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

do here, so lending a hand where it was needed was no matter.
The skeleton sighed, "No. I've a difficult decision to make, 'tis all."
"What decision is that?"
It paused a moment, as if considering whether it should say. "To continue
my... 'life'... here, or to die. To finally pass into the True Death I have been
told of."
I clicked my tongue, "Soego's preaching, eh? I see no reason why you should
give up your life. You only get one- well, in your case two chances after all."
It nodded, "I shall take thy words into consideration. Now, I ask thee to
leave me to my thoughts. Farewell."
With that in mind, it was a simple matter to convince Soego to leave.
Putting on a blank expression and trying to look as bored and depressed as
possible, I spoke to Soego as if it were one Dustman to another, "I met a
skeleton -- in one of the hallways here -- that seems on the brink of seeking
the True Death."
His reaction was a bit more energetic than I expected, "Oh! I will go speak
with him, now!"
A full minute after he scurried from the room, Morte stood watching the
door as Dak'kon and I sifted through his things.
"It does not seem right to go through the possessions of another," Dak'kon
murmured.
"Necessity breeds many things, I'm sad to say." I flipped through yet another
book, looking for hidden letters or documents folded between the pages.
Dak'kon looked up at me, his eyes sharp with sudden clarity, "Where was
Soego when we first entered?"
I thought back, "The edge of that creaky wooden bed."
Dak'kon nodded thoughtfully, "And where does he always sit?"
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