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

nose as if to ward off the stench, "Is it better to suffer the truth with all its
consequences or is it better to remain ignorant? Which of the two men is
better off?"
Reekwind gave a hacking cough, spat, the spittle green and wet, and then
turned back to me. "It is your question, your tale..." He spoke slowly. "It is
you who must answer it."
I looked to Reekwind, then to Dak'kon, and back to the malodorous little
man, "Perhaps the man who has forgotten his true name is better off, for he
is protected against those that would do him harm, including himself. Where
a named man moves, he is followed. When a nameless one moves, his name
leaves no trail..."
Reekwind nodded as if in agreement, as I continued,
"But... the man who knows his true name is better off, for he knows himself
and is stronger person for it. Some choose to merely survive... others seek
salvation."
Reekwind mulled this over, licking his lips. He began to nod slowly, then
mumbled under his breath, as if debating with himself. Eventually, he turned
back to me. "That is a tale, a tale with a moral that tells the teller's morals..."
He coughed and spat another phlegmy glob onto the cobblestones. "A tale
that will answer itself, in time, in time...?"
"It must have an answer, and every tale has an ending. I will refuse to accept
it any other way."
Reekwind scratched himself for a moment, nodding, then reached into the
folds of his robe and flicked me a coin. "For such a tale: a clipped copper."
He sneered. "No more, for the tale's not finished."
"Thanks, Reekwind. Good luck to you."
The sky was bleeding into a dim orange, and soon night would've been upon
us. Even as well armed as we were I didn't trust the streets of the Hive to
not throw any more fangs or blades my way.
"So, do you know of any place we could rest, Annah? Any good inns
around?"
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