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

Morte's grin withered under Annah's piercing gaze, and he floated over to
keep Dak'kon between them.
"But where would he keep it all?" I wondered, "If he's been at the Village for
as long as he says, he would have amassed quite a collection."
"Well..." Annah was silent for a moment. "I know he's never left his hall to
get his tribute when he needed it."
"He wouldn't want to walk far with that lame leg of his, though."
"Aye, that's true - but only if yeh don't watch him careful. He isn't lame,
though he puts on a fair show about bein' weak in the leg."
A sudden flash of insight hit me, "So that crutch of his... could be a portal
key?"
Annah frowned in thought for a moment, then slowly nodded her head.
"Aye... there's a thought." She shrugged. "I wouldn't know how yeh'd use it,
though. Maybe yeh just need tae have it."
"Hmm."
"Ach, here we are."
I walked up the short flight of steps and felt along the wall. what I had first
taken to be a door in the archway was actually a painting. The artist had
made use of the shadows of the overhanging arch and some subtle texturing
effects to give the door the illusion of substance.
"Are you sure this is the door, Annah?"
"Aye... it's been smeared with barmy paints from the Starved Dogs, it has -
it's a real door until yeh look at it, then it turns into a painting."
"How did they do that?"
Annah shrugged, "There's stranger things in th' Planes." She suddenly
frowned, "Ye might as well as how yeh got yerself out o' the dead book after
I was sure you were dead."
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