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

Oh gods gamn you *hic* Jumble….
~~~~~
"Hmm. Again you stand before me..."
"You mentioned you -hic- were a Master of Curses? Perhaps you could -
hiccup! - help me..."
"Help you?" Salabesh sneered. "Doubtful." Before I could respond, he
sighed, shaking his head. "Well... perhaps I could. What troubles you, then?"
"Jumble Murdersense cursed me," I spat out the words quickly, and right
after I hiccupped once again.
"Jumble Murdersense? Hah! That sputtering mooncalf could never best me!
Oh, the battles we used to have, though..." Salabesh frowned. "But I'm past
all that, now. No longer my sort of thing, you see. I really don't know what I
could do for you... after all, it's his curse. Not the sort you'd find on an item
or somesuch, you know, that you could remove with simple magicks... he'll
have to remove it, and willingly."
"Well, could you teach me a curse, then, that I could use on him? Maybe
that arse-talking thing?" I hiccupped, and I could taste the bile bubbling into
the back of my throat.
"Hmm. Well... I don't normally do that. I keep my curses to myself, you
know. And besides, even a single curse would take one a long, long while to
learn - more time than I'd care to spend on it."
"I could -hic- pay you for your trouble..."
"No, no... I've simply no desire to do it." Salabesh looked directly into my
eyes. "Now kindly drop the subject, sirrah, before you begin to annoy me."
I stood, frustrated and forlorn. Morte eyed me, twitched towards Salabesh
as if in a gesture, and then it hit me. "Perhaps you're just worried your
curses aren't good enough to best him, anymore..."
"You what?! Of all the ridiculous... now look here, you knuckle-dragging sack
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