With sincere gratitude, Keystone accepted the old Dwarf's offer. Careful to maintain appearances, he bowed in the manner of a Xiang Monk, twice, and entered the low room. After the door closed behind him, the large man took a tentative sip from the mug handed to him, and forced himself to maintain composure as he swallowed. 

Best efforts on his part bore fruit, well enough that he didn't make an ugly face, anyway. He did mutter a quiet, "...bloody 'ell..." as he exhaled, curious as to how the Dwarf had access to the alley-distilled raw liquor (or something similar) of his homeland. The main difference in this instance was, however, that his people cut it into other, more tolerable liquids for actual consumption. To its credit, he next sip was easier. Perhaps it was simply an acquired taste. 

He pulled up a chair with as much politeness as he could muster despite his common upbringing, and gave a weary smile toward Tim and the tall woman. He turned his attention to Rocksteady, and thanked him sincerely for allowing him into his abode with the offer of a meal. 

The sight of the food displayed openly reminded the burly warrior that he was actually quite hungry, now that adrenaline and threat of immediate dismemberment had passed. Keystone took modest portions for himself, aware of the fact that he was an unexpected guest in the home of a person he'd met only once. This act of kindness earned he and his family(?) the truth, top to bottom. Over supper. And booze.  

He started with the first night in Two Stars, accepting the job offer, his change of heart (when he realized he was hired to be a strongarm thief), and everything else leading up to Kaylee taking up residence in his head. Keystone tended to be very technical with descriptions of the fights he had, making mention of attack and parry combinations, counteroffensive strikes, even the street names of improvised maneuvers and proper applications. "Y'ever fishhook somebody? Nasty, that." 

He was emphasizing his story using jabs and swipes with a bare chicken leg, until he was offered another. At which time, he took a big bite and continued his tale, this time emphasizing with a partially bare chicken leg. His story curved around the suspicions he had concerning the Thayan Enclave and the residents therein, apparent the corruption of the city officials, and the hospitality, though temporary, of the Xiang Temple. 

He finished off by describing (in somewhat less detail) his fight with Glith. While not saying outright what he had to do to subdue the Undead Knight, he did mention that in the end, he had to rely heavily on a connection to Elemental Earth to keep himself alive. When he was finished, he looked to his hosts, and apologized. 

"My sincerest, I promised both a gift and a commission. Master Rocksteady, I was going to offer you another flask of my Own home's booze. I can see you've got a far better spirit for drinking, but p'raps I can offer your ladyfriend something for cooking: A bit of Plum Spirits from the Xiang Temple. Ma'am?" Keystone recovered his pack and fished out a flask, setting it on the table in front of him. "Supper was right settling, ma'am. I'm no slouch in the kitchen myself, and I'd appreciate trading some food learning with you, if'n you're for it." 

"I also mentioned a commission, Master Smith." continued Keystone in an optimistic tone. The big man set his signature brass knuckles, mottled and engraved with thusfar unidentifiable markings, near Rocksteady on the table. "They've saved my arse more than once, and they're the closest thing to a weapon I regularly use. I'd find use with more contemporary spares. P'raps suitable for some magicking later on. Got confidence that a Dwarf of your experience can improve upon the design of these; they're more street weapon than not. Can talk details later." 

Keystone dug out the Time Stop scroll, and handed it directly to Rocksteady. "This was appraised by the Red Wizards at 1,900 gold coins. I've no use for it, and I have a feeling I can't return to the Enclave for some time. Consider it payment." 

"Glith's sword is supposed to be a prison, what keeps Kaylee's spirit trapped." He hefted the massive weapon, and thunked it, wrappings and all, onto the table next to the wine. "Two birds, one stone. This is proper steel, not a bit of fleck or brown on it. I want you to take this thing apart, and use it to make the order. We can talk about whatever's left over after." 

"Yeah, one more thing - Lots of metal there. I want you to make part of it into a big-arsed Waffle Iron. Plans, I've got. Big, waffley plans."