(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Shallow?" he gasped, and reeled back as if insulted, "I'm not shallow. I just
don't get caught up in all that philosophy and belief and faith wash that
every berk from Arborea to the Gray Waste rattle their jaws about. Who
cares? The Planes are what they are, you're what you are (whatever that is),
and if it changes, fine, but things aren't bad the way they are- and I should
know."
"I'm sure you do," I said dryly.
"Go on, then! Ask me some questions about the Planes, or the chant, or the
people, or the cultures. When you end up like me- without eyelids, that is-
you end up seeing a lot of things, and I can tell you almost everything you
need to know."
"Until you spot the next harlot on the street, that is."
"Harlot? Where?!" he chirped, looking around for a moment. He then
turned, cocked his head, and looked at me through the corner of his eye
with a grin, "Just kiddin.' Seriously, though, it's like this: We're in this
together, chief. Until this is over, I stick like your leg."
Cheered after being given the opportunity to do what he does best, Morte
continued to chatter on as I listened. He spoke of races with thirteen
different genders and the hundreds of ways that they copulated, of
snake-women with no less than three rows of breasts, of religions in which
the Goddess of Love slew her enemies by a sensual, mind-shattering dance. I
was beginning to detect a pattern here.
Yet with all his experience, Morte couldn't say where we might find the
nearest gardener. "Maybe in the Clerk's Ward," he said, "but not in this
dump. I usually don't travel in such lowbrow circles as this."
As I’ve begun to learn, the Hive dwellers themselves were of little help. Most
mumbled and went their own way, too busy with their sleazy, broken lives
to help a stranger. Most laughed in my face at the mention of a gardener,
but a Dabus seemed to consider that there might be one such person in the
Southeast portion of the Hive.
Hoping to get some better directions, I tried talking to an elderly woman as I
meandered towards where the Dabus showed me. “Excuse me, but I have
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