By the time Keystone returned to the wealthy lady, she had already procured bodyguards for her offspring, politely declining the monk's services as she yelled instructions to her staff, busy packing up to head out of town. Elated by the mercenary's mention of the Grandmaster, she threw him a few silvers and walked away, clearly concerned with far too many things.

The merchant, a portly man by the name of Harfen, was very happy to see a fresh pair of hands willing to help him, pleading with the monk how he had lost 'over half his wares' in the last hours alone. With little bartering, the merchant offered Keystone a crummy 20 gold to serve as his guard for the remainder of the day and the next morning, starting immediately, when all the supplies would be loaded onto a caravan and shipped off. If the monk could prevent all theft during this time, Harfen promised he'd throw in some 'invaluable things for a traveler', as he called them. The portly man never elaborated what those things were.

The Merchant's square was packed to the brim, many purchasing the last essential things before they headed out of town, or desperately trying to offload the few remaining supplies before the city came under siege. On the corner of the square, in a low hovel that looked incredibly out of place in the city, the sounds of hammer and hissing water never wavered, never stopped, even as the square slowly bled dry of all other sales and craftsmen. The few stubborn suppliers that remained, were working to give the city guard the best chance of winning, crafting or preparing weapons, armour and supplies.

"Oi, get yer hairless arse 'ooer here, Tim!" yelled the dwarf. A young boy came running out of a storeroom, grabbing a hot blade the dwarf nonchalantly threw in the air shortly after his call. With practiced ease, Tim dumped the scalding blade in cold water, coughing from the cloud of steam exploding out of the bucket. "Master Rocksteady, we have two more orders from the Merchant's Council for blades, to be delivered tomorrow!" he called out, pulling the blade free of the water and inspecting it.
"Dem 'umans think we've got all the dwarves in the Realms to help us do their work!" the dwarf yelled back, extracting a second blade from the oven, its steel white hot, and hammering away. "Tell 'em I'd be more than happy, if they be willin' to pay me double, the greedy runts!"