Keystone
Location: (running down the) Road North of Salarn, Day Three
Interacting With: His Rising Irritation
"Bloody bronzecocking wankstain!" growled Keystone. He had so many questions now, the answers to which he felt less and less compunction about beating from their employer. If he saw something and got spooked, that would mean a change in plan from hard and scary interaction to a mere scolding, but the timing was way to coincidental. Plus, the unconscionable bastard still had all of his stuff on that wagon. All of his supplies, provisions, and a huge hunk of his personal finances - representative of his time, blood, and fallen comrades.
Some of the items in his pack would also be considered very valuable in this part of the world. Most of his treasures were being held in reserve for plans he put into action years ago (and had yet to complete). The lady he started this grand foray into lunacy with, Kyra, was in pursuit faster than he was fully aware of the situation; others were following suit. And obviously, the terms of his contract were just rendered moot. For those reasons, and a couple of lesser motivations, Keystone chose to haul ass after Cremwise and his wagon.
Keystone was not a sprinter, at least not amazingly better than a man of his size ordinarily would be, but he was a stellar distance runner. His endurance bordered on the legendary, but he could not outsprint a horse. Or whatever it really was up there. He could not simply sit there and do nothing, so in the second or two in which this bunkum all started, the irate brawler grabbed his covered pan by the handle on one end and a work towel on the other, and hauled ass back down the road with all of the speed an grace his situation allowed him.
The moment he caught up, someone was going to have some quality face time with Sweet Missus Brick.