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I could sense the intense, weird odors of pain uncarried by his translator which now filled the chamber. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 27, Sentence #261)

And when the swift living blade of Sarm was still a full yard from my throat it met the lightning steel of a Gorean blade that had once been carried at the siege of Ar, that had met and withstood and conquered the steel of Pa-Kur, Gor's Master Assassin, until that time said to be the most skilled swordsman on the planet. A hideous splash of greenish fluid struck me in the face and I leaped aside, in the same movement shaking my head and wiping the back of my fist across my eyes. In an instant I was again on guard, my vision cleared, but I saw that Sarm was now some fifteen yards or more away and was slowly turning and turning in what must have been some primitive, involuntary dance of agony. I could sense the intense, weird odors of pain uncarried by his translator which now filled the chamber. I returned to the place where I had struck the blow. To one side I saw the bladed projection lying at the foot of one of the low stone tiers on which Priest-Kings stood. Sarm had thrust the stub of his foreleg beneath his shoulder and it seemed frozen there in the coagulating green slush that emanated from the wound. - (Priest-Kings of Gor)