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

"What did these people look like?"
"It's hard to say, sir... t'was so long ago, and ye walked by so quick-like. But I
remember, now, the way ye held yer head up... there was a woman
followin' ya, tryin' to stop ye. To get ye to turn around, speak to her... but ye
pushed her away."
Deionarra... a chill breeze whisked across my chest, as if the name had
caressed me. I had to work a bit of moisture in my mouth, "What happened
then?"
"Beautiful woman, she was... looked so sad, so angry, all at once. She stood
there for a moment, then followed along behind ye just the same, hustlin' to
catch up."
A group? "You had said there was a group? Who else was there?"
She shrugged. "There was at least two other gentlemen with ye, sir... the
only one I remember too clearly, though, was tall, thin. Reeked of bub, he
did; I smelled him from across the way. Looked like he hadn't bathed in
ages, too. He followed ye close, he did, an' never said a word. Acted like the
woman wasn't even there, even when she bumped against him, tryin' to
stop ye. That's all I remember, sir."
I dropped a handful of coins into the woman's palm, "Thank you. That was
most informative."
She smiled, "Oh, my! Why, thank ye, sir, most kindly. May the Lady's shadow
pass ye over."
"Now, have you heard of a Brogota-fin? I was told it bleeds ink from its gills."
She blinked, then nodded. "Aye, that fish... that fish is a strange one, it is.
Not many have heard of it and less'd want to eat it... difficult to kill, and
even in death, it still seems to live. Not many want to latch their teeth
around somethin' that still writhes."
"Do you have one?"
"Aye... but the ink, ye'll need somethin' to carry it in. Have ye a bowl or cup,
121