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

Here and there a Collector wandered. One with a wheelbarrow near-filled,
fresh limbs hanging from the planks. Others squatted in the garbage in their
ragged rust-brown robes. It slowly dawned on me how easily that umber
hue could mask the filth and blood that stained the cloth.
One such Collector wandered past, muttering to himself. His eyes were
sunken and dark-rimmed, but they glinted with a touch more sanity than the
others here.
Not wanting to touch the man, I stepped in his path instead, "Greetings."
"Someone comes ta speaks ta Nodd, speaks ta Nodd, aye..." He suddenly
broke into a fit of hacking coughs, then nodded to himself.
"I have some questions," I said politely.
He nodded. "What?" He sniffed, then squinted at me, then Morte. "Jink. Ye
wants t'know sumfin -- jink. Aye, jink-jink."
I already had a couple of coppers in hand for this, and I dropped them in an
outstretched palm, still moist with the juices of whatever he handled
recently.
"Jink fer Nodd, jink-jink." He mumbled for a moment, hiding the copper
coins away in the folds of his robes. "Ask, Nodd tries ta answer, aye." He
coughed for a bit, spitting something off to the side.
"Do you know of a man named Pharod?"
Nodd looked frightened and started to shake his head. "Pharod, Pharod,
Pharod... What? What 'bout him?" He frowned, then shook his head, as if he
was not sure he should've been be speaking to me.
I spat. The air here was filthy. I was no dainty lass, but I sorely wished I had
brought a perfumed kerchief with me. Morte made a face. "Do you know
where I can find him?"
The Collector shook his head, then mumbled. He glanced quickly at me, then
began to murmur again to himself. It sounded like he was uttering a prayer
against evil. "Nuh-nuh-not here. In Square..." He frowned, as if unsure how
to explain it. "...but not in th' Square." He shook his head again, then
85