The running madman, his gaze set entirely on the armored figure of the knight, did not notice the cook approaching, his hammer kept raised to strike the hated Morr.<br/><br/>Morr, meanwhile, finally managed to ram his sword through the gold-grafted skull of his adversary, the tainted flesh sizzling where the blade struck, the smell of charred flesh added to the stench of spilled blood as he tore the blade sideways out through the creature's head, it falling, twitching, to the ground, blood, brainmatter and pieces of gold flying everywhere,