"You are very observant, Mr. Meriv, sir." began Keystone, letting a touch of his underclass accent slip, if but for a moment, "I'm not particularly versed in walking and speaking with magefolk, and prefer not to act in a manner unbecoming until I really get to know one." 

He retrieved his items and continued, "It has been a pleasure, good sir. P'raps I'll take a walk about, see how interest fares elsewhere in the enclave. At the very least, I'll sleep on your offer. You here most days?"

Keystone carefully tucked the scrolls and dagger away, and slowly walked away from Meriv's desk to browse his wares briefly. Afterwards, he explored other potential buyers and checked prices for identification. 

While browsing, Keystone took a moment to mentally speak with his more than somewhat put off cranial guest, "Hey there, Kaylee, umm... sorry you had to see that. Sometimes when I'm nervous or feeling a tad out-of-sorts with a situation, my brain sorts it with bloody colorful stories of things I'm not willing nor capable of doing. Believe you me, I thought it was a riotous bit of funnery. 'Cepting the dying. And the fire. And my bare arse being the cause of it all. Ok, that last bit was a stitch, but hey, I grew up in a horrid place. We didn't attend society plays. Bumfires (yeah, I says Bumfires) are cause for hours of adolescent giggles. Under any circumstance, they are patently incapable of what you witnessed inside my head earlier."

"Just wanted to say, sorry for grossly disturbing you. I'll try to keep my flights of fancy to a minimum."