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

It nodded, giggling. "Dost thou want to hear it?"
"Of course."
"Ahem! Now, think of words which end in '-GRY.' Angry and hungry are two
of them. There are but three words in the Common Tongue... what is the
third word? The word is something that one uses every day. If thou hast
listened carefully, I have already told thee what it is."
I racked my brain once again. "It's... uh... hmm. Morte?"
"Aw pike it, chief. I all my virtues are invested in dishing it out. I'm no
riddler."
"Dak'kon?"
Dak'kon mulled it over a moment, carefully considering the possibilities, "My
apologies. Common is not my native language... such words are not known
to me."
The skeleton burst into a fit of mocking, derisive laughter. It pointed at us
with a skeletal finger, chortling and chattering as it clutched some imaginary
gut.
Part of me wondered how that polished skull would look smashed up into a
bunch of tiny, giggling bits. Much better. "All right, what's the answer?"
"Not a chance! Not a chance!" Seeing my dour expression only caused it to
laugh more, chattering its teeth at me.
"Well... what if I stump you? Will you tell me, then?"
The laughter stopped abruptly. "What's this?" It cupped a bony hand to the
side of its skull. "Do I hear... a challenge? Yes... yes... go ahead! But should
thou lose, or leave half-way through, I shan't speak to thee again!"
If only he would make it so easy. "Very well. Let's begin."
I didn't know all that many riddles. Hell, sometimes I felt lucky that I woke
up knowing how to speak the local language. Half the ones I used were
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