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

With money, spells, and a little more wisdom in the world, I was ready to
continue seeking out Pharod. First though, I had to visit a friend.
~~~~~
Mourns-for-trees smiled widely upon seeing me. “Ah, my friend; you’ve
returned! Something you wished of me?”
“No, I wanted to ask Dak’kon to help you,” I replied.
"One finds your request most intriguing," Dak'kon mused. "Trees, in the
Hive? Like cities, in Limbo. They would stand as a testament to the will of
the people not to bow to that which would surround and devour them; to
take what has been thrust upon them or left behind and make good of it. I,
too, will care for these trees."
Gleefully, Mourns-for-Trees put his fingers to his lips to hide his smile.
"Look! Oh, look!" He pointed to the branches, "It's so slight you can carely
see it, but look: fresh sap, from the trunk, and a handful of new buds. It's
only a matter of time, now. Oh, friend, I thank you again for giving me hope
once more."
I had grown to know these streets fairly well after a few days of running
errands. Every once in a while, I searched Ragpicker's square for some hint
of Pharod's whereabouts, spending one day picking garbage from dawn to
dusk. There was nothing there as far as I could tell, but perhaps with three
pairs of hands... well, two pairs and one annoying skull, the search would be
over much quicker.
I was mulling this over as we walked through the Hive, when an agonized
wail caught my attention.
Streams of tears had carved channels down the man's dust-covered face. He
looked to be a monk or a holy man of some sort, but the dirt covering his
body made it nearly impossible to see the man beneath. He was chanting
and rolling his head back and forth -- it looked like some sort of ritual.
I approached him, "Are you all right?"
The man stopped his frenzied chanting and glared at me with his
tear-rimmed eyes. He opened his parched mouth to speak, but all he could
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