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

intensified all around us, howling, urgent in an almost human-like moaning,
like a man on the edge of a sneeze. Stones crashed and boards snapped all
around us as we dashed through the passageway, and lightning crackled in
the air as the old city gave way to new, streets birthing new streets, houses
splitting into new houses.
Cobblestones popped along the road like bubbles as the new section of the
city gave one final quake, expelling the four of us like afterbirth. Tumbling
through the air in a cloud of gray and yellow dust I screamed. The girlish
shrieks and obscenities echoing behind me could've been either Morte or
Annah for all I knew.
All I knew was that when I landed it was flat on my tailbone, which cracked
under my weight. Annah tucked and tumbled gracefully past me, stumbling
only slightly as she rolled to her feet, while Dak'kon slid through the dust
until he came to a stop at my side. A small white sphere tumbled past me,
shrieking as it cracked against the pavement, bouncing once, twice, before
rolling to a stop in the distance.
I groaned, rubbing my backside as Dak'kon helped me up, and a very
surprised merchant in fine beige garb gawked down at me, "Well... good
day, sir." He looked me up and down at the dust and grit, the tattered kilt
and sash of bones. "You look like you might be interested in some fine
clothes."
~~~~~
In the distance Morte coughed, and scraped the dust from his tongue with
his teeth. Lips or a soft palate would've been a blessing, but he might as well
have wished for a body if he was going along that line of thought.
This one's crazier than the rest of them put together, Morte grumbled to
himself, But at least he's getting farther than most of those other poor sods.
He got up, and it was as simple a matter as standing would've been. Imagine
one leg, then the other, and just think about moving. Looking around, Morte
whistled a breath of air through his teeth. The Lower Ward... what delights
awaited here. He couldn't wait to introduce the chief to the Sensorium, or
the Twelve Vushilla Dancers. With the coin they had now they wouldn't have
to scrounge for rats or sleep on smelly sheets anymore. No, silk and mammy
pillows it'd be, if he could get the chief to just loosen the purse a little
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