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I said "Forty, at least..." Then, assassins appeared from all four sides... I looked at them... then an arrow hit me... Another one... Another... I felt terrible pain... The arrows were probably poisoned... I collapsed... Then I heard... "You were only a burden to us..." I was still writhing in unbearable pain... But I remained silent... I stopped moving... Then the executioner approached me, drew his sword, and cut off my head... I died... My body was not given a proper burial or cremation; they simply threw it into some ditch or swamp, where it remained to rot...
Hey, what's up, brother? A peasant-gnome poured a bucket of water on you. What happened? You were writhing like that. Did you inhale some smoke from a burning cannabis field?