(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Steam spurted shrilly from his vents.
WHEEEEEEEE!!!
The bolts flew from Nordom's crossbows in a storm of missiles,
three-pronged and barbed, designed for piercing armor. They peppered
Vhailor's body, dressed him in dozens of quills that staggered him as my fire
and lightning seared seared away. For a moment it seemed as if it would be
enough. He crumpled, steaming with streaks of fire, crackled with electricity.
Metal creaked and warped under the strain. Spiderweb cracks began to
grow where the bolts had pierced.
But he stood, lumbering, shouldering aside the magics that raged against
him. With one swing he knocked Nordom aside. With another I felt my
bones sunder, stunned at the odd sensation of numbness as my severed arm
flew aside, twitching on the ground. The momentum of the strike knocked
me from my feet, and a deep-throated scream rumbled from my throat as I
felt the axe fall again, cleaving through the joint of my other shoulder. A
heavy boot kicked aside my other arm. Vhailor turned away, leaving me
gurgling in agony as he made towards Grace.
"We're not finished, Vhailor..." I coughed. My boots scraped against the
blood-slick floor as I tried to stand. It only served to nudge me towards the
wall.
Grace knelt beside Dak'kon, hands on his knee. The warm light of her faith
flooded around his leg. She looked up even as her lips murmured the prayer,
features calm even as the avatar of justice stormed towards her.
"Vhailor, you lumbering abomination! I was your greatest prey, and I killed
you long ago!"
That got his attention.
Vhailor stormed over to me, dragging me up by the sash of bone I wore. He
stood me upright, slamming me against the wall with one hand. The blade of
his axe was raised in the other. His gaze burned into mine silently.
"That's right, Vhailor. Your final crusade. You hounded me through the
planes because of my crimes, because suffering trails in my wake like a jilted
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