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

He couldn't seem to take the eyes off the seed, "Lad, I don't know if there's
anyone who has what your friend seeks... to be square, I've never seen such
a seed before. You would need someone who cultivates seeds such as this,
for I have none."
The flavor of the root died off at this point, and I spat the gooey, brown wad
into the gutter, "Very well, then... where would I find such a person?"
"Don't know the dark of that, friend," he handed the seed over to me,
"You'd be hard-pressed to find a gardener in the Hive..."
Mebbeth sure put me on a wild chase, "Looks like I'll have to. Thanks for the
help. In the meantime, can I have a bag of that Gar-Bar root?"
~~~~~
We made my way through the market, finishing off the Gar-Bar root piece
by piece, too busy chewing to talk to the merchants. Sweets were never as
tasty as the first piece, but still it staved off the hunger wondrously. Couldn’t
have been healthy, though.
In the distance, though, I noticed a man who fit a description I was given
perfectly.
He was a huge man, watching the area with a tight-lipped frown and
narrowed eyes. He was hunched slightly, as if bearing a heavy load on his
shoulders. The unpleasant smell of sweat and dirt wafted from his clothes.
"Hey. You Craddock?"
"Mayhap..." He studied my face, as if trying to recall me. "If I am, what be it
to ye?"
"I come with a message from Baen the Sender. The message states: 'The
shipment must be in Curst by the third-day or there will be a penalty.'" My, I
have a sharp mind if I could remember that. Perhaps I'll make a great mage
yet.
Craddock's eyelids furrowed as his face turned pinkish, "By the hells! Can
they be such fools that they think we can miracle it there?! All right then -
yer message has found its way to the right ears, for all the good it will do!"
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