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

some refreshment?"
A small teapot had been propped above a small candle flame on a
countertop, keeping the tea warm up until serving. Porcealin clinked as
Fall-From-Grace set up the table. Annah snubbed her cup, Morte didn't
seem interested, and Dak'kon merely held his cup to warm his hands, but
Grace still poured a serving for each of us if only to be polite.
I sipped the amber tea. It was... exotic. Very complex, hot yet cooling on the
tongue, with the barest whisper of fruit and sweetness that left me thirsty
for more.
"Arborean peach blossoms," she said warmly at my expression, "With white
peppermint and a drop of fire blossom honey to accent the flavors."
"It's very good," I chuckled, and nibbled on a biscuit, "Nice job you have
here... you get to mix business with pleasure so seamlessly."
She smiled, and peered over the edge of her cup mysteriously, "Sir, pleasure
is my business."
Annah's tail flicked as her expression soured. I chuckled, "Well, as wonderful
as this is, I came here looking for help. Perhaps you can help me."
Grace blinked, "Help? What kind of help were you looking for?"
"I seem to have lost my memories... in so doing, I've lost myself."
"You have been stricken with amnesia?" she looked pained. She set her
teacup down on the saucer, "How terrible! Do you have any idea how it
happened?"
I shrugged, "Not really... at least not that I can remember. I woke up on a
slab on the Mortuary, and everything before that is black."
"You awoke in the Mortuary?"
"I think the Dustmen mistook me for being dead... or I was dead... or
something. All I know is that I regenerate wounds quickly. I could be
immortal, but I don't even know that for sure."
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