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Rolled 4, 2 + 2 = 8 (2d4 + 2)
You go most of the way back to town then make a biggy circuit and bash through the forests a bit to keep hidden.
You haven't met anyone on the way back to Plague Town; the Humies haven't sent anyone else out from Mains.
You bash through greenery until you hit the road leading out from the Dedder Dump.
You don't see Moar Oww where you posted him; that means he's on the chase; means someone was sent orf.
You don't go far from there when you feel dat liddle prickle you get when Moar Oww's about. You follow the sensation until you find him, a bitty into the forest.
He addresses you before you can speak, without turning his hood to you. You can't imagine anyone trying to get a jump onnim.
<span class="mu-i">Goblin. They sent a horse car out from the back of the town. Two horses. Women and children, many sick; they've slowed.</span>
"<span class="mu-g">Wotcher. Aincher done 'em yet.</span>"
He makes the front of the black bedsheet shrivel a bit: he's still mostly neck and ribs, and short tentacles growing everywhichwhere like fingers with too many joints.
<span class="mu-i">Your doing.</span>
You smirk. "<span class="mu-g"> Yerr. Gibbed yez gudd dinnai, nehh.</span>"
The hood turns away, back to watching the stagecoach. The horses are barely cantering, the coach driver barely minding. You've Dusted them all <span class="mu-g">guuudd</span>
<span class="mu-i">Try it when I am regrown. Without Lord Yang's Parrying Sword. And every power of this body permitted.</span>
You guess that probably won't end well for you. But Hell if you'd ever admit it.
"<span class="mu-g">Whadevvah yez zey, bedsheetz. N wash yez mouf r sumn. Evertime yez talks I smellz my cock.</span>"
You get a feeling, like something that physically existentially can't laugh is laughing.
<span class="mu-i">. . . . . . yet everyday you pleasurably self-abuse using MY cock.</span>
That one got in your head; can't backsmack it quick enough to count. You're just going to take it out onva wimmin n childrin.
"<span class="mu-g">Ahh goww fuggz yerzelf, yez cummy pillowbag.</span>"
<span class="mu-i">. . . . . .Need I while you live?</span>
Oohh dem bichz n bratz are gonna take a <span class="mu-i">while</span> to die!
