RPM
Zman
Shadow Dragon
Not a Sayan
Simply Not Real
Fetzen
Lewascan2
Arty Fox
Lady Absinthia
Hearing Kaylee’s impassioned disapproval of his plan and departing from his forethoughts, Keystone slammed the palm of his hand into his face and slowly dragged downward. The initial slapping sound was massive. The large man voiced his frustration at having another idea stymied by issuing a low grunt that, upon further reflection of his situation, turned into a full-throated growl. Were there a suitably dense barrier nearby that needed a large aperture, he would have gladly slammed his head through it.
After giving himself time to think on the matter, Keystone realized that this new revelation still didn’t change Step One in his ever evolving master plan to free Kaylee and potentially turn a profit. He had to look for answers anyway – going to the experts at the Thayan Enclave was right out. A defined lack of trust and personal funds would make that a difficult and risky proposition at best. The plan must continue, for his sake as well as Kaylee’s.
Then again, that was another issue. If she required an actual, living body to inhabit, that would deny someone else their life. While it wasn’t putting someone to the knife, it would be equivalent to the deliberate murder of an innocent. There was the line he wasn’t willing to cross. Step Two of his master plan would have to be an idea on how to circumvent this. But how does one create an empty vessel for a spirit to inhabit? It made his head hurt. Keystone was trained to hit people. It’s what he did, better than anything else. Fabrication of a living body was a little outside of his Zone of Competence.
Okay, Step One, first: Find out what the dead mages recorded about Kaylee, if anything, and salvage any useful goods or materials from their hideouts. Reverin’s tiny tower still held equipment and scrolls; Raa and Keystone did not have time to give a thorough inventory of the place before all hell broke loose. There was profit to be made there, if not so much expected in the way of relevant information. Erepar’s dwelling would most likely yield information, as he had time to study the sword that held Kaylee when Keystone first arrived.
A thought struck Keystone – The sword, what purpose did it serve? Was it another piece of this puzzle? Would it be another unwieldly hunk of metal he’d have to carry around but never use? Gods knew he didn’t want to end up like Erepar’s Naked Manservant (and what happened to that thing, anyway?).
These were all questions for a later time. Right now, he had to prepare the Telflamm Rocksteady Clan’s meals for the day.
Preparation of food was made less of a chore (not that he minded in the least) with Saran’s help. Her answers, while evasive, served to brighten his mood a bit since the intracranial discussion he had earlier with Kaylee. Again, she managed to avoid answering his questions while still giving him conversation. Upon hearing her list of possibilities and hypotheticals, Keystone tilted his head to the side, not unlike a confused mastiff, and gave her a piercing gaze. Slowly, a smile formed, accompanied by an affirming bob of his head.
“Yeah, mental intrusions do suck it, Miss Saran. You… …are going to confuse me for quite some time. Looking forward to puzzling you out though, I am. C’mon then, let’s roast some ducks.”
Suppertime conversation seemed to put Keystone on the defensive. At least a bit. He addressed Saran first:
“Really? That’s a right befuddling piece of news, then. Unless the couriers’re ensorcelled somehow, anyway, but I know nothin’ of magic nor the people what practice it. Alright, if the town’s still in good order, then the structures I’m talking ‘bout still stand solid, and with no rightful owners alive. Also, should be a proper Inn to rest up in. If it’s true, I’m glad the survivors aren’t sleeping under the weather, as it were.”
On Avar’s concerns, Keystone responded flatly, “Can’t speak for all magefolk, Master Rocksteady. Me an’ the Paladin I was traveling with exchanged notes after the fact. The man hired us to rob someone. He made regular use of undead creatures, what killed one of the people in their, ah, ‘job interview’, and tried to drag the corpse away for reasons unknown. That, and Good Sir Knight mentioned he detected lots of nastiness from the Earth Elemental the bugger used as an attack dog. I’m fairly positive that Elementals aren’t generally aligned, and that raises some questions for me.”
“Now, I only knew the man for an evening, but he left an unfavorable impression. That other pointy-hat, Erepar? He seemed ok. Even concerned for our safety when the Big Nasty rolled into town. But I knew him for even less time. Bloody ‘ell, Avar, for all I know, Rev’s secretly the hero here and I’m all villainous, but don’t know the half of it.”
Keystone shook his head, completing his thought with a simple, profound sentence: “It’s hard to do the right thing when you don’t know what it is, Master Rocksteady.”
Keystone wasn’t absolutely certain what tone Tim used as the boy asked him if he would be returning to Two Stars. Maybe he’d been shaken by the abruptness of their first meal together, and the hard feelings stayed, if only in part. Maybe he just didn’t like the scarred brawler. It was as good a possibility as any; Keystone didn’t exactly inspire warm feelings of love and togetherness, generally. When he did, experience taught him to be guarded. It was possible that this boy, this guileless smithy’s apprentice, was more honest with him than most. Keystone regarded him thusly, and returned to the conversation with this in mind.
“Yeah, Tim. Giving thought to going back there for a short while, get some answers. Try to, at least. I intend on returning, y’see. Give you lot your share of the profits, if any. I’ll need some things before I set out, expedited by the reputations of Miss Saran and your Master Rocksteady. That’s why I’m insisting on splitting the profits.”
His attention turned to the others at the table, “I’ll make out a list, if you’re willing to go in with me on this little enterprise.”
“Avar, I am honored you’d let me into your home, and have allowed me to stay for this time. And I get it; I’m surely throwing off your house’s routine. Corrupting and whatnot. Hey, attracting the working girls, eh? Didn’t notice, rather caught in my routine. They buy anything? I can see crafting a line of stilettos and sash-knives, earring darts and the like, for the Professional Market Lady’s self-defense. If’n they like it, I might could teach them how to make with the fisticuffs an’ stabby-stabby, build customer loyalty. Maybe make the Market Square safer at night. …just thinking out loud, sir. (AHEM) Anyway, if I’m going to be back in town for a while, it’d be prudent t’get my own place, yeah.” Keystone glanced at Saran briefly before continuing, “But I’d be wantin’ to make it quite nearby.”
“So, that ring, Miss Saran. Any suggestions on what to do with it? I’d not dare try it on m’self.”
After supper, Keystone set to drafting his list before turning in. He left it sitting on the table, again with an appropriate stack of coins.
After giving himself time to think on the matter, Keystone realized that this new revelation still didn’t change Step One in his ever evolving master plan to free Kaylee and potentially turn a profit. He had to look for answers anyway – going to the experts at the Thayan Enclave was right out. A defined lack of trust and personal funds would make that a difficult and risky proposition at best. The plan must continue, for his sake as well as Kaylee’s.
Then again, that was another issue. If she required an actual, living body to inhabit, that would deny someone else their life. While it wasn’t putting someone to the knife, it would be equivalent to the deliberate murder of an innocent. There was the line he wasn’t willing to cross. Step Two of his master plan would have to be an idea on how to circumvent this. But how does one create an empty vessel for a spirit to inhabit? It made his head hurt. Keystone was trained to hit people. It’s what he did, better than anything else. Fabrication of a living body was a little outside of his Zone of Competence.
Okay, Step One, first: Find out what the dead mages recorded about Kaylee, if anything, and salvage any useful goods or materials from their hideouts. Reverin’s tiny tower still held equipment and scrolls; Raa and Keystone did not have time to give a thorough inventory of the place before all hell broke loose. There was profit to be made there, if not so much expected in the way of relevant information. Erepar’s dwelling would most likely yield information, as he had time to study the sword that held Kaylee when Keystone first arrived.
A thought struck Keystone – The sword, what purpose did it serve? Was it another piece of this puzzle? Would it be another unwieldly hunk of metal he’d have to carry around but never use? Gods knew he didn’t want to end up like Erepar’s Naked Manservant (and what happened to that thing, anyway?).
These were all questions for a later time. Right now, he had to prepare the Telflamm Rocksteady Clan’s meals for the day.
Preparation of food was made less of a chore (not that he minded in the least) with Saran’s help. Her answers, while evasive, served to brighten his mood a bit since the intracranial discussion he had earlier with Kaylee. Again, she managed to avoid answering his questions while still giving him conversation. Upon hearing her list of possibilities and hypotheticals, Keystone tilted his head to the side, not unlike a confused mastiff, and gave her a piercing gaze. Slowly, a smile formed, accompanied by an affirming bob of his head.
“Yeah, mental intrusions do suck it, Miss Saran. You… …are going to confuse me for quite some time. Looking forward to puzzling you out though, I am. C’mon then, let’s roast some ducks.”
Suppertime conversation seemed to put Keystone on the defensive. At least a bit. He addressed Saran first:
“Really? That’s a right befuddling piece of news, then. Unless the couriers’re ensorcelled somehow, anyway, but I know nothin’ of magic nor the people what practice it. Alright, if the town’s still in good order, then the structures I’m talking ‘bout still stand solid, and with no rightful owners alive. Also, should be a proper Inn to rest up in. If it’s true, I’m glad the survivors aren’t sleeping under the weather, as it were.”
On Avar’s concerns, Keystone responded flatly, “Can’t speak for all magefolk, Master Rocksteady. Me an’ the Paladin I was traveling with exchanged notes after the fact. The man hired us to rob someone. He made regular use of undead creatures, what killed one of the people in their, ah, ‘job interview’, and tried to drag the corpse away for reasons unknown. That, and Good Sir Knight mentioned he detected lots of nastiness from the Earth Elemental the bugger used as an attack dog. I’m fairly positive that Elementals aren’t generally aligned, and that raises some questions for me.”
“Now, I only knew the man for an evening, but he left an unfavorable impression. That other pointy-hat, Erepar? He seemed ok. Even concerned for our safety when the Big Nasty rolled into town. But I knew him for even less time. Bloody ‘ell, Avar, for all I know, Rev’s secretly the hero here and I’m all villainous, but don’t know the half of it.”
Keystone shook his head, completing his thought with a simple, profound sentence: “It’s hard to do the right thing when you don’t know what it is, Master Rocksteady.”
Keystone wasn’t absolutely certain what tone Tim used as the boy asked him if he would be returning to Two Stars. Maybe he’d been shaken by the abruptness of their first meal together, and the hard feelings stayed, if only in part. Maybe he just didn’t like the scarred brawler. It was as good a possibility as any; Keystone didn’t exactly inspire warm feelings of love and togetherness, generally. When he did, experience taught him to be guarded. It was possible that this boy, this guileless smithy’s apprentice, was more honest with him than most. Keystone regarded him thusly, and returned to the conversation with this in mind.
“Yeah, Tim. Giving thought to going back there for a short while, get some answers. Try to, at least. I intend on returning, y’see. Give you lot your share of the profits, if any. I’ll need some things before I set out, expedited by the reputations of Miss Saran and your Master Rocksteady. That’s why I’m insisting on splitting the profits.”
His attention turned to the others at the table, “I’ll make out a list, if you’re willing to go in with me on this little enterprise.”
“Avar, I am honored you’d let me into your home, and have allowed me to stay for this time. And I get it; I’m surely throwing off your house’s routine. Corrupting and whatnot. Hey, attracting the working girls, eh? Didn’t notice, rather caught in my routine. They buy anything? I can see crafting a line of stilettos and sash-knives, earring darts and the like, for the Professional Market Lady’s self-defense. If’n they like it, I might could teach them how to make with the fisticuffs an’ stabby-stabby, build customer loyalty. Maybe make the Market Square safer at night. …just thinking out loud, sir. (AHEM) Anyway, if I’m going to be back in town for a while, it’d be prudent t’get my own place, yeah.” Keystone glanced at Saran briefly before continuing, “But I’d be wantin’ to make it quite nearby.”
“So, that ring, Miss Saran. Any suggestions on what to do with it? I’d not dare try it on m’self.”
After supper, Keystone set to drafting his list before turning in. He left it sitting on the table, again with an appropriate stack of coins.