[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Deymins Tower (2F) [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] A2 - and [i]bringin' the pain![/i] [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	The sudden advance of the undead minions within their metal casings did not come as a shock to the stalwart and experienced warrior. No, quite the opposite. He had been battling the likes of the Undead for what seemed an eternity, despite never having special training for the purpose nor originally any especial hatred of them, past what the common man had for things which went against the natural order of the world. He had begun to develop such a hatred, however. Be it the existence of these things or the Powers That Be which seemed to constantly throw the slab of martially trained anger and physical power known as Johnathon Illium Keystone, the big man had a deep, bubbling resentment for something. That or gas. One could never tell until [i]something[/i] erupted, and every god in whatever pantheon you hold sacred help you if you were around for either. 

	It came as no surprise then, when Keystone launched himself at the remaining dead guy. Cynebear had already taken a massive swipe out of one, and the poor, dead bastard was still standing. Well, kudos on the reanimated lackey, but it would not be upright for very much longer. He covered the distance with an amazing feat of athleticism, his massive fist raised into a vicious overhand right, footwork... um... Ok, I've got this. <ahem> Footwork sliding into a, ah.... damnit. Ok, I [i]had[/i] this. 

	 So, the fist was up like so, and the other arm was pulled back into a fist-in-socket position, or not because an overhand right uses a different stance than most martial arts that uses a fist-in-socket position as a follow up. So, maybe Keystone's mastery of multiple styles of martial arts, both Oriental and Occidental, led him tumbling into the pugilistic equivalent of a brain fart, thusly locking him into an odd state of confusion. He glanced to his fist, looked to his feet, seemingly half-oblivious to the thing in front of him. No, no... I've got this. High front stance, move that fist over there, and... Ok, he's got nothing. Hopefully the next guy's got him, because Keystone has to get his head back in the game if he's going to continue today.