[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]

	Keystone laid a massive, scarred paw over Sana's hand as she squeezed his arm, his eyes following her briefly as she walked out of the room. Suddenly remembering himself, the broad man snapped his head back around, participating in the last bit of the conversation in his own, monosyllabic way. He grunted slightly as Kyra asked the group whether anyone else had a weapon to be silvered and the raw materials/payment to make it happen, intending to get in on this little upgrade. 

	Granted, Keystone had spent a more than fair amount of time honing his unarmed combat abilities, even to the point of somehow suppressing his less rational tendencies just enough to receive Monk training that allowed him to strike entities and forces generally untouched by anything but magic and/or restricted to specific materials. Allowing himself to be opened to his own circulating life energies burst open a door in Keystone's training, giving him access to a world of pugilistic abilities previously beyond his imagination. With that in mind though, turning down a good, solid, mundane means of beating his enemies into a broken, pulpy mass of meat and bone would be silly. [color=b8860b]"Yeah... Yeah! Gimmie a sec on that. Gots me [i]just[/i] the thing."[/color] 

	He jogged out of the room, angling for his own quarters just down the hall. He slipped inside and scooped up his hardened, segmented leather long coat. He quickly returned to Kyra and the group and plunked down a small stack of silver. [color=b8860b]"Right then. I've 'ad these since as long as I can remember."[/color] Keystone reached into pockets on his coat, built to be concealed by the reinforced segmentation. He pulled out a pair of brass knuckles, somewhat crude in construction but with a look of dead serious functionality, sized for a man with fists the size of hams. Someone like Keystone, point of fact. He set them down on the table next to his silver coins (that looked oddly like the same coins he got from Cremwise a week ago), and backed up a pace. Be they bereft of specific style, they were well formed, mottled, and downright intimidating in their simplicity. Moreover, the set of knuckle dusters had a series of runes gouged deeply and repeatedly into them, as if someone had furrowed them in with a nail while the metal was still soft and squared up the edges after. 

	[color=b8860b]"Nobody but me's had them in their possession since I got 'em, and I got 'em a long while back, y'understand? Nothin' particular about 'em, near as I can tell; they just go back to my days as a common brawler. If'n you can get silver inlayed an' them back to me safe, I'd be grateful."[/color] Looking down at his coat, he noted one or two areas that could benefit from the quick attention of one versed in leathercraft. [color=b8860b]"Y'know, I'd also be grateful if one o' you could put me in the direction of a decent armorer or leather worker, if one's still in town."[/color]