This is his head

Says Nimtum, this orc in his cups, and he undoes his bag under the table and shows me this wide-eyed skull with rotting flesh hanging off.

"I saw he shoot you," says Nimtum, "so I crept up behind he and separated his neck."

I am surprised and revolted, but because I am drunk and grateful (and have seen worse) just say, "thanks, man."

Bêbe spits.

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