[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Leather Goods Shoppe [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Shopkeeper, Cyneburg [/center][/b][hr][hr] 

	Keystone was not much of a craftsman. Outside of Forging the Perfect Omelette, he spent his formative years living quite the urban upbringing. Generally, this meant that he lived a mostly vocationally specific existence, counting on others in the society to do the same, resulting in a sort of necessary codependency for life to push forward. In other words, he couldn't just grab a ton of raw materials like Cyneburg and make something useful for himself. Well, anything more useful than a tarp, and even then he only had a moderate chance of success if one handed him a large bundle of pre-sewn oiled leather, labeled: "TARP - no assembly required". 

	At any rate, leathercraft wasn't his thing, outside of sewing up the occasional split seam.  What he [i]could[/i] do was count out three silver coins and ask for his change back, which he promptly did before surrendering his masterful leather coat over to the trained professional. 

	Keystone had a half hour to kill before the coat was ready, barring any unforeseen hitches. To begin with, he took a look around the storefront, browsing through the wares to see if anything caught his eye. It was a strange feeling, looking around a shop while waiting for a repair. Like a slice of everyman normalcy, day-to-day errand running before stepping back into the [i]literal horror[/i] of his recent life. He might as well enjoy it while it lasted. Risking a piece of casual conversation, Keystone called back to the shopkeeper, [color=b8860b]"Oi! Many thanks for fit'n me in on the now, like y'did. Don't suppose you got anythin' of special interest for a bounder like m'self?"[/color]