[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three/Morning of Day Four [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Bloody Smudge In The Air [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Keystone had heard the expression "hold a tiger by the tail", before. It was an idiom that described having a dangerous situation in a seemingly advantageous position, only to realize too late that it is just as perilous to keep hold of it as let go. But the errant Pugilist hadn't a tiger - a creature bound by the laws of mammalian physiology; the kind of creature you could riddle with arrows or drive a blade through. Or, if you were a man of Keystone's bulk and conditioning, wrap both hands around the offending kitty's tail and beat it into a striped skin-sack of pulp and shattered bones upon a sufficiently hard object. A large rock would have sufficed. No, Keystone had a death grip on the tendril of a blood consuming, semi-corporeal undead creature. Possibly for the first time in its unlife, puny mortals had caused it harm. It was afraid now. Scared beasts were far more dangerous than merely predatory ones. 

	Of course, no one had to tell him this. As Keystone was very much aware, he had ahold of said creature by one of its manifested, misty tendrils. He was unsure exactly how long he could keep this up, considering the solid-but-not-solid condition of the pinkish red bastard, but as long as he could immobilize it, he was going to do just that. Maybe give enough opportunity for someone to finish the thing off. But just now, hitting the thing was immeasurably difficult without the aid of magic. 

	Then it dawned on him: His big, bone handled knife! It caused quick and easy damage when he threw it, if not extremely impressive in severity. And it was expelled right through the bottom of the Mist after it had made its wound. Keystone craned his neck around, locating the hurled piece of masterful steel. It was glinting coldly in the moonlight, on the ground several feet away. It would be so much more useful in someone's hands than on the icy woodland floor. 

	Digging his heels in as best he could, given the circumstances, Keystone begins his attempt to drag the creature back with him, his other arm outstretched to his lightly enchanted blade. His eyes darted about to the members of his group that were presently unsure or unable to do anything direct thusfar in the conflict, and he bellowed, [color=b8860b]"Hey! Rest o'you tosspots get offa your arses! Get the bloody knife and make use of it, or I'll 'ave at ya next!"[/color]