[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three/Morning of Day Four [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Satilla, Sana, Kyra, Cyneburg [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Kyra was the first to move at Keystone's request, presenting him with his new cloak. It seemed fitting, after a fashion; Sana had given the cloak to him. In a way he was returning it. The garment had been treated with alchemical reagents and the infernal touch of Hellhound blood, a Hellhound that Keystone helped dispatch, first by very ineffectively throwing a knife at it, followed by a pissed-off close to melee and the brash, underclass gent living up to his title of Pugilist. For his part in the fight, Keystone punched out a Hellhound. 

	In the future, the broad man would invent a document called a "Resume", a powerful scroll detailing the high points of a person's chosen career and the means by which one may locate the individual. Though he would never become a true Wizard, Keystone's foray into scroll creation would vastly increase the probability of its user securing contracted employment. He could see it now:

[hider=Resume Entry]
[center]Johnathon Illiam Keystone
Pugilist
Year of Singing Swords, fortnight cusping the Equinox and Late Harvest
Realm of Lore

Demonstrated remarkable adaptive abilities following the unintended Planar Shift that resulted in my presence in Lore. Further demonstrated proven networking techniques, engaging in professional/social endeavors with a diverse work group, including Dragonkin, Goblins, Carney Folk, native Agriculturalists, and the Undead while maintaining appropriate decorum, including but not limited to [i]not[/i] pummeling them into pink paste studded with bits of bone shards. Duties included Watch, Threat Assessment, Teambuilding Exercises, Exchanging Fisticuffs with Hostiles, Ambassadorial Service for home realm, Evading Corrosive Rain and Enduring Extreme Environment Changes. 

Highlights: Bareknuckle negotiations over exploration/salvage rights to an abandoned temple vs sentient Undead, assisting in a group takedown of a giant Hellhound by hammering it senseless and broken with my bare fists, preparing a variety of foodstuffs from the corpse of said Hellhound including an appropriate sauce pairing (Mornay).

Challenges presented by the opportunity: Losing my favorite coat due to infernal fire (while wearing it), keeping a polite face in the presence of an intelligent Undead fighter (apparently much better tolerated there), linguistic barriers in the form of the Argentum dialect of Common to their native. Also, no bacon.[/center][/hider]

	Nevertheless, he was grateful to Kyra for getting the large parcel of cloth to him. Actually wrapping it around Sana while holding her would be a little more difficult, but hopefully she would recognize his dilemma and give him a hand. With any luck, the Orcs would consent to allowing them into the cave, preferably near a fire on warm, smooth stone, and he could set his friend down safely. Until then, he was going with the advice of their healer. Keystone mumbled a quick [color=b8860b]"Thanks, Kyra."[/color] and glanced around see what else was going on in his immediate vicinity. 

	Cyneburg advanced upon Keystone, he noted. [color=b8860b]"Holdin' that knife by the wrong end, yeah?"[/color] he mused, still holding up Sana. He didn't mind the Half-Orc druid so much. If nothing else, watching her shift forms into a bear from several feet up for maximum impact against a moving target was inspired. First opportunity, he was going to write all of that down. [color=b8860b]"Hands're a bit full just now, y'mind slipping that back in my sheath? Sharp side up; there's a good Miss."[/color] 

	He wasn't one hundred percent on where the conversation around him was going; his attention was focused elsewhere. But when Satilla crossed in front of him carrying a wool blanket, mentioning something about "hot to drink" and "proper tea". Seems his propensity to pack heavily and keep creature comforts nearby was of use. [color=b8860b]"Proper Tea, right? My pack. Wood box. Little goes a long way."[/color] He wouldn't mind a cup, himself. Been a long day.