The attacker's sword runs him through.

Homes blazed and swords ran with blood.

A sword had no parts to go wrong, never ran out of ammo, and didn't need to recharge for two minutes between use.

He stormed aft, snatching his sword and dagger free as he ran.

The sword ran through his middle and pinned him to the wooden door like some macabre Christmas wreath.

Puzzlement broke Standish's concentration, but he managed to block Brigham's thrust before the sword could run home.

Her sword had run him through.

When a sword runs through you, your bowels open and you die in your own stink.

But even as my sword ran through his throat I was bowled aside in a flash of scarlet, and slammed winded against the wall.

Halberds struck men down, swords ran them through, muskets were discharged at them.