Chapter 16 - The Outer God #4

"Holy dog shit. Fuckitty fuck fuck. I'll get you bastards. Someday." I yelled. My Burlap sack bounced from wagon to shoulder to some pack animal. I am loot now.

The innards of Goblinsville were boisterously noisy; at least, that's where I thought I was.

I saw little green shapes waddle about. Some of them were pointing and laughing, just like in high school.

I bounced around for hours until a bone knife tore through the fabric. The first thing I saw was an emblem of a decapitated clown. Figures.

"Never thought I'd see you so soon again." Sergei smiled. We were in the middle of an alley where the buildings were made of clay, wood, and stone.

"Did you let those morons pimp me off?" I stared.

"We just got shit on by that imitator mini-boss. We'll take anything we can get. So, we heard that you wanted to try out?" Sergei patted me on the back.

"Frick off. What did you promise them?" I asked.

Sergei wordlessly took out a fake mustache, and I understood.

"How long until you think they get found out?" I scratched my head.

"The town's forgotten about them a long time ago."

"What?"

"The imitator is abducting a dozen goblins a day. That's how it goes, and he only lets one go when he grabs a super short player instead." Sergei responded, and suddenly the existence of Playerkill gorge made sense.

All the primitive, muddy rustic homes of Goblinsville lined up neatly, save for random decimated wrecks, where nothing remained of its inhabitants, like the aftermath of carpet bombing.

"How do you suppose we deal with that fucker?" I pondered.

"We'll do something we haven't done since courting our first loves."

"What?" That was a frame of reference no one understood.

"Strategize." He spoke, and shivers of despair ran down our backs.

"I don't know about your guild, but in my old party, there were three brain cells between the five of us. Of course, they were all mine, but those fuckers did rob me silly when they Judas'ed me, didn't they?" I monologued, showing off my empty pockets and inventory. I made the mistake of trusting the leadership of individuals who have never been on the business or consumer end of a good decision.

"Hmm... you may be right. Fuck it, let's talk it over dinner. We also got an extraordinary guest." Sergei shrugged, secretly nudging me.