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

He nodded, then unfolded his small hand from where it is cradled on his
side. I winced at the sight of the atrophied limb. "Costs jink to bury a name.
Three coppers, three."
"Hmmmm.... Es-Annon." I fished into my pouch for the coin.
The coppers fell into Death-of-Name's hand, and he tucked his arm back to
his side. His eyes, now suddenly alive, rolled to the back of his head, then
snapped forward to begin scanning the monolith and walls of the memorial
area with that same inhuman speed before.
He caught sight of a spot on the wall and quickly scuttled over to it,
hunching down, beginning to chip at the wall. He stopped a few moments
later, hopped up, then returned to me. "Buried." The word had a finality
about it that was unsettling.
I ran a hand over the tight little corner of the wall. There, the name white
and freshly carved against the stone, was "Es-Annon." A humble mark, but
one that would hopefully suffice.
When I returned to the Crier of Es-Annon, he was still emitting choked sobs
as he chanted the dead city's name. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "I
have seen to it that Es-Annon's name has been remembered. It lies carved
upon the black stone monument outside of the Mortuary."
Suddenly, there was a brief whisper in the air, and the man's eyes dried. One
of the tears that ran on his cheek simply vanished. "Then Es-Annon is served.
I will tell my fellow Criers of the stone you have described. You have my
gratitude."
"It was nothing. Farewell... I hope you and your brothers spend the rest of
your days peacefully."
"You know, chief, as much as this gives me a nice tingly feeling in places I've
missed for longer than I can remember-"
"I know, I know," I cut him off, watching the monk plod away, standing
straight. It was as if a world had been lifted from his shoulders. "It's time to
find Pharod."
199