[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] The Group[/center][/b][hr][hr]

	It wasn't the first time people had placed bets on him. Once upon a time, it was a commonplace event. He was younger, almost as broad as he was now, and people chanted his name, exchanged money and gave each other congratulatory slaps on the back as a blood streaked Keystone roared in self-adulating, territorial victory. Yet another opponent lay broken and bloody on the ground, soon to be dragged from the scene by the same people that would have carted away his worthless ass, were he the one who took the beating. In a couple of weeks Yeah, people loved to put money down on what might or might not be able to inflict on others. 

	No matter what the others did with their money, he wasn't going to partake in the festivities this time. Whatever happened, happened. But if he [i]was[/i] able to make Femnal vent his porridge across the landscape every time they spent an appreciable time with one another, it would be effort well spent in very unsubtle retaliation for helping that piss-poor, double dealing merchant Cremwise recruit him for a suicidal fool's errand. 

	Right at that moment, he had other plans. Those plans involved preparing a more than decent repast cobbled together out of whatever they had left in the kitchen and larders. He took a step from the table, pausing in his retreat to food production when he caught Thomas's last question to the newcomer Dwarf. [color=b8860b]"Same place the group's cook learns a small blade, I imagine."[/color] he responded, words colored by his omnipresent urban underclass accent. [color=b8860b]"Same reason, too. You'd be wise to get in some stabby-stabby practice y'self, Tommy ol' boy. Never know. And [i]you[/i]..."[/color] he switched gears over to Nor, [color=b8860b]"Barber, yeah? Let's talk rates after, then. I've got a tiny piece o' coin and a week of face neglect needs attendin'. Wait, 'old on..."[/color] He could still hear Femnal retching, and wondered how long he was going to be out there. Opportunity!

	With a grin, Keystone poked his head into the kitchen. There was that same, dumpy guy there as last night. Understaffed still. Must be. [color=b8860b]"Oi! Oi you there! Master Femnal needs you on cleanup! Some festerin' wanksplat kicked over a bloody chamberpot on the balcony. Don't you worry 'bout the kitchen, I'll cover ya."[/color] 

	[color=b8860b]"C'mon then! 'aven't got all mornin'!"[/color] 

	...breakfast time.