If i had the time (and the skill), I'd draw this as a comic strip.

Kanja lies gasping for air on the floor of the dusky chamber, sweat rolling down his chin, exhausted from the seemingly endless battle. Tirsel stands victorious before him, menacingly pointing his weapon towards his opponent.

- ¡Prepare to meet your maker, Kanja!
- Oh, but I HAVE met my maker Tirsel... - says Kanja with an almost contorted grin and a fiery gaze in his eyes
- You don't mean... - whispers Tirsel as he turns his back, his face suddenly pale and panic-stricken.

A crimson flash, a suffocated scream, and a loud thud. Kanja cleans the blood off his face, slowly stands up and grabs his foe's weapon; Tirsel's hand still attached to it.

- It was unwise to disregard a Prime's advice Tirsel, let alone his wrath...

(Draft)