Doubts in Stratholme (4)

Roderick put away the sword Prince Galin had given him. After piercing the Abomination's belly, the blade had failed to emerge from the monster's back. Heaven knew how much junk those damned necromancers had stuffed into its gut.

Thrusting and slashing were not particularly effective against Undead soldiers.

Seeing the creature seemingly about to swallow the sword into its own body, Roderick had no choice but to pull it out and sling it behind his back. He switched to the warhammer he knew best and continued attacking.

The huge, hideous monster was like a sack stuffed with flesh and blood. Every blow tore open a massive gash. Like a discarded, ruptured sack, once it had spewed out all its flesh and blood, the monster was left with nothing but a thin, ugly hide sprawled limply on the ground.

Bathed in gore, Roderick felt a faint stinging across his skin. The green flesh and blood the creature had sprayed must have been some highly toxic corrosive agent.

Ordinary human soldiers could only despair before such a monster. Creatures like this were far beyond what humans could handle.

Fortunately, due to the difficulty of creating them and the scarcity of materials, Abominations were not as widespread as Ghouls. Otherwise, the Scourge would have ruled Azeroth long ago.

Thank the Scourge. Their army had destroyed the entire city, yet had somehow left this clock tower, once used to tell the time, intact at the street corner.

Turning into a demolition worker, the paladin quickly smashed through the clock tower's supporting wall. The falling bricks buried a passing squad of Undead with a thunderous crash, completely blocking the narrow passage and buying him a chance to catch his breath.

Roderick seized the opportunity to clear out the other low-level Undead that had rushed over