[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Sana, Femnal, & The Group[/center][/b][hr][hr]

	[color=b8860b]"Bloody shame 'bout that."[/color] said Keystone in response to Sana's missing appetite. [color=b8860b]"Promised you decent breakfast, I did (oh, watch that step there, Miss), and I was thinkin' on makin' us a bit of Scramby Eggs and Shire Pudding. Maybe some - "[/color] Keystone stopped abruptly, calling to the proprietor, who was apparently still pursuing a previous engagement involving dry and/or wet heaving just out front. [color=b8860b]"Oi, Femnal! Usin' your kitchens. You gots any autumn cabbages back there? Like, big'uns? Eh..."[/color] and then immediately back to Sana, [color=b8860b]"Yeah, maybe some seared cabbage, what d'ya say?"[/color] 

	The broad man righted the overturned chamberpot with the toe of his boot, lest further movement cause what little remained to desecrate the balcony floor. [color=b8860b]"You go on ahead. It's be frightful impolite to get started half barearsed."[/color] he offered, referring to the fact that he was still shirtless. The time honored morning ritual of getting dressed was interrupted by events unfolding, and he meant to at least throw on a shirt before he advanced his morning. Ducking back into his room, Keystone located fresh clothing, not the least of which being a dark grey, woolen shirt that with three buttons fastening vertically near the collar, allowing for ease of slipping over one's head without the bother of laces. He also grabbed his masterfully constructed hide-and-leather coat. It was a respectable piece of personal protection, but needed a little repair after their tussle out in the woods. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt above his elbows, practical if we were indeed about to do a little kitchen work, but it also showed off his set of ornately etched bracers of masterful Dwarven craftsmanship. 

	Carrying his coat with him, Keystone carefully made his way downstairs and tossed his coat over the back of a chair at the group's table. Trying to ignore the sounds from outside and the various facial expressions of those gathered, he asked, [color=b8860b]"Right then, ah, who hasn't had breakfast yet?"[/color]