Happy Life
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- Rrrrr... - Helmut squeezed his eyes shut, massaged his temples, and then grabbed the nearest household item and threw it at the wall. - Damn it! Bastard! Pus! Scum! Scumbag!
After that, in a fit of rage, he kicked the bucket of excrement. He took a deep breath and exhaled through tightly clenched teeth, his hand twitching convulsively on the hilt of his sword, and his gaze darted wildly around the interior of the hut. Finally, his gaze completed a full circle and stopped on a puddle of excrement. He took a stick, wrapped a rag around it, dipped it in the puddle, and then, as best he could, drew a schematic picture on the wall depicting a bearded Donarian Barbarian with a bow in one hand and an axe in the other, with his head cut off, taking a male reproductive organ into his mouth. Making sure that he didn't get splashed with this improvised paint, he turned to his companions.
- We're leaving. Villa, get ready. Mekriy, help her. Huliy, take the second one on your back and carry her until she recovers. Cover them with a sheet or a mat. It will be uncomfortable with the chain, but there's nothing we can do about it, Klinis will take it off. Gale, go ahead as usual, we'll follow in our tracks. Wigg, stay next to me, the good sergeant will help you walk. Forget about the women - I'll cut off your dick. And if I don't, it'll fall off on its own, like you'll catch sifaka. Those lousy, contagious, shit-covered Barbarians have been messing with them for weeks - wouldn't you be disgusted? I won't allow any misconduct towards the personnel. You'll get your salary, and you can get a prostitute. Or better yet, learn some manners, "hello," "please" - women are attracted to that. And wine with oranges.
The sergeant checked one last time to make sure everything that could be gathered had been gathered.
- Let's go southeast, straight to River. We've done everything we could in this situation. If it works, we'll meet this bastard again and kill him, and if not, then not. Let the gods find every cockroach hiding in the cracks and strike it down with lightning, what else can we expect from them.
"Damn civilians, may you be cursed."
After that, in a fit of rage, he kicked the bucket of excrement. He took a deep breath and exhaled through tightly clenched teeth, his hand twitching convulsively on the hilt of his sword, and his gaze darted wildly around the interior of the hut. Finally, his gaze completed a full circle and stopped on a puddle of excrement. He took a stick, wrapped a rag around it, dipped it in the puddle, and then, as best he could, drew a schematic picture on the wall depicting a bearded Donarian Barbarian with a bow in one hand and an axe in the other, with his head cut off, taking a male reproductive organ into his mouth. Making sure that he didn't get splashed with this improvised paint, he turned to his companions.
- We're leaving. Villa, get ready. Mekriy, help her. Huliy, take the second one on your back and carry her until she recovers. Cover them with a sheet or a mat. It will be uncomfortable with the chain, but there's nothing we can do about it, Klinis will take it off. Gale, go ahead as usual, we'll follow in our tracks. Wigg, stay next to me, the good sergeant will help you walk. Forget about the women - I'll cut off your dick. And if I don't, it'll fall off on its own, like you'll catch sifaka. Those lousy, contagious, shit-covered Barbarians have been messing with them for weeks - wouldn't you be disgusted? I won't allow any misconduct towards the personnel. You'll get your salary, and you can get a prostitute. Or better yet, learn some manners, "hello," "please" - women are attracted to that. And wine with oranges.
The sergeant checked one last time to make sure everything that could be gathered had been gathered.
- Let's go southeast, straight to River. We've done everything we could in this situation. If it works, we'll meet this bastard again and kill him, and if not, then not. Let the gods find every cockroach hiding in the cracks and strike it down with lightning, what else can we expect from them.
"Damn civilians, may you be cursed."
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
