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It could have split apart the palings of the stockade, could have shattered the gate of the compound into a dozen pieces. - (Kur of Gor, Chapter 77, Sentence #280)

Too, it was of solid metal, and the blades were forged from the haft itself. A swift flight of this mighty tool swept toward Cabot and he sprang back. Such a blow would have cut off two legs. It could have split apart the palings of the stockade, could have shattered the gate of the compound into a dozen pieces. "You cannot escape," said Flavion, grinning, lurching after Cabot. "How long can you run, little thing? Do you call that little stick you carry an ax? You cannot even reach me with it! You are human! I am Kur! Close with me! Close with me! Hold still! Stand! Fight!" Cabot circled, as he could, to the left, looking for an opening, but now Flavion held the ax more closely, was more guarded in his movements, in his strokes, even poked at Cabot, trying to force him backward, to fall, or to pin him against the palings. The slave, braceleted at the post, jerked and jerked at the snug steel on her wrists. - (Kur of Gor)