[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Yellow Rose Temple [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Satilla, Cyneburg, Yomdi  [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Keystone had explained in detail what he witnessed personally concerning Sana's condition and the fight that brought it on. The presence of undead in massive numbers, the tactics used, and Sana's drain from spellsinging (for lack of a better term). Even the well-meant but hamfisted attempt to administer a potion to her unconscious form was detailed, as well as Keystone's own mundane efforts to assist. Yomdi, however, insisted upon hearing it again. The broad pugilist retold his story. 

	Perhaps it was a tactic; repetition to sort out the truth of the matter. Asking all of them to tell from their own points of view to look for details in common as well as details that individuals might have missed. Or just to see the looks on their faces to ascertain if they were intentionally hiding something. Whatever the case, Keystone told his story as best he could. 

	He had been to many monastic orders, martial training facilities, and the like. Every temple leader was a little different. Some actively used magic, a thing in which Keystone was particularly unversed. Some were actually Clerics that gained insight on barehanded fighting. Others were people similar to him - ordinary folk who pushed their minds and bodies to limits thought unattainable by normal men. Still others challenged themselves to achieve personal enlightenment, a more mystical or mental path that gave them abilities similar to magic, but something else altogether. The core of Keystone's thought on this matter being that he actually had little idea what Yomdi was capable of doing at his best, or what miracles he could perform to assist in the healing of Sana. All he could do is repeat his story as clearly and honestly as possible. 

	Perhaps an answer existed in the combined efforts of those present in that candlelit, black marble room. At this point, it was anyone's guess. Keystone merely hoped that the crazy old man who ran things here could provide him answers and his friend help. For that, he would repeat himself many times if requested.