The younger guard reeled back from the forceful interrogation by the large monk, cowering in fear and forgetting he had a weapon. The other guard took a definitive stance between the monk and his partner, staring down Keystone with ferocity matching the monk's own.

"How'd we know why that grave was disturbed? Maybe yer orc kin was buried earlier today, and I saw me some other orc two nights ago! If you're accusing us of tampering with that vermin's grave, you've got some real straw in that head o' yours, brawler. The dead are not to be disturbed!" A short metal screech alerted Keystone that the man had partially pulled his blade from its sheath. The guard stared at Keystone with a mix of anger and, yes, fear, but did not back down.

"If you came here to make trouble, rest assured that no matter how many taverns you've worked in, I can still send you crawling back to a healer," he hissed, puffing out his chest.