Hmm, you've got gangrene. We have to remove the leg or you'll die. But, while I have many axes, swords, knives, giant serrated disks with spikes of leather, I don't have a bone saw. I'm sorry.
Boot weit. Me brootha can forge you one.
...
Bootha, I have the boon sawh.
's too late, brootha. I am done for.
What?
He has looked himself in the store room. He is making a granite scalpel with pictures of socks!
Boot what oov yoor leg?
For a scalpel that menaces with spikes of mule bone, I would give my leg, for the goot oov the mountain home.
And thee other doctors?
I already have a doctor and this room is in use. No one will come until the doctor is done and has finished with me.
Boot the other patients?
For a scalpel with fine engravings of cheese made from oak, they will wait as long as is necessary. Even, Ewan McRedsheert over there.
With the goblin axe stook in hez hed?
That's the oone.
Darn carp it! Eye needed that iron!
Boot for a scalpel with rings of pure onyx...
Eye, for that I can get ootha iron... Boot Brootha... wat if yoo shood die?
For a scalpel... well actooly, I'll confoose the poor doc. Being unable to treat me e'll joos walk away and leave the room too cluttered to work. The others will, in time die of hoonga while waitin for treatment and yoo, having lost your dear brootha, will succoom to sobriety and go on a rampaj, killing every living thing in grief for yoo loss and actin oot at tha meeninglessness of deth.
Boot it twill be a lovely scalpel.
Aye very tasteful.
Think I'll get to see it before you die and I throw myself in the lava?
Eye doono. I've been bleeding for three weeks already.