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

than before.
When he finally died, his stomach was removed as an oddity... and since
then, it has 'wandered' the Planes in search of new stomachs.
I left this to myself for one reason. Might as well make the most of it.
*GULP*
Wow. Utterly revolting.
I really wish I had a glass of water to wash this down. Scraping the last bits of
the Gullet off my tongue and swallowing them (thus making no waste of any
magic whatsoever) I led us down to the Foundry.
Grace could do nothing for the cramping in my guts. It was either the magic
kicking into gear or a mighty case of (ironic) indigestion from eating that on
top of a heavy meal. Whatever it was, I was going to be paying the price the
whole walk down to the Lower Ward.
I'll just have to rip out my eye and replace it with this new doodad later.
~~~~~
I began to wonder if there were any clerks that weren't old, crotchety men.
Nadilin was hunched over his desk, flipping through an old book, "Oh good
day to you. Need any help, sir?"
"I'm here to pick up an item."
"Do y'have a receipt? You need a receipt or I can't give you anything."
"Yes, I do," I pulled it out of my pack. The paper was thick, but so old and dry
it seemed like it might've cracked like ancient leather if I wasn't more
careful.
Nadilin took the receipt from me and scrutinized it carefully. "This thing's
over a hundred years old! How'd you come by it?"
"I left it for myself, but I got busy."
876