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Rolled 10, 3, 7 + 3 = 23 (3d12 + 3)
She's shriveled up like a raisin too, skin gray-y n saggy. But she's alive.
"<span class="mu-r">Lllove. Mmyy Lllove. Mmyy Kesss.</span>"
She goes on like a drunk nutter this way; you figger she's safe, being a blind, scorch-moufed nubbins. You almost reach in to get at the neck-manacle and the torso belt holding her in place, but then her head starts towards your hand without warning, and you remember the first bitey dedder you found in the Dedder Dumpz.
"<span class="mu-r">Kkesss. Kkesss.</span>"
"<span class="mu-g">Yowza. Mebbe lader, eh, slutt.</span>"
You make a ball gag out of knotted rope, hood her in some sacking, cut the restraints orf.
Immediately she gets livelier, wriggling like a wormy towards you. You open up the Pouch so that she topples in. Zip.
Now that you get a good looky at the mixt iron slab, you find that its the metal fixxens from the front of a biggy biggy door, like a fort. Or a cherch.
Where the nubbin nun's been tied over it is a Whitey crest, you guess from the old Cherch wot fell innada Pit.
From the looks of the grotty black stuff crusted on it, the nubbin nun has been sizzling like a porkrind in a waffle iron.
You take the cut the bolts holding the mixt iron slab to its stone blocks and let that topple innada Pouch too.
That done, you paint the whole cubby with your fermented pott of gobby glopp, a stench they will never divine nor exorcise.
A haunting more persistent and awful than the worst grudge-bearing ghost.
"<span class="mu-g">gnyerr hur hur hurrr... huekk... hur hur hur hur hu... uekk... gehh heh heh HEHHH uekkkk...</span>"
°°°
"Hmm. Pretty. Leave us."
You do, but spy from a safe distance.
You can't really make out what Seafood's doing, but it looks like his sorty majikk: blood squiggles n fings onna ground, scratchies and pokies, and paper pasties wiv reddy squiggles on. At one point Seafood takes out the Binny longsord you found inna Cherch Armory and starts waving it about, like he's slicing strings you carnt see. With every one the nubbin nun thrashes like she's getting whippt r sumn. You bet she'd be screaming, if Seafood hadn't rammed like a bogroll of paper pasties in her meof ahead of time.
With a last dervishy flourish that takes Seafood around and around the nubbin nun, he does an air-spinny like seven times and brings the Binny longsord down on the nubbin nun's head.
Upon which the sord shivers and shatters with a bright, clear <span class="mu-b"><span class="mu-s">TANG</span></span>, the pieces shredding greenery, slashing lumber. You duck a little late, but all the pieces miss you.
>whewww
>shiedddd
"TUDI."
>SHIDD.
"<span class="mu-g">Yas Sweetfudds?</span>"
"You have a pet, and I have a nanny. Feed her until she's recomposed."
"<span class="mu-g">Nerr. You wantz I fry sumn up? Or oats porrijj wiv snaylz in?</span>"
"Blood, idiot. Feed her blood. Perhaps twenty Living Men's worth. A white-jade beauty should prove useful while we walk among carnal Men."
>QMrollan Bluddslutt cost