You hear a distant voice and color is returning to your surroundings. The voice is next to your and sounds urgent.
“Come on! Wake up! We need to go!”
You see the concerned face of a human woman over you, as she tries unsuccessfully to shake your massive shoulder.
“Can you hear me? I killed one!” The woman is almost sobbing. “The others could be here any second!”
You force yourself to sit up. Your head is pounding and you feel groggy. Your hands and stomach are tightly wrapped in bandages. The smell of mindflayer hangs in your nostrils. You turn toward the source and see one of your captors lying dead on the floor in a puddle of black blood, a shortsword, the same goblin’s shortsword that stabbed you, buried nearly hilt-deep into its tentacled mouth. The site of the dead mindflayer finally stirs you into action. You heave yourself up to your hooves and stagger after the woman, who is already leaving the room.
You catch up to her as she gingerly pulls a shortsword out from under the goblin that you trampled to death. You still smell mindflayers down the passage that the goblins had come from.
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