Surprise struck Keystone as solidly as a fist might. Whether this new voice was Kaylee's true one, or a separate entity altogether, this issue was obviously not over. Uneasiness washed over any feeling of relief he may have had at Telflamm's victory over the army of the dead, or the defeat of Glith. 

His feelings on the matter echoed the expression on his face, one not unlike that of the Xiang Temple Master who very unexpectedly graced his presence shortly thereafter. Keystone returned his bow as best he could, mimicking depth and duration. Obviously the elder Elf had something he wanted to take care of, so he kept social interaction at a quiet "Thank you". 

Then came the Merchant's Council Welcome Brigade. Upon hearing that the Council wished to speak with him, "requesting" his presence by way of three Red Wizards and a handful of gargantuan slabs of muscle. And some fat official, obviously very important (if he does say so himself). He leaned onto Glith's sword for support, and started to chuckle. 

"Yeah. Yeah, no problem, squire." He laughed a little harder, straining his fresh wounds. He really couldn't help himself, though. This was [i]rich[/i]. Leaning forward, he entered into a state of almost uncontrollable guffawing, spilling a bit more of his blood from his chest wounds upon the cobblestones beneath him. Sincere amusement playing across his face, he straightened somewhat and continued, "The Merchant's Council wants to see me NOW? Now that the threat has passed. I have been runnin' myself bloody ragged the past few, trying like mad to get someone to listen or help, and NOW the City Bloody Fathers want to have a chat, eh? Will there be crumpets and tea, then?" 

He burst into another laughing fit, but this time tried to force it down. The assembly around him didn't seem to find it quite as humorous as he did, and all this laughing was starting to genuinely hurt. "I have a few things I'd like to say to the Council, myself. I don't think this problem's over. If'n you wouldn't mind, Good Sir Merchant, I've wounds need tending. Doubtful the important people of the Council'd want me bleeding all over their expensive tiles and carpeting. I'd be happy to tag along after."