I need to find out what's going on.
I stand up and go out of sight, preferably in the direction away from the goo, then upon getting somewhere hidden I shift into raven form and attempt to survey what on earth is going on. I continue to avoid goop fumes.
You get airborne and fly around near the goop, but far enough that the odor is not overpowering. the whole mass of it seems alive now, it is roiling, boiling and coalescing toward a point. You spot the golem near the point, covered in gop, and wading away from teh point at which the goop is coalescing. but that point is moving toward him as well. On closer inspection, only part of it is coalescing toward a point - the rest is arching outward pouring slowly down the streets and crawling up the nearest buildings.
"Spiteful statement: Well played little man, but your life is forfeit. Just accept that you were a miserable magister and that you deserved what you got." He says, voice barely a whisper.
"Slightly Worried Statement: COMRADES, THE GOOP IS BECOMING AGRESSIVE. THIS ONE MAY REQUIRE SOME AID" he shouts
This one is of glorious metal and shall not be held down by mere goop. Attempt to break away from the goop by sheer force.
If breaking away doesn't work, merely resist the goop and use robutt computing to determine what the little git did exactly and how to get out of it.
((Goddamn mages, little gits never just die easy.))
You stand and walk backward, toward the edge of the goop. It is tough going, but you make progress against the tide. Unfortunately, the goop that is clinging to you does not come off easily, and as long as you are in the pile, more of it climbs into your joints, up your torso, and begins crawling along the base of your neck. you are becoming a walking ball of goop in the midst of a sea of the same. And you're calculations barely begin before they encounter an error which freezes up the process, turning your vision yellow with warning alerts. You furiously invent several new insults for incompetent magisters and mismechanic alchemists, and organics in general.
I AM SORRY, MAN-STEED, BUT MY LIFE IS FRANKLY WORTH MORE THAN YOURS. BEST OF LUCK.
Try to clear the goop behind us in one jump, and vamoose.
EDIT: If it doesn't look like I can clear it, and if somehow I've managed to hold onto that mirror I had, stick it under me when I jump and ride the goo slick to safety.
You leap from the man, causing him to stumble and go down, but soaring out toward a nearby window sill. You misjudge the distance and crash through the window shutters, roll along the floor in a ball of legs and head, and crash right into a fireplace, thankfully unlit. You pause a moment, a sloppy pile of rubbery appendage, covered in soot, and cough out a little ball of black dust.
Fight!
You push and buck, and one guy, attempting to hold your head, goes tumbling over you into the weeds. The other grips your torso quite firmly, sure you cannot escape him, but you slither off, with your passenger on board, before his companion can recover. Then, you hear a strange, gurgling wail, from the direction of town. Glancing htat way, you sense a bizarre transformation. the goop is glowign a sickly, malevolent violet, and it is reaching out. It seems angry. "What was that?" The man on your back shouts nervously. You get the impression he wasn't talking to you.