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<span class="mu-s">QUEST POST</span>
You don't waste time: despite what Dokk prefers, YOU prefer your scores settled.
Gorrlovva tried to volunteer you to the foot scouts to get you killt. You carnt be killt, now, but it'z the thought that counts.
You counting all the bitz you might cut orf him while jogging there, and jogg farsta.
You know where Sother Look is relative to the Foit Pitt Outfitters; once you're out of the thoroughfares you start running, sprinting.
>well well wellllll
You can sprint hard as you like, long as you like, you only get half-puffed at worst. You can keep up top speed in bursts, and not-quite-top-speed indefinitely. If you do a full sprint and keep it up until you can't, you only need to slow down a couple beatz, and you're good again.
>Mebbe
>I durnt even needter eet?
>r sleepp??
This changes a lot of things.
You're going to find out what they are.
All of them.
°°°
The run to Sother Look takes two Times.
It's changed.
A lot of the tents are fallen or gone. From what you can immediately see of the holding pitts, they're frozen over, more than half full of white snowy shardy ice.
A little bit into the camp and you have to start digging the kludge Dewclaws on your feet to keep from skidding.
>no one's salting
Where the UnderBossers' kips and tents used to be are a few log huts kludgily mortared with strawed mud, no windows, smoking from leaky holes at the top.
One hand on the Whapp, you kick one of the doors hard; doesn't open.
So you cut it open. It'z been wedged shut from the inside. There's only two Orcs in here, bumming; tally slats laying about in the corners, a pile of firewood, dry food, and a firemound, stingily nursed.
The cold wind storming in behind you nearly kills the fire. You kick some wood junk lying about to cover the hole you made; one of the Orcs passes you moar, to help you.
They had both wanted to trounce you, but your kit and your manner slowed them down just enough to think things fru. Yup: it's too cold and they're too starved to start shit.
"<span class="mu-r">Whurrz Gorrlovva. We gart bizniz.</span>"
The one that helped you just shruggz. The other is sulkily trying to keep the fire going. He fails.
You get out matches and candle stubs from Pouchy; the sulky one takes them without thanks, tries again.
"<span class="mu-r">What happened ter va diggz.</span>"
Sulky ignores you, busy. Shruggy just shrugs. You consider using Noiffy to make them squeal, but your heart's not really in it.
They're already cucked by cold and hunger; a stab in the thigh won't get much else out of them.
You pass some Thinneride around, generous by Greenie standards, not really by yours: you have an idea what to ask the Teacup for next, when the blu fayah grows back.
When they get some gudd gluggs down you arsk again.
"<span class="mu-r">Talk to me while I'z being noice, griggerz. Wot hapnt ter Gorrlovva. Wot hapnt ter va diggz.</span>"
Shruggy speaks first.
