Striking another, and another, and another again again again again<br/><br/>Morr didn't know how much time had been gone, he had charged in and simply struck. Again and again and again. Nothing else mattered anymore, not the lack of feeling he had in his left arm, not the fact that his right foot was almost cut off, forcing him to perpetually kneel, not the fact that he was 'standing' atop a mountain of the corpses that had been his charges.<br/><br/>Not even the fact that there was nothing left to strike.<br/><br/>Just kneeling there, attacking nothing but air, his eyes glazed over in blind nothingness.<br/><br/>That was how he was found, atop a mountain of corpses, still attacking enemies that were not there, the beasts, without a leader to aim their foul desires, having slaughtered eachother in a mindless berserk-rampage after having butchered the remaining soldiers, ignoring the single remaining knight except for a few.