Minimal options, none attractive. But his proximity to the World Spirit had at least given him a moment to act as they pulled their charge, afraid of smashing into their venerated ancestral tomb.
Trazyn slid left, past the first lance tip.
Before the warrior could swing the long weapon around, Trazyn gripped the haft and tore the tattooed Aspect Warrior from his saddle. He watched the rider’s face twist as he fell from the mount, long hair flying free and hands sheltering his face as he tumbled to the bone floor.

The Infinite and the Divine