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

t' nick ye... wait, wot's yer name again?"
"Er... I don't know. All I know is that I woke up on a slab in the Mortuary...
thanks, by the way... and that I can't die."
Annah gave me a cockeyed look, those dark lips curling into a sneer. She
spat then muttered to herself, "Daft, this is."
Dak'kon gave Annah a cold glance, sure and straight as steel, while Morte
bobbed up and down, eyeing her from every flattering angle he could think
of, "Say, Annah... does that tail go all the way up?"
"Oh, aye... up yer bone-box to rip out yer brains."
Morte ceased his bouncing, "Uh- I think I'm going to hang next to the chief
now."
We took the wooden stairs up and out of the Buried Village, and at the
entrance was another tall, broad-shouldered thug. He might've been
handsome once, but birthright had not been kind to him. His face and arms
were relatively clean of scars, and that meant that he was either new or he
was a more formidable fighter than the rest.
As I entered the room he got up from his chair and approached me. "'LO
there! Name's Bish. Who might ya be?"
"My name is 'Adahn,'" I lied. Having a false name might've been less
off-putting than having none, and it would be best to not stir trouble just as I
was leaving.
"Adh-what?" Bish stared blankly at me then shook his head violently. "I
never seen ya comin' in and Pharod didn't tell me about no 'Adahn' comin'
around." I noticed his hand moving slowly towards his weapon. "Ya best be
tellin' me what yer doin' here, berk."
"I've got nothing to hide, and I don't want to cause any trouble. I just want
to pass through."
Bish paused, as if considering what to do.
"Ach, just let us past, ye eedjit!" Annah snapped stepping out from behind
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