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The next 'un's up. He gives you time to extract your stikkblade out of Bichtitz' backside and wipe it orf on the loser's tuckeroos.
Already the Gobbos are inching up behind you, waiting for you to turn your attention away so they can drag the weakly struggling Loser into their midst and eat him.
Not everyday they get to eat good dense meat; you kill makes it their kill, in a way, and their ravenous spite is YOUr ravenous spite, in a way. You don't have the stomach to eat a whole Orc alive; they do. Kind of an equal trade really.
You finish wiping off the stikkblade, throw some dert on it to make the grip good, take Stance.
One beat's grace, then you both charge.
>Toady Attack 94+10 VS NOOBLOL 8
>HIT 29 Dmg
>= 1/30HP
>NOOBKEK Attack 54 VS Toady 83+2
>M-M-M-MISS
The first grigger hadn't done well tryna chop down at yer, so this one's swinging wild, side to side.
You do a little dancing, swaying to soundless contrary wind, then leap <span class="mu-i">into</span> his swing, using the force of it to hup yourself off the ground, then throwing your own gained momentum into his opened arm, taking it off at the elbow.
He screams of course, then brings up a smally backup noiff from his back - but you've already climbed up his back, standing on the shoulder with the chopped arm.
He might still hit you if he tries; he feels <span class="mu-b">Daggy</span> pressing on his froat, warm red flowing down it. He looks into your eyes. You can nearly ready his throughts: he thinks you're going to shake your head in a slow cautionary no.
You nod vigorously and cheerily instead.
"<span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-i">Yyerrrs</span>, faggit. <span class="mu-i">Pleez</span> waste moi toim.</span>"
He drops the noiff, groaning through gritted teef as you scalp him. This 'un's tuffer, but not by much.
By the time you jump off him, his arm's vanished into the crowd to a series of scrunches. The Gobbies eat with their meofs open, a feast for their eyes and tumtums. Dinner theater.
