Keystone stopped in the middle of his stride, viewing the armor that plagued him over the past few weeks. He stretched a hand behind him, motioning for Saran to stay back. Through clenched teeth, he quietly intoned, "If anything happens, run." Saran had mentioned that she wasn't trained for combat, and this opponent was dangerous, [i]to the extreme[/i], even to experienced fighters. 

The headache was difficult to ignore, obviously. It had been a great while since he felt truly alone in his own head; he looked forward to ending this chapter of his life and reclaiming his inner space. Still, if this really were Glith in one form or another, some part of this story was still untold. 

As usual, Kaylee urged violence. True, violence was his forte. He might even say it himself if he knew what "forte" meant, but that was a thought for another time. It, as everything else actionable on is part, must be his decision to commit. The desires of a guest in his brainpan influenced him to question his feelings, not go with them. The quarter second it took to feel Kaylee's anger made him remember the last unbound spirit he housed, a particularly nasty man in life, he prompted Keystone to acts of aggression constantly. Much of his reserves of will came from this impromptu training - clawing his way back out of himself and asserting his own personality, dominating and walling off the angry bastard until the terms of his dismissal could be completed. 

The only rage he would succumb to willingly was his own. Possibly to Kaylee's benefit, Keystone had quite a bit of it for the undead Knight. 

He called upon his connection with Earth, silently allying his will with the stone around him. His request of Earth was the same as when he first met this Glith: Grip tightly upon the tip of the monster's blade, hold fast and deny him the nastiest portion of his arsenal. 

This other Glith, he rationalized, should not have his blade. Keystone himself sunk it into the stone wall outside of town. But then again, the undead creature shouldn't even be here. He severed Glith's connection with this world days ago. This thing in the dry fountain basin must be something else, or at least he thought he hoped so.  

The idea occurred to him that this could very well be a trap. It could also be too late to fully avoid, that being the case. Keystone stuck his hands into his deep coat pockets, feeling the cool Dwarven metal of his new helm-splitters, and spoke. 

"You ain't attacking. Either you can't, or you're waiting on something. Or I'm bloody foolish; wouldn't be the first of it." 

Keeping at least one eye on the thing-which-might-be-Glith, Keystone tried to glimpse the setting around him with his peripherals. He truly hoped this was foolishness on his part, or an abundance of caution. The last thing he wanted was an epic battle in a obviously ensorcelled town with someone he was charged to protect nearby.