As Keystone stood, acquiescing to Saran's attentions and admonishings, a look of irritated suspicion grew across his visage. He looked to Avar, working again at his forge, and to the calmly meditating Grom. A second or two passed after Saran ceased speaking before Keystone turned his head back toward her, giving an affirmation that he was indeed listening. 

"Horses, yeah. I'll be along in a bit, then."

Forcing a neutral expression, he strode back into the Rocksteady household to retrieve his pack. He took a spare second to inspect the folds of his coat on top, ensuring that it had not been disturbed in his absence. Satisfied, he pulled out a bandoleer of kunai and a coinpouch containing several platinum pieces before shouldering the burden. 

On his way back out, Keystone set the small bag of coins down near Avar, and said flatly, "I'm keeping to our accord, regardless. A quarter of those coins are yours, if this ain't profitable. Rest of 'em - they're so's you know I'll be returning." 

As an afterthought, Keystone added, "Still owe me that waffle iron, y'old cocker." His last words were softer, almost apologetic in tone. He'd hoped the subtle change in inflection would be picked up by the older Dwarf, at least some inkling as to the words that weren't said in that moment; Keystone harbored no ill will toward the craftsman. 

He gave a piercing stare to Grom, and left without further interaction.  

Walking back to Saran, Keystone slipped the bandoleer about his torso, adjusting it for easy access. He looked to his new adventuring partner. He was partly curious about why she changed attire, partly curious about the real reason Avar became violent, then backed off. A test of some kind, he was betting. All the more reason not to exchange blows with the elder Dwarf. Still, he didn't particularly like being uninformed. It seems that was his constant state of existence since landing in Telflamm; everyone else knowing more about the situation he had to fight his way through. 

The irritation continued to show across his face. Still, he kept stoically to the business at hand. "Horses, then graveyard. Then we put this city behind us." he said in a low, quiet voice. Not quite a growl, so much as a deep intonation. "When we're on the road, we can speak more freely."

"For just the now, though, why the armor change?"