Godhand watched hopelessly as the hulk got back to his feet, put a hand on either side of his jaw, and in one fell swoop got his skull back in the proper position. Sure, you could see that some of the roof of it had collapsed and some of the flesh on his scalp sank disgustingly into his head, but apart from that it was like he'd never taken a single one of Godhand's hits. The warrior spit out some of the blood that'd dribbled out of nostrils and into his mouth, ran up to the beast and kicked it in the side of the knee. The flash sunk in disgustingly, yet the creature didn't collapse even though the bone had quite clearly been broken. He grabbed the creature by the arm and pulled back so he'd face him, then ducked and drove his shoulder twice into it's stomach. It bent over, but it still didn't fall. Godhand hesitated but then ran past him, grabbed both of his shoulder and leapt, falling back and driving both knees into it's back. The thing fell back from the mercenary's pull, but it didn't seem as if the blow had affected it. Godhand grit his teeth and scissored his legs around Warson's waist, wrapping an arm around his neck and locking it in with his elbow to complete the rear naked choke.

Godhand stretched his back to it's limit trying to get as much force as he could into the choke, mercilessly stretching the beast's neck. And yet the result was negligible; Warson began to throw his weight from one side to the other until he managed to get his arm out and heft himself back to his feet, Godhand hanging on to his back all the while. The monster's decayed hands reached back, attempting to gain some sort of hold on the mercenary as he held on for dear life. He knew that if it managed to pry him off, it'd be over. It wasn't a clever creature; if it knocked him down it wouldn't be going for any technical locks to incapacitate him or cause pain. No, it would throw him to the ground and then stomp him in the chest until he stopped moving. And he would. His ribs weren't in any state to take that kind of punishment.

But then, just as Warson managed to catch a good grip on Godhand's forearm, something happened. It was like whatever was motivating him had been destroyed; the beast barely managed to support both it's weight and the mercenary's. It's legs got wobbly and he finally fell to his knees, where Godhand gratefully took the opportunity to push him forward and lock in the Camel Clutch. He reclined back as far as he could, his fingers interlocking with each other under Derris' jaw, and popped his hips with what little remained of his strength. Finally, the beast's head came off entirely and Godhand flew backwards holding the skull, not quite knowing what to do with it.

Godhand dropped it and gazed at the monster's motionless body, the moans of the undead and the screams of the guards providing a backdrop for him. He knew what he had to do. Unstrapping the sheath from his belt, he pulled out his blade and place the handle in his mouth. Then, aiming it's mouth downwards, he leapt forward and drove it into the beast's chest like a stake. It's disembodied head uttered a wordless groan, and then it was as if the creature's blood was being sucked into the vortex. The mass began to leave it's body until it's skin was like a grey, leathery cloth hung over a dessicated skeleton.

He had ignored the drow's shout earlier, consumed as he was with eliminating the Necromancer's flag bearer. But now that it was done, he turned back and saw the woman beset on all sides by the ravenous undead and somehow unable to protect herself. He pulled back his sheath from Warson's corpse, hoping it's reserves had been filled, took his Muramasa out of his mouth and sheathed it. And then, staring at the huntress who had wanted to kill him only a few minutes earlier, he drew his weapon and slashed in her direction.

A dull grey wave arched forth from the blade, and as it washed over the zombies they instantly fell into their final rest.