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

"Fine. Next question... what did you take off my body after I died?"
"I?" Pharod licked his lips. "Why, I took nothing, corpse." His face split in a
grin. "Then, I wasn't the one that found your body..."
"Who did?"
Pharod's smile widened, pulling the pasty folds of flesh back from his face
like a curtain. "My daughter, the rose of my eye, the sweetest of my family,
and the sharpest wit of them all..." He licked his dry lips and sighed in mock
sadness. "Such a cruel tongue on her..."
"Your daughter? Who?"
"My darlin' girl, Annah. She found you, dead as deader can be, in a place
where most Collectors wouldn't go for a mountain of coppers. Could be she
plucked something off you, could be not...?" He leaned in, shaking his head.
"You'll have t'ask her, for it's not her Da's place to say."
Something about him pricked at me, "Don't lie to me, Pharod. You're a
merchant, and you always take a cut from your workers. What did Annah
give you from my body?"
"Ah... yes... my tribute..." Pharod folded his withered hands over his crutch,
almost protectively. "There's no telling what was from you or not, corpse.
Most like, there was nothing."
As much as my past incarnation had done him ill, the man was rubbing me
the wrong way. I needed the elements of my past if I was to piece anything
together and here was this vulture hanging onto my possessions as little
more than trinkets, "Pharod, my patience is at an end. If you don't hand
over what was stolen from me, I will see to it the Dustmen know where to
find you." Pharod was silent for a moment. He tapped his fingers against his
crutch... slowly.
"Well?"
"Where has the decency of man gone..." Pharod grumbled, shaking his head.
"A courtesy I am doing for you, corpse... such a courtesy. Pharod parting
with anything... it'd be the dead-book for me if anyone heard... wait here,
move not a yard. I shall return."
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