[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h3][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Road North of Salarn, Midday of Day Three [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] His Former Contractor, His Wagon, & Company [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Now usually, when someone decides that it's best to go giving Keystone orders, he balks at the task. Not that he'd do a poor job, whatever said task may be, but his initial reaction generally has a "You asking or are you telling?" theme represented throughout. Sometimes though, just sometimes, his greater sense of duty propels him to going with authority. 

	If memory served, Cremwise [i]specifically instructed[/i] Keystone to follow Kyra's lead. He had no idea why; maybe it was because she was hired first. Who knows what motivates the whims of shifty merchants? At first, the concept irritated him. When they disagreed on travel and camping issues, first quietly and then loudly, Keystone gave serious consideration to extending a rude gesture and taking a jog back to Salarn. But the past three days had mellowed the massive brawler. Made him realize that he was part of a group again, and as such he wasn't going to always have final say. 

	Keeping this new mindset firmly in the fore of his thoughts, he gave a grin as Kyra suggested strongly that he give the wagon a once-over. [color=b8860b]"Well there, Miss Kyra,"[/color] he began, his voice still growling a bit but quickly filling with sarcastic confidence, [color=b8860b]"You're the Guard Captain, an' I'm just the bounder what cooks meals. I ought get on that."[/color]

	Keystone looked to Cremwise and cocked his head slightly to the side. [color=b8860b]"Bird's good to go, Boss. Save a leg for Sana though, eh?"[/color] He left the pan where it lay, still barely venting the smells of braised goose flesh, tea, and light spirits, and moved to what remained of the wagon. He removed his own pack and gave it a quick glance to ensure that it hadn't been overtly damaged by the crash, then set it out of the wagon. Before he peeled back layers of canvas and opening containers, he felt it was pertinent to speak a few words to his associates (even the bear) around him. 

	[color=b8860b]"Right then. Ladies, Gen'lemen, umm... Big-arsed Furry Buggers, no matter what we're findin' in here, remember we're still rompin' about in a bloody 'ostile patch o' dirt, yeah? We stick close, we leave whole. I got enough provisions can last us a few more days, need be. Alright? 'Ere we go."[/color]
	
	The tarps flew back under the sudden rough manipulation of the veteran Pugilist, as did any readily openable lids. Keystone peered inside to what had been uncovered, again putting on his impression of one of the Guards from back home - the kind that made his youthful years more interesting. [color=b8860b]Well, what's all this, then?"[/color]