[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, Small Hours of Day Four [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] The Group [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Sana moved of her own accord in Keystone's grasp. It was the first voluntary action she had taken since casting that last spell and falling unconscious, and Keystone took it as a good sign. Of course, that "good sign" faded to instant worry as she shuffled around to face him. The Gypsy-Archer was a stubborn woman; perhaps more stubborn than himself. Depending upon how quickly she recovered, the big guy might be forced to defend himself against the volatile woman's more aggressive attention. The thought of it made him very happy that he didn't try to keep her warm by way of shared body heat. The idea had crossed his mind. Granted, bundling up in a blanket with the lady (as enticing as it might sound) was hardly pragmatic given their circumstances, fresh out of direct combat with dead people and behind a wall of ice with most of a tribe of Orcs looking on. Plus, it might have caused one [i]hell[/i] of a misunderstanding when she finally came around. The kind that involves several awkward discussions about intent and/or attempted castration. He was keen to avoid either. 

	Instead of directly addressing the woman, Keystone locked eyes with her and gave a slight nod. If she wanted to further announce her sudden improvement, that was on her. The brawler would just as soon give her the opportunity to rest. He silently let Sana know that he knew, and turned his attention elsewhere. 

	[color=b8860b]"Warned ya there, didn't I? Eh?"[/color] remarked Keystone in a noticeably more upbeat tone. [color=b8860b]"Dwarf spirits. Takes some acquirin', it does - mostly use it for trade. Hard to come by, 'less you're in Dwarf lands."[/color] 

	Keystone had spent a good bit of time with Dwarves in his history. It had been a while, but given the circumstances of his career lately; mostly fighting undead in places neutral to his presence and sometimes openly hostile, it seemed like a good move to make. In his experience, they were gruff but hospitable people, respecting superior craftsmen and warriors of most races. It had been a long time since he had the occasion to spend a season in training, conditioning himself and reinforcing his techniques (or picking up new ones), surrounded by comforting stonework. If Keystone survived this foolishness, it was one of the things he had planned. Thinking about it, there might be one or two such strongholds more or less on the way back to his home, far to the north. 

	But first, his road took him to Salarn. As soon as possible. 

	Keystone dug into his pack nearby and retrieved a common-looking cup. He looked to Sana and motioned to the water on the fire, coming up to temperature for tea. He shot her a quizzical look, and mentioned aloud to no one in particular, [color=b8860b]"Water's almost good for tea."[/color]