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Rolled 6, 12 = 18 (2d20)
>33-7= 26 Days Orf remaining
Once you got everfin sorted you get your Droogz in for a huddle.
"<span class="mu-r"> Roit ya cunts, lissin up. Boog's boiz are lurkin on me, and I gotz bizniz orf frummere. Here's what I'z needz frum yez Droogz: take orf yez Qually Kludgies and givvem ere, I'll gives yez sum cloffy wunz instead, wivva biggy shank or bashy.
"When yez get out dis tent, yez go three different ways, inter va Gobby hoodz. When yez stops seein Orcs, chuck everfin yez have on and scarper.
"Mma be back seven suns n moons frum narr, right here. Drar a froggy on sumn n show me, so I'z knows it'z yez. If yez makes it, ye'll get yer Qually Kludgies back, anna noo noiff. Savvy?</span>"
Pork Hos has a question. "<span class="mu-g">How'll we know it'z yez, Bozz?</span>" The other two swat at him, saving you the trouble.
"<span class="mu-g">Bosser's all redd. Of curz we'll knowum. Azz.</span>"
DirtyNuggz haz a kuncern.
"<span class="mu-g"> WE'z sortid, but whatbhat yez? How's yez bustn out?</span>"
You smirk.
"<span class="mu-r">Gudd kesshun. Nut tellen. Narr fuggoff. Yez s'posed ter drar va heat orf me.</span>"
After sending them off, you wait a little, start a small fire on green wood to raise smoke, filling the tent.
Then you <span class="mu-b">{POPUP}</span>.
° ° °
You poof somewhere dark yet airy; a covered wicker basket wiv cloffs in, mostly empty; a bumpy, rattling ride.
"You've returned early, Tudi. Come out. We're alone."
"<span class="mu-r">Yers, Sweetfudds.</span>"
You get out of the basket onto the floorboards of a small covered wagon drawn by an old nag horse. At least it <span class="mu-i">looks</span> old and naggish; you're fairly sure Seafood's already done sumn to it, to make the most of his money.
Along with some bookbags and dry provisions are several sets of Humie sized kludgy armor, some decent below average sords n spears.
Where Seafood's sitting is a garland of gnarlac, a bag of nunyuns and taters, anna clutch of wee bitty shrivlly heddz wiv theys eyes sowd shut, n meofs stuffed wiv stuffs. They twitch a little as you watch; they try to face you; theys stretched meofs move a little. And little needly squigglies seem to press out under their skin. They scream into their geggs, which you think might be baalz n poobz. You're not sure if Seafood stuffed them with their own or each others'. Which would be worse is a philosophic question for anuvva time.
"<span class="mu-r">I'z killt lotsy lots Seafudds. I've twigged the whole Furd Moulting. Annah gotz ya souvie lewtz.</span>"
You show him the effie charms you got from the Wich Dok's and the biggy sack of Rokks first.
"Hmm. So even they play at magic. Amusing trifles." Out of your bag of gems he immediately picks out thirteen, hands them to you.
"The rest are worthless."
As the wagon trundles on into the sunset the nag speeds up a little. You stop feeling hoofbeats, and the rattling road.
Against the sound of a slow night wind, Seafood begins to teach you the complex formulae of the Fourth Moulting.
>QM rollan Speshul Offer Stuffs cost
