardly breathing. The wind had been utterly knocked out of her, and she knew this was the end...no. It was not. If I have to die, I'd rather die fighting than lying here helpless, she thought. May the Maker, the Paragons, the Qun, the Creators, or whoever and whatever higher power is out there in this cruel and meaningless universe bless me...
She suddenly felt a second wind fill her lungs and body. The young woman struggled to her feet, regained her balance as the darkspawn stared, and then rushed toward him in a berserker's most potent blood frenzy, screaming with rage. Her longsword and dagger were pointed directly toward her enemy's heart. Either she would pierce it, or she would perish.