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🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Johnathon Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple

Interacting With: Persephone, Yomdi

Keystone took in Persephone's words, nodding as she went along. Heh, yeah, I was there for Cremmy's facefull of belly-porridge. Bloody funny stuff, that. But anyways, I'm in. I'm not findin' myself with anything important to do just now, and I can use coin and contacts. One thing, though - I'd 'preciate if we'd stick together. I'd like to learn how you lot fight in Raven's Bluff, and I've got plenty of technique to trade. Deal?"

With the appearance of the old man in the frightfully stylish yellow turban, Keystone assumed a very puzzled look. As he inched closer, cane clickety clacketing on the polished stone floor, the stony pugilist's head cocked slightly to the side, not unlike a confused mastiff.

The old man didn't look like the Master of a temple, but in Keystone's experience on these matters, few of them fit the typical profile common to the musings of Bards. Still, most men like this Yomdi would have long since retired, or at least keep to their own devices while talented underlings saw to temple affairs at odd hours of the evening. Unless there was something more about him than his appearance let on, in any case.

Considering that his own western features and attire, not to mention his ungainly, uncultured manner of speech set him apart from any traveling martialist about which he had ever heard, a great benefit of doubt would be applied here. Keystone recovered from his momentary lapse of disbelief, tapped his knuckles together and bowed his head slightly. A gesture of respect, certainly, but very different from the bow most associated with the Xiang Monks, the group with which he claimed to be a disciple.

"I did, point of fact, come for incense, Master Yomdi." he began, trying to look respectful and unassuming. "Fair enough though, I would've paid a visit regardless. Best as I figure, it's standard polite for a visiting monk to introduce himself to a temple's Master, once he blows in town. Lets a man know he ain't 'bout to get into nothing shifty, if you take my meaning, sir."

Extending a hand in the manner of his initial upbringing, he continued. "I go by Keystone, Master Yomdi. Pugilist by trade, sir, though recent years have got me learning all manner of disciplines I ain't native to. I'm aimin' on taking these teachings back home and making it better for low-born folk like m'self."

Keystone looked to Persephone, slowly nodding to her. "The young Miss has given me word of a contract from a merchant name o' Cremwise, so it turns out that I'm leavin' come morning. That being what, I was hoping to spend an hour or two on your grounds, maybe talk supplies for the trip. This's a right lovely temple, by the by."

"Wouldn't you say, Miss?"

The Legend of Zelda: Decedents of the Hero (OPEN)

Third time's the charm.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

He had expected a hornet's nest, certainly. Not quite this, though.

The hammer thudded hard and solid into Keystone's chest, pushing with sheer force. While he retained his stance, the pugilist made elongated footprints as he slid backwards. The Dwarf meant business; his business mixed with the fury of a patriarch defending his own.

Keystone adopted a low, defensive stance, keeping his hands empty and open. "I ain't fightin' you, Avar. I told you what was what, first night in. Your girl's the only one has any control on this, what I can trust just now. And she already knew, Avar, before I asked."

It was a calculated guess, Saran had hinted so strongly that she was aware of what was happening. For all of her coyness, she knew a lot more than she let on. And Rocksteady, well... he didn't want to see it. But his protective instincts were undeniable, as was his strength. He'd do whatever he could to take care of his charge, well over contractual obligation or the value most men put on their word. Certainly Keystone's. The large man didn't want to fight his new friend, but his vicious attack may result in something outside of his control. Neither of them needed that.

"You should come with us. D'you hear me, Avar Rocksteady of the Delzoun Clan? You should do this with us."

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Johnathon Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple

Interacting With: Persephone, Temple Attendant

Keystone's arched his eyebrow, face brightening just a touch as Persephone stated that she was there to talk to him. Just as a warm smile began to pierce his stony visage, she continued her thought, deflating his ego somewhat (though not his interest in the offer). His face cycled quickly through minor disappointment and back to his default, resting stoicism.

"Well 'ello then, Miss... ...oh. <ahem> Cremwise. That innkeeper, Femnal, shouted me over at his direction a few minutes ago. Cremmy give you the details? Where, when, how much he's offerin'?

The Attendant quietly backed away, scurrying back to do whatever it is that attendants in this particular temple do when tasked with a request from strangers at odd hours of the evening. Between his sense of hospitalic duty and fleeting embarrassment for the massive pugilist, he felt it was best to see to the request with haste.

"I'm keen on stayin' for a bit, m'self. Clear my head, n'such. Don't suppose you're the introspective fisticuffy type, are you?"

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

That's why you hang out with religiously unaffiliated Monk types. Their adherence to personal philosophy over dogma lends itself to better cooking all around.

If the occasional digestive issue, anyway.

Titans of Gotham [Spots Available!]

Truth be told, I'm still fine with this one as is. Let's go with the team we've got. Or, as The Sphinx said, "A loss of manpower can be replaced by the addition of firepower."

Flesh out our powers some, (Lord knows El Sasquatcho's probability manipulation could use some attention) and the four of us remaining can form an excellent core group.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Johnathon Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple

Interacting With: Militia, Persephone, Temple Attendant

"Both of you, state your name and business."

The beginning of the assertion, "Both", struck Keystone just enough to preempt a cautionary glance to the side. His peripheral vision caught sight of the upcoming Persephone, otherwise alone. After assessing her presence as non-threatening, his attention reverted to the soldiery and their none-too-friendly request of his name and business.

Keystone took a moment to rub his temples, exhaling slowly. Times of war always seemed to bring a change of attitude, including more than a fair amount of repetition. The brawler had a flashback to his own home, clearly recalling the City Guard's incessant, nagging interrogation of, "What's all this, then?" at length. May as well have made it the city motto.

Well, if his land's slogan was "What's All This, Then?", the slogan of Salarn recently seemed very much to be "State Your Name And Business".

Keystone couldn't blame the militiamen for their minor blusters of self-importance. Little rituals like this gave the men courage and a sense of solidarity. These were part-time soldiers; common folk, not too different from himself in that regard. Still, Keystone had a moral imperative to screw with them.

"Aw, for Gravy's sake, you lot stop fiddling with each other's danglies, eh?" he rumbled out in a low, quiet(ish) voice. It got louder as he continued. "I am Master Keystone of the Northern Ironfist Temple, comin' to seek Spiritual Fonging Enlightenment."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Well, it was, but in the classical sense only. Keystone did have a spot for personal training back home, it was toward the north, comparatively speaking, and his principle technique was Iron Fist. He had trained others, as well, but all of these things had yet to coalesce into the grand vision of his own temple back home. He had plans, though. Big ones.

"Didja not get word already? Eh? I've come a long way on foot to be 'ere, and 'ere I am, wasting all m'good breath for mantras and supplications and whatnot on the likes of you tosspots. That answer enough, yet? D'ya need to know anything else? Boot size, favorite color? Whether I likes my womenfolk plump or scrawny? P'raps you'd care to see the birthmark on my arse. Or p'raps you could offer to open the sodding door for us. 'k?"

Utter shock and confusion gripped the irregular soldier in front of the Yellow Rose. His post mates had already fallen back, more confused than shocked at the verbal barrage of the intimidating man (that they suspected might not actually be a priest). But, he wasn't an Orc, which was mostly what they cared about. Slowly, wordlessly, he responded to Keystone's request and placed a his hands on one of the double doors, pulling it open to allow entrance.

Keystone looked questioningly to his new companion, the dark haired lady that had come up behind him, and entered the Yellow Rose.

Stepping just into the vestibule, the broad-shouldered pugilist sought out the attentions of the first person that looked like they belonged there. An oddly rustic man, as the others around him, approached. Keystone spoke flatly but with softened voice, "Apologies for the late visit. Was hoping to introduce m'self to your Master; I'm a visiting Xiang Disciple from a ways off. Turns out, I've got a hair of a problem, though - Unloaded a dragon's share of colonic Chi over at Femnal's, damned near wrecked the place. Hoping to buy some incense off'n you, chase out the last of it.

"Ain't a bloody clue why the lady's here, though." Keystone shifted his attention, "You here for incense, too?"

From elsewhere in the township, Keystone could hear the muffled sound of someone roaring, "LOB, GOOD! LOB, SIT!" and wondered what it could be about. Another mystery for later in the evening, maybe.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

You have yet to witness Keystone's posterior in action when paired with a lit candle. Save vs. Breath Weapon was required. Not kidding.

But I digress; that is NOT his primary function in a group. Keystone is a Pugilist with advanced Fighting Monk training. The petition for FEMA dollars due to his bran-heavy diet is incidental.

<ahem> @Luminosity! If it's your intent for Persephone to catch up to him at the temple, I'm going to hold off until our benevolent GM posts about us arriving there.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

@Luminosity
I'm assuming that Persephone is headed toward the temple to catch up with Keystone. (If I'm off, let me know, please.) With that in mind, is she coming in quiet, casual, or fast and noisy?

It'll affect how he handles the situation of being followed by a stranger in the early hours of the evening, far away from home, in a town beset by attacks from vicious, toe-licking Orcs.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Johnathon Keystone

Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Femnal, Scullery Crew

The alteration of sulphurous yolks into a burnable form was a very simple process, if one knew how. Carefully, Keystone cracked the eggs and strained the yolks away from the whites. Proper applications of heat and agitation combined with a couple kitchen staples yielded a pale yellow, chalky paste in very short order. Another moment of preparation had a half dozen ceramic ramekins loaded with one good-sized oven coal each and a spoonful of yolk paste, evenly arrayed on a large serving platter with a covered plate in the center. As he exited the kitchen, he called back to the scullions still inside, "Many thanks, you. You might want to throw a bit of sage and some winter mint in with that roast, but very nice, anyways."

Deftly, Keystone walked around the common room, placing the smoking ramekins evenly about the area. The smell of vinegar and burning egg yolk cut through the air, quickly overtaking the more pungent (and vorpal) odor of The Asspocalypse. The odor, while not the most pleasant in the world, was without doubt preferable to the environment of five minutes prior.

The last ramekin was reserved for the upstairs, or more appropriately put, The Source. Keystone deposited it in a safe spot and returned downstairs, only the covered plate remaining on the serving tray. This was reserved for the proprietor, still recovering from a vomitous heave almost as epic as the arseblast which caused it.

"Right then, Squire. Problem seen to, per request." began Keystone, his underclass accent prominent in his speech, "If'n you'll pardon my assumin', sir, you're going to get proper hungry in a minute or three. I've got you set up here with somethin' that'll sit heavy and gentle."

For just a second or two, Keystone removed the plate cover. Still venting savory steam, therein waited thick slices of toast with butter and clotted cream, a cheesy egg white omelette garnished with young celery leaves, and syrupy, sliced peaches. It was an amount suitable to a man of Keystone's size; it should fill the belly of a Gnome sufficiently and to spare.

"Now, I'm off to that temple one of your serving girls told me about. Yellow Rose, or some such? Maybe I can pick up some incense there, what can chase out the last of the sulphur. By your leave, sir."

Keystone balled his hands into fists and tapped his knuckles together lightly while giving a curt bow. It looked like a motion practiced thousands of times, part of a point of discipline foreign to not only the culture in which the errant pugilist found himself in then, but his own culture as well.

Without further ado, Keystone made his way toward the Yellow Rose temple, directions gathered from the barmaid earlier in the evening.