To a child, this would have been a clash of titans. To Sasha, this was really dangerous! He was taking too long with this orc, others were ariving, he had to finish and move onto the next one. Fighters fight, warriors think. They were two unstoppable forces fighting against each other with one arm.. so why was he fighting with one arm?

Sasha didn't take a step back, he pulled back, using the orcs strength and weight to multiply with his own as he ripped the hand olding the sickle across his body while driving up a knee. THe cracking sound now resounded like a split chord of firewood as the warror started choking up on vomited blood. Green grass growing more verdant from the ichor of rusted copper.

"They really do bleed green, huh."

No time to ponder orcish anatomy, he took up the sickle in his one good hand and scanned the crowd while walking to his weapon. There, someone was flanking up on the source of the wild roots(Rem) and they were a crossbowman. Taking a single test of the weight, he let the weapon fly. 

Let's understand somethings here, Sasha is no thrower by professional skill and a sickle is not as aerodynamic as a chakram. But he is stronger than most and hopefully he can put enough power behind the throw to overcome his limitation and save a teamate. Even if he missed with the throw, he was already running behind it, catching the blade by the ring on the bottom with two fingers, he let the thirty pounds trail behind him like the tail of a dragon as he tried to close the distance.