A good, solid hit to the man's thigh... but even though he's bloodied and limping, the noble refuses to fall. It's almost as if he's put all of his focus into giving himself more endurance than those around him, training himself to the point where he is damned hard to fell...<br/><br/>And that grin... that blood-soaked grin, beneath the mad eyes of a zealot. If there has ever been a clear sign of madness, that grin is it. And that grin is his shield as he lunges forward again, the beautiful, unstained blade of his rapier flickering towards your throat... and at long last, he finds a chink in your arcane armor, and you feel the cold steel dig a  deep track across your flesh. ((-6 HP))<br/><br/>