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

A flicker of movement caught my eye. That woman, the one who first fled at
the sight of me. I ran after, shouting a quick goodbye to Baen and feeling a
bit guilty that I couldn’t show him the same courtesy he had to me.
“Chief, wait up!”
Interlude
“By Moradin’s beard, what BE this tripe!?” G’mir growls, “Chattering with
ghosts? Yammering with blood-eyed Dustmen? Getting scolded by old
women!? Just last week I pissed at the base of that black eyesore of an
obelisk and yer tellin’ me the most vicious killer the Planes spat out was
fiddlin’ and sobbing over it like a wee girl!?”
“Pike it, berk!”
“Aye, shove it up yer bone-box!”
One of the three gray-coated noblemen sitting in the corner stands up, one
hand proudly crossing his chest. A member of the Covenant of Swords,
you’ve heard from chatter nearby, a foppish but skilled trio that cleared the
streets of Sigil more out of a sense of adventure than virtue.
“We, the Covenant of Swords, have heard no such thing, friend dwarf! The
Nameless One was a man of skill and cunning, who skimmed the Planes,
saving damsels and vanquishing demons and devils alike!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” This time, Scii-tavakis, the dust-covered elf wielding
the obsidian spear, “He was smarter than that. No, the Nameless One was
an opportunist who knew when to take advantage of a debt, and knew
better still how to trick people into such bindings.”
“Me own great grandfather, Valakai the Heartslayer, knew this man!” a
black abishai snorts, “He was a mere madman who scuttled into the
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