The Blackfur steps, jukes, and tries to weave - but it's against the edge of the roof now. The best it can do against the head-splitting, downward blow is tuck its head in - and the edge of your sword smashes the crest of the helm, which them falls in two rusty parts off his scalp.

He lets out a new sound, now; a pitiful warbling sound - what fear might make, if it was being eaten from the ankles up by hate... and tries his luck once more.

Spoiler: OOC:
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vs13 - (1d100)[26] for (1d10+4)[7] Maso
vs20 - (1d100)[1] for (1d10+3)[11] Bella

Norman!
vs45 - (1d100)[41] for (1d10+5)[6]
vs45 - (1d100)[54] for (1d10+5)[12]