The master smith smiles at the muttered comment. "I believe we may come to an accord," he replies with a nod. "But you have had a long journey and done battle besides, I would be a poor host indeed were I to neglect the duties of hospitality."

"Please, come rest at my table and break bread with me." Kreyu relaxes at that, put more at ease. There are RULES about hospitality among supernatural beings. Anything trying to attack them now would bring the wrath of ALL of Faerie on their heads.

It's more than bread, as it happens. Venison stew, salt, and mead accompany the fresh bread. The dog that opened the door earlier looks up from his place near the hearth with the hopeful expression of dogs everywhere when there may be FOOD.