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

lack and red."
"Three robbers, dressed in red and black, outside a bar that burns on the
inside? That can't be too hard to find. Farewell."
That particular errand would have to wait. While sticking a blade through
the soft, tender parts of a thug had its simple, brutish effectiveness, I could
tell I was getting quite close to learning how to shoot fire from my fingertips
instead. Less messy, and more efficient. That is, if Mebbeth could start
teaching me instead of using me as an errand boy.
Kossah-Jai was a toothless old crone who reeked of fish and brine. Spying
my approach, she gave me a wide, pink smile. "Fish, my child? Fish-heads,
mayhap?"
"Child? Hardly."
"Oh yes, yes! But a child ye are, to my years! Hee-hee, youngsters..." her
giggle was pitched and squeaky.
I leaned forward with a calm smile, "I believe you're mistaken. Take a closer
look."
She shuffles up to me; the fish-stink was nearly overpowering. The old
woman squinted at my face first, frowning, and then into my eyes. Only then
did she recoil in surprise: "Oh, my! How many years have those eyes seen?"
I shrugged, "I do not know... how many do you think?"
"Don't know, don't know. Too many, I'd say. But no matter!" She leaned
close, to whisper in my ear. "It won't do to rattle the passers-by; let's keep it
our little secret." She resumed her normal tone of voice. "So: fish, my child?
Hee-hee!" She poked me in the belly.
The old woman jabbed firmly, and had a bony finger. I rubbed my stomach,
"What are you offering, exactly?" I looked over her cart.
"Why, fish, my silly child! Fish of all sorts - and fish heads, for those too short
of jink for the whole ones. Teeny-tiny fish-heads! Hee-hee!"
I decided to humor her. The woman sure loved her job, "Where do the fish
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