[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h3][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Storehouse, Road North of Salarn, Day Three [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Sana, His Ow Thoughts [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	And with that, Cremwise's Merchant Extravaganza was back on its way north. Luckily, this was the direction that Keystone had wanted to go overall; it moved him a little closer to more familiar climates and methods of food preparation. The weather lightened up considerably, giving them less to worry about from above despite the continuing difficulty with mud from below. The group slogged along next to the creak and roll of the wagon, still laden with its mystery cargo. More than once, Keystone debated pulling back the canvas covering the wares within and finding out for himself what he and the others had shed blood to protect. Maybe tonight, if they were still on the road by then. Maybe never. To the massive brawler, it was even money either way. 

	While cautiously perusing his feelings on the subject, a question sounded from slightly above him. It was Sana, curious as to his egress from the realm where the two of them had first met. Thinking back on the loathsome circumstances of those few days; the egomaniacal people he'd met there, the flesh dissolving rain, terraforming blue sand (Blue Sodding Sand?!), and the myriad of dead things in an otherwise idyllic landscape. Story of his life - he seemed destined to continually fight the living dead, in its many, corpse-foul forms. The harder he attempted to circumvent this, the more certain it was to find him. 

	[color=b8860b]"Dunno how I got out, Miss Sana. P'raps the same way I got in. Still got them knives what I snatched up out that way. Meat, too. Some o' them 'ard sausages an' jerky we been eatin' - Hellhound. Acquired me a taste for the sulphury bugger; thinkin' on writin' recipes most infernal for it. Maybe somethin' with eggs."[/color]

	He shrugged nonchalantly, continuing on his way.