Two warriors

The black orc leader was awestruck. Never before had he seen such cohesion. The two warriors fought as a single creature, complementing one another's fighting styles. The armored soldier’s massive sword swung in wide arcs like a deadly pendulum, the steel humming grimly with each deadly cut through the air. He would have been an easy target, each of his attacks granting openings for the warboss' thugs, were it not for his smaller companion. The lithe form danced around the giant of a man, keeping his blind spot secured. Clinging to the big one like a living shadow, the weak spots were filled with quick flashes of metal that promised swift death to those bold enough to get too close. Poor bastards died before they even met the ground, the warboss thought darkly. He watched with begrudging respect the deadly dance thin his numbers within mere moments, and soon only a few of the two dozen raiders remained. The rest lied scattered around the two warriors; orc bodies mangled with wounds both big and small while neither human had suffered a scratch. The ones still alive hesitated, their wide-eyed stares darting between their leader and the superior fighters. The warboss swallowed bitterly. His confidence had been decimated along with his troops and now he faced a decision between dying at the hands of these two and running away. Neither option was to his liking.

Writer's comment: Here's another oldie I came up with one day. It's more like a description of a situation, but still. I hope you like. :)