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

ticked on the images were gettling clearer as the flesh regenerated, "Give us
a few drinks."
Satisfied that we weren't about to loiter, the barkeep nodded, "You want a
drink, you got a drink. This is what we got for you: Beer, bitters, mead,
Elemental water, Arborean firewine and fireseeds, Curst heartwine, and
Baatorian whiskey. What'll it be?"
Morte chirped, "Mmm... mead."
"I shall request a cup of shiftspice tea."
"Ach, if th' boss is payin' I suppose I could settle for th' firewine."
I nodded, "Whiskey."
The bartender placed a shot of some steaming substance that lookd like
boiling urine in front of me. The fumes that wafted my way, however, were
exquisitely tempting. The taste, though nearly unbearably hot, was as smoky
as the scent - the feel of the liquor burning its way to my gut was nearly
painful, yet even this pain was sweet. The barkeep's eyes widened. "Still
standing? Most folks can't even make it halfway through the first shot."
I shrugged, "I feel fine. I don't even feel anything."
The barkeep considered me carefully as he set down the other cups.
"Y'know, cutter, there's some as have a natural immunity to poisons and
such. Some folks call bub a poison. If that's the case, chances are good you
got yourself a handy little defense against poisoners."
I smirked, looking at the empty glass, "Well, how about that..."
~~~~~
The sweet kiss of incense greeted us as we entered the tattoo parlor. with a
click of beads and the light creak of the floorboards, Fell walked out of the
back room, parting the beaded curtain to face me as I approached. Next to
me, Annah stiffened as she caught sight of Fell.
"Annah... what's wrong?"
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