Your sword squeals across the segmented plates of the ratman's armor; the finely forged tip raking off a pair of the scales and slashing the black fur beneath. Yellowed, bloodshot eyes stare hatefully back at you. He must understand the Queekish - he must. He seems too insane to respond. But if he is mad, he has only fallen into a well of the normal malice these creatures possess; limitless spite for what is good in the world, hate for humanity, love of suffering. He breaks from his momentum of combat to offer a spittle flecked bark past your shoulder to Cestié and Bella; a warning for them to stay of the combat. You have no doubt that if they joined, he would attack them, because they are obviously weaker than you.
Bella stands guard; Cestié reloads his crossbow; and the Stormvermin comes for you again.
Spoiler: OOC:Stormin' Norman:
vs45 - (1d100)[84] for (1d10+5)[9]
and vs45 - (1d100)[78] for (1d10+5)[14].
He has taken 4 wounds.
Edit: The rain falls on the righteous and the wicked alike. Double whiff.