[Altaïr swings his sword and one of the ghouls loses a leg at the knee — if nothing else, it won't walk or run after any other victims, though it can still crawl. Then there's a shhng sound as he unsheathes his hidden blade and plunges it through the eyes of three more undead in rapid succession.
Even that doesn't truly kill them; his lip curls in disgust at the sight of them still moving. But whether they can feel pain or know it only as an echo from the life their bodies once held, the grievous wounds do at least slow them down.
Some of the local fighters have fled or staggered back, nearly as shocked by the brutality of his fighting as they were the presence of the ghouls. Fewer people to worry about, at least. Altaïr crouches and grasps for his companion's arm, trying to help even if he doesn't know what's wrong.]
no subject
Even that doesn't truly kill them; his lip curls in disgust at the sight of them still moving. But whether they can feel pain or know it only as an echo from the life their bodies once held, the grievous wounds do at least slow them down.
Some of the local fighters have fled or staggered back, nearly as shocked by the brutality of his fighting as they were the presence of the ghouls. Fewer people to worry about, at least. Altaïr crouches and grasps for his companion's arm, trying to help even if he doesn't know what's wrong.]
Can you move? Get up?