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

"I'm- I'm not sure..."
"You know where it is, Morte. The sooner we get to it the sooner we can
leave."
He gave me a nervous glance, a criminal returning to raid his old prison, but
he nodded, and floated higher to get a good look.
Annah began to make a move.
"No, Annah. No scouting this time. We need to stay together and I can't be
sure that the fiends wouldn't be able to spot you in some other way."
"Tchah!" she scoffed, but looked relieved that she wouldn't have to go off
on her own.
Dak'kon knelt, his knee fully healed under Grace's tender ministrations. His
hand extended with a feather-light touch, examining the patterns of stone
and sand.
"Do you see something?"
Dak'kon stood, one hand on the hilt of his blade, "I have traveled these lands
long ago. When I laid my first oaths to the blade I had joined a rakkma, a
hunt to exterminate the illithid threat. Many of the foul mind-flayers we had
slain, and in our quest we had learned of a stronghold in Baator. The rumors
whispered that the illithid menace had dealings with the lord of Dis, the
second of the nine layers."
"What kind of deal?"
Dak'kon's gaze hardened, "An exchange of chattel slaves for knowledge of
pain. Many of the People were said to have numbered among them."
I held my tongue and allowed him his moment of silence. By his tone the
affair did not end well.
"We had been fools, and were lured into the baatezu trap. The documents
we had obtained in the town of Ribcage promised safe passage, yet they
cowed only the weak and ignorant denizens of the Pit. The greater baatezu
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