Keystone registered a look of surprise as Avar Rocksteady dropped the blade to the floor. "That... was new. Been carrying the thing all day, sir, never had m'hands near explode. It must be something awful."

His peripheral senses caught the scared boy, Tim, reaching for a blade. Uncertain as to whether the kid would actually make a move, or was doing so merely for the reassurance of being armed with a potentially dangerous stranger in the house, Keystone tried to handle the situation with tact. 

Ordinarily, the concept of tact in interactive situations was as out of grasp as the town Cleric's wife during a high holiday for the lumbering man, but this manner of social influence was one in which he had a some background. He was, after all, a former tavern peacekeeper. With eyes focused on Rocksteady still, Keystone raised the volume of his voice so the frightened apprentice would know he was really addressing him as he began, 

"If I make you nervous, Tim, I can leave." Keystone slowly turned to face him, moderately satisfied that the youth would not immediately attempt to attack. "Adventuring types pick up lotsa souvenirs, boy. Not all of 'em pleasant, neither. Duty keeps things with you, till you know what needs being done. Where I'm at now, it is."

He returned to Rocksteady's gaze, "My 'pologies again, sir. I must not know what I've got, here. If'n you want my absence, I'd be keen on giving it to you." Keystone began gathering the sword from the floor, re-wrapping it in cloth and securing it behind the shoulder straps of his pack. "Talk to me about your friend, the metal merchant, and I'll make sure we're both happy soon as I unload the scroll. Either way, Master Smith, you've been more than kind to a tired soldier today."

As the opportunity arose, Keystone formed words in the forefront of his mind, "New home? First I've heard of the possibility. What would you need?"