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

The girl sneered, then made an obscene gesture with her tail. “I said pike
off, yeh clueless sod,” the words came out curled in a thick accent.
“Hey, easy,” I said, holding up my hands in a placating gesture, “I just had
some questions.”
She eyed me warily, a glint of... something in her eyes, “Aye? And what is it
yeh want?”
“I, uh...” I paused, “I can’t help but notice that you have a tail.”
“Do I now?” the girl’s eyes widened in mock surprise as she looked at her
tail, “So I do! An here I was thinking that it was a trick of me eye. My, aren’t
yeh a sharp cutter?” She bared her teeth, “Why don’t yeh piss off ta
whatever hole yeh crawled out of and leave me be?! Me nor me tail is for
trade, jig?”
A tiefling, then. She certainly had the temper of a fiend, “All right... I was just
cur-”
Morte piped up happily, shooting his tongue even as it salivated at the curve
of her breasts. For someone who’s made mostly of mouth and stem, I was
quickly learning that Morte had more mouth than anything, “It’s just as well
neither you nor your tail are for sale. You couldn’t squeak out a living with
‘em, anyway.”
“Uh...”
She turned pink with fury, hands shooting to the knives strapped to her
milk-white thighs, “What are yeh about, yeh blighter?! Say it again!”
“He didn't say anything,” I shot a hand out to try to grab Morte, but he
floated just out of reach.
“Yeh, that’s right, cutter. Rein in that mimir of yers,” she calmed down
visibly, though still wearing that scowl.
I sighed. I might as well get down to business, then, “I’m looking for
someone named Pharod. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Aye, I might. I might say more if yeh sweeten th’question, aye?” She clicked
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