[H3][right][b]O L A   A L - F A R E S[/b][/right][/h3][hr]

Ola drew the sword fully through the trolls leg, the sharpened steel parting the rotting flesh and bone with barely a tug at her arm. It made her shudder inwardly and her nose wrinkled at the stench of the beast. Severing its tendon had a two fold effect; it slowed the troll down, but also caused it to lurch sideways and slam a hand down to maintain any semblance of balance as it launched the vile, green and black loogie she had ever seen. 

She was unable to follow the projectiles flight path, she was top busy dodging the crashing fist. She was close, maybe to close, the only danger of being a melee fighter when you ran into something undead. Mud spattered her face and cloak and she spat to try and clear the taste even as she scrambled back to put a even a few feet of distance between herself and the huge rotting hand.

Only once she had gained a bit of purchase in the mud did she flourish her sword, sending the remnants of her first cut splattering into the mud away from her new allies, and then hack two handed at the arm that was in the mud. If she could sever another limb it might bring the creature down low enough for someone to destroy its other brain. Unless she was mistaken, and had certainly happened from time to time, if they destroyed the brains, the undead would cease to function.