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

He turned around, yelling at the workers there in a fine old temper, "Come
on, ye laggards! Ye halfwits! Is that Jhelai not here yet? That lazy
scum-sucking dog had better be here soon or I'll-"
Craddock's face turned a bright red, and his face cracked into a snarl. "Argh!
Damned be his name! May all the evils of the Planes hound his footsteps..."
A blistering stream of insults, threats, and speculation about Jhelai's family
roots issued from Craddock's mouth.
"Oooooh!" Morte clicked his teeth together as Craddock built up steam... I
could almost hear him taking notes inside his skull.
I left Craddock to his woes and wandered about the market. Peddlers waved
their wares, shoved them under my nose, and a couple of the more bitter
ones made rude gestures when I walked away chewing on Gar-Bar.
Those that seemed kind enough to talk a bit were still unwilling to help with
my errand, or were a bit touched in the head. One or two were stone deaf
to my questions, and I had to leave.
More than one merchant seemed desperate for a sale, but my pouch was a
bit too light to spend any more. More than once I had to sheepishly walk
away after glancing politely at their wares.
Still, it was heartening to see life go on. Here the misery of the Hive was
attenuated by the bright wares and the lively trades, muted by the boasts of
the merchants and wry smiles of the customers.
I cast my gaze around the city then. Hundreds of buildings, dozens of alleys,
and the only things that thrived were razorvine and rats. Where in the Hells
was I going to find a gardener?
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