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

Fell examined it for a moment, tracing the patterns with his finger. He then
looked up, and a series of rebuses formed, hazy at first, then coming sharply
into focus. I could barely make it out.
Dak'kon studied the symbols, but he remained silent.
"Dak'kon? What is he saying?"
"The arm is yours. The tattoos are his."
I looked at him levelly. Did I mistranslate? Add some figment that wasn't
there? "Did he say anything more than that?"
Dak'kon was silent for a moment... and suddenly, instinctively, I knew
Dak'kon was lying to me. He continued on with a dead-level tone. "The rest
of the symbols are not known to me."
The silence between the three of us was pregnant with tension. Annah
backed away as both Fell and Dak'kon stood calmly, looking at each other
without a bead of sweat on their heads.
"Why are you lying to me?"
Dak'kon fell silent again; he did not turn to look at me -- he seemed to be
staring at something leagues away. "The symbols... there is no good in
knowing the answer to what you ask."
"Since when has not knowing the truth of something ever really helped
anyone, Dak'kon? The counselor who councils ignorance betrays his
station."
He breathed a long sigh, dry and hoary with the mists of age-old memories
crisp and painful as a knife's edge. "There is truth in your words. That truth...
should be known to me." Dak'kon was silent for a moment, then he turned
to me, his eyes hardened. "The symbols speak of four you have traveled
with in the past."
"Go on... what four are these?"
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