[center][h3][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h3][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Road North of Salarn, Camp[/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Medieval X-Men, Cremwise, Cyneburg[/center][/b] 

Silence, except for the wind, caressed Keystone's awareness of Self. His extended meditations began to fix his mind into a state of hyperinformative insight, wherein great truths of himself and the land around him began to unfold, as the petals of a great water flower may; slowly and with great deliberation, true enlightenment hidden inside. 

Keystone's need for violence, his overly protective nature for both himself and others, coupled with his unfathomable depths of anger, began to unravel and fall away as the pure, golden light of his soul - his inner being, his ideal, enlightened, personally aware, inner [i]Self[/i] - began to rise from the darkness and muck of his psyche's defenses and personal baggage, to assert itself as the rightful, enlightened, and potent force commanding the powerfully conditioned physical form of Keystone, the resulting amalgam being the perfection of mind, body, and soul, raising him from the common mundane origins from which he came. 

The Perfect Warrior. A force of nature. The ultimate incarnation of Keystone. A thing which, given time, may very well be deified. 

And then it fell to crap. 

A moment before his great transcendence, a call to arms sounded in the form of, [color=a187be]"We got company and it ain't the friendly sort this time."[/color] The uncouth brawler's sense of earthly duty pulled him from his illuminating reverie as he sprung up, fully awake and ready to run at full tilt, if need be. 

Keystone's hoisted his pack and hung it from the cart, tossing a suggestion at Cremwise. [color=b8860b]"You ought hitch up horsey on the quick, it's soddin' off time."[/color] He disengaged the slip knot holding up his tarp underneath the wagon, crudely balled up the apparatus, and sandwiched it next to the cargo. Ready to go in ten seconds. Not bad, considering the circumstances. Then again, minimal preparation in the evening makes for minimal effort necessary in the morning. 

The large man noted with some interest that one of their recent, veiled acquisition shifted from from a woman into a large, ursine beast. While it wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen in his adventuring career, it was the first time he'd actually witnessed it this closely. Curiosity (and, if he were honest with himself, a bit of alarm) turned his head in her direction. Yeah, he'd heard of woodland folk who could skin-change. He'd just never been on a job with one, owing to his urban upbringing and his occupation. Not a lot of opportunity for professional crossover there. 

This upcoming danger did mean one thing - his hope for oat bannocks and strong tea was dashed, at least for the present. More pressing things took priority, namely the safety of their charge and his wares, at least until they're offloaded in the next town. If they made it out unscathed as well, bonus. 

Keystone was ready to fight, even if his lack of weapons or armor (outside of his masterful leather coat) indicated otherwise. Still, despite his wary nature, he couldn't help himself. Nodding to the Bear-Lady, but focused on the surrounding woodlands, he queried, [color=b8860b]"Oi, is it true, then? You lot shit in the woods?" [/color]

One step from enlightenment, indeed.