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

I cleaned my knife on the clothing of one of the corpses, "They weren't
pouring out of the alleys this time. Come on, let's leave these to the
Collectors." I checked their pockets for whatever I could get. In a world
where people survived by scavenging, I couldn’t be faulted for taking my
share.
Without the element of surprise these guys were pushovers. In the back of
my mind though, there was little comfort. I had seen hints of things far more
bizarre, more terrible than I could know. There were the footprints of
powers that made the Hive dwellers look like ants. Even though I was a
proficient fighter, my mind was keener by far, and I needed to hone that
edge of mine to its sharpest.
That sharp mind of mine, for example, recalled quite readily the description
of a beautiful, jet-haired girl in blue.
Amarysse was a lovely young woman dressed in a tight leather bodice and
leggings of faded azure, the gray-blue of a dying sky. She smelled faintly of
cheap perfume and her face, though pretty, was painted with garish
make-up. She smiled coyly as she saw me. "Seeking some company, love?"
Morte waggled his tongue, "Whoa! Good taste, chief!"
"Are you, by any chance, Amarysse?"
She stared at me silently for a time, then spoke: "I was called that, once,
long ago. Who are ye?"
"I was sent to find you by Nodd, your brother. He's worried about you, and
hoped I could tell him how you were."
Her eyes widened, "N... Nodd? He's alive? Where? Why didn't he come ta
seek me out himself?"
I scrubbed the back of my hand uncomfortably. I suppose the truth couldn't
hurt so much, "I think he's ashamed. He's a Collector, now, living in poverty
in Ragpicker's Square. He doesn't seem quite... right. In the head, I mean."
She nodded, "Aye, he was a bit touched, even as a child, when his name was
Thodus. Oh, I've missed him so! Ashamed, though? Ha!" her smile made her
makeup-smeared face clearer, lovelier, "Me own work's no more proud! Ah,
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