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

dumped the ice into his mouth... it melted instantly, leaving him with a
somewhat startled expression...
"Merriman...?"
Merriman looked at me, confused, then at the paper in his hands. He read
aloud: "Congratulations, Merriman: you've begun again. Thank the man in
front of you and give him the key in your pocket. Speak to Splinter, the man
at the door to this building, for more information." He looked to me again.
"Well... it would seem I owe you thanks, good sir. Here... take this key. I'd
best find this 'Splinter' fellow and find out what's going on!"
"Thanks, Merriman. Good luck."
Chapter 87
Dolora was busy with another client by the time I returned. To my grave
misfortune, it was a Guvner, and one prone to long-winded and intricate
debates on the histories of empires long forgotten by everyone else.
Apparently Dolora, with a sense of logic and education that exceeds most,
was one of his favorites. They'd be talking late into the night.
Thankfully every night Grace arranges for savory hors'dourves to be
delivered from the Civic Festhall for the benefit of her late-night guests, so
we won't be going hungry while we wait.
"I must simply disagree, my dear Dolora. The root cause for the shattering of
the Compact of the Rose lies in the Fourth Dynasty, and builds up
progressively through the three thousand years that followed. But to start
from the beginning..."
Argh.
Frustration turns the spicy half-shell mollusks into ash my mouth. I wander
the brothel, making small talk and trying to tease out what I could about the
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