As Shein-Fang spoke, Keystone's face registered with shock for a fraction of a second before it faded into understanding, and resignation. "Thank you, Grandmaster. I 'preciate greatly." 

...

The burly fighter made his way back to his pack and inspected his belongings. He could travel well for a few days, but not much longer. He would have to move fast and far. The offer to raid the Monastery's supply rooms was a blessing; one he eagerly accepted. 

The first order of business was to alter his look, including personal effects that may be identifiable to people who had seen him around Telflamm. His traveler's pack was replaced with another, larger one, and neatly stuffed most of his undamaged clothes and belongings into the bottom. 

His utilitarian clothing, commonly associated with a tradesman or laborer, gave way to more tactical gear suited to unarmed combat - tough, simple, allowing for movement. Darker colors, as well. Though not overly trained in stealth, the white and tan and grey he ordinarily wore certainly wasn't helping matters any. Gloves went next, after cutting short the fingers of a pair that (miraculously) fit. Long strips of black linen wrapped around his wrists and up over his new bracers, almost up to the elbows. Over everything, he layered a sleeveless, mostly black, hooded monk's robe. Finding similar spares for everything, he proceeded elsewhere in stores. 

Food and drinkable water were important. He stocked up on enough nutrient-dense items as he could, along with a few items to assist in their preparation. The last bit was a little selfish, but he did have a fondness for cooking; it was a talent he had little opportunity to practice as of late. Waterskins and/or canteens would be important. As would be alcohol, he figured after locating casks labelled "shochu" and "plum wine". Value in trade on the road was immeasurable to find safety in numbers or a warm spot to stay. 

Finally, weapons. While Keystone was not an avid user of them, others knew this, too. Having already stashed his personal knives, he sought to replace them on his person. Scanning what they had to offer, he settled on one interesting style of short stabbing implement - a weapon he had heard the monks refer to as "kunai": Triangular bladed, utilitarian knives with large ring pommels. He grabbed two sets of six larger ones, both sets in bandoleers.

Disguising Glith's sword was slightly more interesting. In the end, he fastened it with cloth and strapped it to his back, through his new pack. Confident the weight wouldn't throw off his balance, he rose to leave. 

Keystone caught sight of himself in a polished metal mirror on his way out. He walked into this place as a brawler, but in the short time he spent among these people he had come to regard himself differently, if just a bit. He still did not consider himself a Monk, at least not in the way others did, but he certainly looked the part now. One thing bothered him, however; his face was still very western, very non-Shou. He felt rather foolish as he found a possible answer in a wide, conical hat, one of many piled in a corner. Fitting it on, he regarded himself again. He felt a little silly, but had to admit that he looked just as dangerous as before. Possibly moreso. Most importantly: He didn't look like Keystone. If needed, he could always toss the hat as soon as he put distance between himself and this place. 

After grabbing a few more odds and ends useful to a man in his position, rope, hook, camping effects, map of the area, he exited the storage areas and returned to the open air. He caught the eyes of Shein-Fang while walking toward the exit. He strode up to the elder monk and adopted a humble stance. "I appreciate everything you have done for me, Grandmaster Shein-Fang of Telflamm. Respectfully sir, where do you think I should travel next?" 

If he ever could, Keystone intended to resume his studies with these people. 

...

A man exited the Xiang Temple at a run. To look at him, this man was intimidating and single-purposed. He was equipped for either a long journey or a short relocation. He did not look like an Assassin of Telflamm, nor did he look like a Red Wizard. The man also did not look like Johnathon Keystone. One of many Xaing Monks, this one in dark garb, he moved with haste and precision to his next destination.