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<blockquote data-quote="larryfinnjr" data-source="post: 5679313" data-attributes="member: 99210">Falkrunn dances around the side of Whack and takes him apart, opening the flaming orc up wide from neck to navel.&nbsp;Hatchet follows up with his own 1-2 slice-and-dice, sending Bash off to join the faithfully departed in the orcish afterlife. Leaving just a bloody, burnt Smash.&nbsp;&quot;I geev it up!&quot; he pleads in broken King's, &quot;We wait for peoples here. Keep lawbodies out. We told easy job! Please, I take you to bossman? I say great story of killing, power! Yes? .... No?&quot;&nbsp;Stepping from the smouldering remains, Hatchet laughs. &quot;Sure you lousy excuse for a gate guard. Sure, 'take us to your leader,' the great and powerful Stump, right?&quot;&nbsp;Smash's eyes go wide. &quot;Stump! Yes! He finds food and gold and food... and food for us! And gold! Stump thinks....&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Stump thinks?&quot; Hatchet&nbsp;&quot;Yes.&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Thinks what?&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Thinks what?&quot; Smash queries in reply.&nbsp;&quot;What does Stump think??&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Sometimes,&quot; comes the barely-intelligent answer.&nbsp;Shaking his head to clear the growning ache between his temples, Hatchet turns to you. &quot;Ok. Stop. Nevermind. Yes, let's go see Stump.&quot;&nbsp;Turning to you, he continues, &quot;Well, I've no beef with a street thug who otherwise could have been killed by a rabid dog. Irregardlessly, thanks for the help there. Only so many nicks and scratches a man can take before death of a thousand paper cuts overwhelms.&quot; He takes out a small vial from inside his cloak, pops the cork with his thumb, and knocks back the contents in two large gulps, tossing the glass into the brush. &quot;Oh yeah, hits the spot. Not quite the kick of a decent barrel of Klemcha'a, but it'll have to do.&quot;&nbsp;&quot;You chums headed into town? Lookin' for work, no doubt. Me and Jeeves here,&quot; thumbing his partner's corpse on the ground, &quot;were headed to see ol' Stumpy on a job of our own...looks like I'll be gettin' his share of the take.&quot; He reaches down to pull the leather backpack off Jeeves and slips it over his shoulder.&nbsp;[sblock=FOR MAL'S EYES ONLY]A small teddybear slips the remaining way out of the bag as Hatchet picks it up. It remains covered by most of the orc bodies in the way, its faux fur scorched in numerous places. Hatchet apparently didn't see it. [/sblock]&nbsp;&quot;Comon. Lemme buy you guys a drink...&quot; And he starts off toward Bloomten on foot, prodding the sullen Smash ahead of him.&nbsp;[gm] Time for any intermittant banter you like. When it looks like you're done, you'll arrive in town. [/gm]</blockquote>

[QUOTE="larryfinnjr, post: 5679313, member: 99210"] Falkrunn dances around the side of Whack and takes him apart, opening the flaming orc up wide from neck to navel. Hatchet follows up with his own 1-2 slice-and-dice, sending Bash off to join the faithfully departed in the orcish afterlife. Leaving just a bloody, burnt Smash. "I geev it up!" he pleads in broken King's, "We wait for peoples here. Keep lawbodies out. We told easy job! Please, I take you to bossman? I say great story of killing, power! Yes? .... No?" Stepping from the smouldering remains, Hatchet laughs. "Sure you lousy excuse for a gate guard. Sure, 'take us to your leader,' the great and powerful Stump, right?" Smash's eyes go wide. "Stump! Yes! He finds food and gold and food... and food for us! And gold! Stump thinks...." "Stump thinks?" Hatchet "Yes." "Thinks what?" "Thinks [I]what?[/I]" Smash queries in reply. "What does Stump think??" "Sometimes," comes the barely-intelligent answer. Shaking his head to clear the growning ache between his temples, Hatchet turns to you. "Ok. Stop. Nevermind. Yes, let's go see Stump." Turning to you, he continues, "Well, I've no beef with a street thug who otherwise could have been killed by a rabid dog. Irregardlessly, thanks for the help there. Only so many nicks and scratches a man can take before death of a thousand paper cuts overwhelms." He takes out a small vial from inside his cloak, pops the cork with his thumb, and knocks back the contents in two large gulps, tossing the glass into the brush. "Oh yeah, hits the spot. Not quite the kick of a decent barrel of [I]Klemcha'a[/I], but it'll have to do." "You chums headed into town? Lookin' for work, no doubt. Me and Jeeves here," thumbing his partner's corpse on the ground, "were headed to see ol' Stumpy on a job of our own...looks like I'll be gettin' his share of the take." He reaches down to pull the leather backpack off Jeeves and slips it over his shoulder. [sblock=FOR MAL'S EYES ONLY] A small teddybear slips the remaining way out of the bag as Hatchet picks it up. It remains covered by most of the orc bodies in the way, its faux fur scorched in numerous places. Hatchet apparently didn't see it. [/sblock] "Comon. Lemme buy you guys a drink..." And he starts off toward Bloomten on foot, prodding the sullen Smash ahead of him. [gm] Time for any intermittant banter you like. When it looks like you're done, you'll arrive in town. [/gm] [/QUOTE]

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