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

"We've got enough jink to settle someplace nice. No more sleeping in the
streets... no more gruel and hard beds at the Gatehouse..." Morte sighed
wistfully.
"Aye..." Annah murmured, "There be a kip just around th' bend iffn ye don't
mind rats an' roaches."
I gave the coin bag a good squeeze, the pleasant clack of coins reassuring.
We'd have enough coin for a few good supplies, and a few weeks at an inn if
we were careful. A couple days of rest wouldn't do much harm... it's not like
the trail could get any colder after the weeks I crawled around in alleys and
the guts of Sigil. Good food, a warm bed, and answers just around the
corner. Life was good.
As we rounded the bend, though, a grating little voice whispered to us from
the shadows.
"Psst! Hey you! Wanna earn some jink?"
My first impression of little man was that he needed a long bath, preferably
away from any creature that has any sense of smell. While not nearly as
terrible as Reekwind's foul miasma, I could almost see the stench waft from
his body in sinister yellow tendrils. He motioned towards us frantically in an
effort to get us to come over and talk to him.
"Ach! Just ignore th' sod," Annah grunted, tugging my arm.
"Please-" the man whispered, edging towards me just a bit as I stared, "I
need help." There was desperation in his eyes, and his face was pale as if he
were being slowly strangled by his ordeal.
"It- couldn't hurt to listen."
Annah cocked an eye at me then, but grunted and looked away when she
saw that I wouldn't be shaken.
A look of excitement crossed the man's face as I approached. "Thank ye fer
stoppin'. Me name is Mar, and I've a fav'r to ask of ye."
"I'm listening."
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