Butler- Mace Vs Troll

  The human twirled the mace as though it were a cheerleader's baton, ramming it home between the troll's shoulder blades. A blow like that, while not fatal, certainly distracted the troll from its intended victim.

  Butler planted his foot just above the creature's haunches and tugged the weapon free. It relinquished its grip with a sickly sucking sound. He skipped backwards, settling into a defensive stance.
...
  'One step at a time. Nice and slow. Easy there, big fellow.'

  You could almost see it in the troll's eyes. A flicker of uncertainty. Maybe this human was…

  And that was when Butler struck. He danced under the tusks, hammering home a devastating uppercut with his medieval weapon.

  The troll staggered backwards, talons flailing wildly. But it was too late: Butler had stepped out of reach, scooting across to the other side of the corridor.

  The troll lumbered after him, spitting dislodged teeth from pulped gums. Butler sank to his knees, sliding and turning, the polished floor bearing him like an ice skater. He ducked and pirouetted, facing his pursuer.

-Artemis Fowl, Chapter 8