“So I tell ye, this - Oy, jackhole, ye listenin’, eh?”
“Course I am. Get on with it, yeh?”
“Like ye’re ogglin’ the wildlife, ye cockshite.
Neh, this goblin was down on all fours cryin’ like a baby goat, piddlin’ its loincloth, cudgel in hand, and I’m just standin’ there with me blade pointed.
Thing don’t speak a lick of Imperial, so I’m tryin’ me best to draw it a picture, eh?”
“No sign of the caravan, yeh?”
“Was busy gettin’ me fookin’ loot on. Neh, saw rocks all out there. Was woodsy, n’I was drunk.”
"You were drunk? Well knock me down with a brisk wind. Guess the mangy wee-orcs probably ate ‘em, the lousy fuckers.”
“Aye. Saw a leg-bone in the fire pit. Nothin’ else ‘round, save a pile of bear shite. Was headin’ out when I saw one of them goblins pissin’ on a tree.”
“Lemme guess, you pulled your dick out and joined it?”
“Fook off. Naw, sidled up nice and quiet-like and put a knife in its kidney. Squealed like a stuck rat while it bled to death.
Was just mindin’ me own business, cleaning off me knife, when lo and be-fookin’-hold, there’s another one right next to me I didn’t see.
Soombitch picks up a stick and shakes it at me like a carnie shakin’ his cock in Central Square for change.
Takes one look at me dagger and pisses himself, drops to his knees, and starts with the cryin’ an’ screamin’.”
“Yeh. Scared li’l fuck, I betcha?”
“A’feared like a newborn with no tit to grab and yer Uncle Martin in the next room.”
“They do call me a cunning linguist.
Neh, it starts screamin’ bloody murder when I step up to it to shank it good, and I shite ye not, two more come round the corner and spot me with me knife in its gullet.”
“Well, shit. You made it out alive, yeh? You’re here n’all.”
“I fooked right outta that place an’ never looked back, leavin’ whatever haul behind. Worst part is, spotted a shiny silver necklace on one of the ones I killed.
Buncha green-skinned coonts can’t even die proper ‘thout causin’ a tizzy.”
“The robbing and plundering trade’s working out real well for you, yeh?”
“Why you do that, eh? End everytime ye speak with that donkey arse shite ‘yeh’? Somethin’ ye learned on yer farm, ‘yeh’? Out at sea, ‘yeh’? Or maybe over in Kalvarro, ‘yeh’? In the slums, ‘yeh’?
“Can’t all be as educated as your yokel twat arse, yeh? Fucking dwarves, always with your self-righteous cock-mongering. No wonder they make your kind the local justicars round these parts.
Can’t keep from judging people, may as well make a coin off it, yeh?”
“Yeh. I’m just cockin’ with ye, humorless gobshite. Gotta stick a torch up yer arse teh lighten ye the fook up.”
“You’re fucking mad. Don’t know why I agreed to this.”
“Ye fookin’ wonky coont. Yer here to watch me back, o’course.”
[499 Words, by Google Docs' reckoning.]