The rat, between its frenzy and its recklessness, was pummeled and beaten thoroughly by the monk's onslaught. The strikes delivered by staff and fist beat against its flesh with frightening efficiency, its twisted and warped body no match for its own frantic attack that made it more vulnerable and the spark of deadly focus it had ignited in its once near-death enemy. It turned to recoil, to retaliate at the orc-blooded man, to add more crimson to his stained clothes but with one prayer the once divinely gifted holy warrior found his hand guided. It may have been circumstance, that the creature they focused upon just happened to be in the right place at the right time, but for a man grasping with his old beliefs and the promise of returning to favor of a god who seemed not to scorn him nearly as much as he thought, it was pure divinity.

The sword sliced, just as it should have, and it cut a narrow channel in the bloated monster's flesh. Red welled up from the wound and slid down the steel's fuller, running on to the hilt. Were he an ill informed, ill experienced fighter the wet that flitted his leather and metal grasp would have upset his backstroke, particularly in the frantic close quarters. Indeed his tired body struggled with the motion but he was alive again with conviction at the smiting he delivered. It would have bewildered Renault had he the time to think, that he could truly be doing something so just as slaying rats, but a sensation crept into his mind that had not struck him in a long, many years.

This rat was [i]evil[/i].

Not just common vermin, some hungering scum that fed upon carried and refuse that only served as prey to far worse things. Rather, no man of the holy could strike any creature with such force and conviction as that were it not truly evil. Erithar had heard him, he was sure of it, and he was sure now of his place in vanquishing this creature. This flash of enlightenment faded, the reality of their grim, panicked combat in the barely lit den of the broodmother settled in on him as he had the wherewithal to sidestep his comrade as a hammer rose overhead. So too did the half orc pull a punch, one arm slung at his side and the other halfway, realizing not to interfere with de Brey who threw himself into the attack. The hammer missed, the soldier's hands retrieving it as they slid down the weapon's shaft and handled the recoil, and it served as a reminder that as hastily as they needed kill this [i]monster[/i], they dare not be as reckless as it.

[hider=Effects]
Beaumont rediscovers his ability to [i]Smite Evil[/i], informing him that this [i]dire rat[/i] is no ordinary vermin as the others. He, like Gorosk, successfully land their attacks thanks to the myriad of bonuses they are receiving from the creature having charged, it being flanked, and it raging. Quentin de Brey missing his warhammer attack, however, but avoids rolling the worst he could in the process.[/hider]
[@BangoSkank][@Hellion][@Lord Wyron][@TyrannosaursRex]