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“The vulgar crowd always is taken by appearances, and the world consists chiefly of the vulgar.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
It has been almost two whole months since you received the letter from the Lord Mayor. The letter itself, a gilded sheaf of paper more art than functional letter, was brought to you by a small retinue of knights bearing a standard emblazoned with Brevoy’s dual-headed crimson dragon emblem. The knights, while polite, said very little, insisting that the Lord Mayor made it clear that the details of the job were not something that he wanted divulged to anyone but those to whom it was offered.
Greetings and salutations to you, ! You are cordially invited to the manor of Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius to entertain a job offer over a night of fine dining and dancing. Enclosed in this letter is a writ of currency for 1,500 coins of Brevoy-minted gold for you to claim and spend at your leisure in the Free City of Restov, no strings attached. If this sum is appealing to you, the Lord Mayor wishes you to show up to his ball and entertain his offer. You will be hosted by the Succulent Boar tavern in the Free City, completely at your host’s expense, should you make the journey. One of the Lord Mayor’s servants will come fetch you on the night of the Grand Ball, Wealday, the 27th of Pharast. A safe journey to you, and best of wishes!
-Steward Elaine Varinov of Restov”
You have been in Restov for less than a week, spending your days lounging around awaiting the Grand Ball and spending your nights, fully paid for, at the Succulent Boar tavern, enjoying the finest food and drink. There have been several others who came bearing invitations, each of which seem capable in their own right.
Today, however, is the 27th of Pharast. The last light of the sun is shining through the tavern windows. The general spirits of the place is high, with several of the twenty or so hopefuls making merry. Some sit apart from the others, seemingly immune to the rampant exuberance. Regardless, it seems like there is some time left for fraternizing before the ball.
Seated near one of the walls in a semiprivate alcove, Aris observed the proceedings from above the cover of an illuminated copy of "Bizare Beastiaries of the River Kingdoms, Volume XII", complete with footprint charts. She'd arrived first, of course, and had been nursing what should have been a single glass of Sarian white, the ideal wine for nursing exceptionally slowly. Unfortunately, the impossibly-long ermine draped around her shoulders had already consumed two of the expensive drinks by itself, much to Aris's chagrin.
As she waited, occasionally flicking strands of gray-white hair away from her icy-blue eyes, her mind drifted back to the experiments she'd put on hold in order to be here. After a few moments of allowing her mind a long leash, she pulled the room back into focus, noticing for the first time a few others waiting as well. "Greetings. Are you, by chance, here to see a Lord about a letter? I received one a handful of months ago, and it was most intriguing." She pauses, then continues. "I am unsure about dancing, but anyone willing to throw such an outrageous sum at people simply to get them to attend a ball is either desperate for friends or scheming. I, for one, hope for the latter; a good scheme is so hard to come by these days. Oh. Arisl'Arial Tathmir. A librarian by employment."
A young half-elf, clad in ceremonial Desnan garb on loan from the local temple ambles awkwardly through the party, woefully unfamilliar with such an atmosphere.
Finally, he takes a seat alone at a deserted table, hoping for some time to collect himself before the ball begins.
Great Dreamer, it is with pride that I accept this path you have set me upon. I promise to guide my future companions to the best of my abilities. Please provide me with guidance, that our quest may come to fruition.
He is drawn out of prayer by the approach of another.
"Oh! Please forgive me, I hadn't noticed you." the half-elf apologises, gesturing a request to join Aris at her table.
"I-I have, indeed," he nods at her mention of the letter, though his answer is uncertain, as though he was still unsure the letter was actually addressed to him. "It's a strange story, actually. I'd only approached the mayor to give-" Castor interrupts himself, pausing for a moment.
"My apologies. I shouldn't bore you with such stories. I am Castor, of Clan Antares, devout of the Starsong." He introduces himself, holding his hand out for a respectful handshake.
"Greetings. Are you, by chance, here to see a Lord about a letter? I received one a handful of months ago, and it was most intriguing." She pauses, then continues. "I am unsure about dancing, but anyone willing to throw such an outrageous sum at people simply to get them to attend a ball is either desperate for friends or scheming. I, for one, hope for the latter; a good scheme is so hard to come by these days. Oh. Arisl'Arial Tathmir. A librarian by employment."
"I am Heyden Crowshen of the Scarlet Sentinels, a pleasure to meet you miss Tathmir." Heyden bows politely "I am a bodyguard by employ, though in truth I am here for matters of both business and pleasure. I suspect you and I have received similar letters. Perhaps we should discuss further. Over a dance, maybe?"
Unlike his soon-to-be fellows, Arawn is quite at home in the frantic atmosphere of the dance floor. He spins and glides across the floor, dancing with every fair maiden left adrift and unaccompanied that he alights upon. He leaves each one smiling wider than when she was when he appeared, and always makes a loop back around to rejoin one who seems to be drifting back to heartache. All the while, he samples the fine wines being offered by servers, memorizing the flavor as best he can in the whirlwind of earthly delights he soars upon.
Of course, in the days preceding, he had noticed the others who had been summoned to see the Lord Mayor. Particularly the young elven woman with the ermine and all the books. She seemed rather bookish and withdrawn, though, so he had not yet approached, for fear of scaring her off. Now, though, as two of the others were flocking to her side, it seemed a fine time to finally make his introductions.
And so Arawn gracefully flits through the dancers, helping two young maidens twirl into the arms of lonely gentlemen too afraid to make their own proposals as he goes. When finally he reaches the table, he makes a grandiose, sweeping gesture with his robes, and drops into a deep bow.
"Good evening, my friends. My name is Arawn Vasska. We are all here for the same reason, I expect. A certain letter from the Lord Mayor, hm? And what might you be called?" He reaches out a hand to shake Castor's and Heyden's, and takes the time to kneel and lay a kiss on the back of Aris', should she offer it.
The oddest looking creature most people have seen opens the door to the inn.
He'd been here for several weeks, but had been keeping out of sight by climbing in and out of his room's window, to avoid disturbing the inn keeper's clients (with the inn keeper's approval).
Unfortunately, the new serving wench hired by the inn keeper had not realized the window was intentionally left open, and had closed it when she tidied up his room earlier.
That left Shi the only option of entering through the front door. The bar goes silent as he enters, most people shocked, several reaching for weapons nervously. The sudden quiet leaves Arawn's voice abnormally loud and lets his sentence boom across the room.
The creature's ears twitch, and an impossibly blue tongue lols out the side of it's mouth in amusement. "Please pardon me, good folk. I am merely the result of over consumption of alcohol, I'll be gone when you sober up."
Several people can't help but laugh, and the tension begins to drain from the room as Shi closes the door behind him. The small taur creature moves over to stare at Arawn, Castor, Hayden, and Aris. It's head rotates and it's neck bends, until it's looking at them up-side down. Blue eyes blink, and then the head returns to it's normal positioning. "It appears that letters have been handed out willy nilly to any random being without forethought then... after all, some idiot gave me one, of all beings..." His tongue lols out the side again in amusement as he digs into his belt pouch for an odd looking white root, which he bites into with a crunch.
Castor is at a loss with this unusual new presence, and it is perhaps only the benediction of the stars's luck that keeps him from fumbling his elven wine to the floor.
"I was told that we would be a diverse lot indeed, but I must admit I am at a loss. To whom do we owe the honors?" Castor asks, barely managing to refrain from saying "what" instead of "whom".
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Shi'Vatha tilts it's head, and looks thoughtful as it crunches it's root again. After swallowing, it shrugs, which is a curious motion that involves two sets of shoulders and it's entire upper body going up and down. "That is a very complex question, depending on what you mean by 'whom do we owe the honors'. If you mean for our all having been selected to receive a letter, that would likely be a clan council from each of the major clans voting on who to send. If you mean, instead, four our meeting here at the inn, that would be whomever locked my window, as I've been using it instead of the front door so as not to startle the locals. If you mean, instead, who is responsible for my presence, in a more general sense, rather than the specific sense of my having a letter, well, that is also complex. It is either a lowlife paladin, may she be forever damned, or, in the alternative, you could thank or blame Iomadae for asking me to agree to be summoned. If, instead, you mean, what did you do to deserve this horrible fate, well, that would be between you and whatever god you currently worship to determine what horrible crime you committed in either this or a previous life."
The creature then gives a lopsided feline grin and crunches the root again.
Castor blinks a few times, left in the dust by Shi'Vatha's answer.
"My apologies for being ambiguous. I was simply asking for your name."
Aris sees Arawn offer both Castor and Heyden handshakes and offers her own as well. As he kneels down to kiss her hand, she looks on in horror, unable to snatch her hand away until the deed is done. Talvien looks on drunkenly as she finally pulls her hand back and fixes a cool stare of Arawn. "Just Miss Tathmir will do for now, youngling. I have no reason to believe our relationship will be anything more than professional as of now, and no expectation that it should be anything less." As she finishes dealing with him, she breathes a sigh of relief and looks away. That always worked on the Ustalav boys I tutored. Maybe it'll work on this one.
"As for you, I'll decline the dancing but accept the discussion, provided you pull up a seat here." She gestures for both Castor and Heyden to have a seat, and after some thought waves Arawn to another. "I can only imagine I was recommended by...recommended by..." She trails off, distracted by Shi'Vatha's appearance for a moment or two. When Shi's done talking, she tries to pick up the thread of her conversation where she left off. "I can only imagine I was recommended by Swordlord Koenig; I work in his archives as a librarian. He's got quite a collection of books on the River Kingdoms, its otherworldly inhabitants, and all matter of strange historical theories about the region. It's all quite fascinating." She looks around, hoping someone else finds it as fascinating as she so clearly does, before deciding to change the subject. "What was that you were saying about approaching the Lord-Mayor, Castor?"
"Oh!" Castor gasps, somewhat surprised that his tale is of any interest.
"I'd actually only requested to meet the Lord-Mayor on behalf of my faith, to give the Starsong's blessings of luck upon the mission. I was rather shocked when he asked me to take part. It is still a little hard for me to believe that a task like this has been placed in my hands."
"I'll do my best to help see this expedition through, though."
I just wish I knew whether or not this was truly my path to take. Shouldn't someone more qualified be in this seat talking to these people?
"Oh, well, that was rather convoluted then. I am called Shi'Vatha. Unless you speak celestial, I'm afraid it's quite a mouthful of meaningless noise." His voice sounds amused.
"Seeker of Evil, is it? A noble name indeed." Castor replies, in hesitant Celestial. "Are you connected to a faith, then? I do not recall a Seeker of Evil in Desnan faith... Cailean, perhaps?" Castor asks, hazarding a guess on the other faith he is passingly familliar with.
Shi's ears go back against his skull. Then they flick forward. "אני לא מיושר עם כל דת ספציפית , אני היהצופה . אבל צופים היה משעמם , אני מעדיף לעשות."
"I was not aligned with any specific religion, I was a Watcher. But watching was boring, I prefer to be doing."
"All this speaking in tongues...wouldn't it be polite to at least wait for the Lord-Mayor before discussing matters of business? We're at a party. Let's have fun!"
Arawn gives a charming smirk to Aris' reaction to his gesture. Feeling justified in his initial assessment of her, he knows better than to push the envelope, just yet. Instead, he simply inclines his head to her as he stands, "Bien sûr, Mlle Tathmir. S'il vous plaît sentir libre de faire appel à moi à tout moment, pour notre entreprise. Je suis à votre service."
He does feel a bit snubbed as Castor and Heyden avoid giving out their own names, though the appearance of the strange divine creature assuages the slight. He smiles and gives a bow to the divine being as it finally introduces itself, and extends a hand to it, as well, "Shi'vatha, Arawn Vasska. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I wondered about the sightings that have been whispered about."
Finally turning to Heyden, he nods and grins, "Speaking to new friends in their primary tongue is a show of respect, though of course those omitted from the conversation may feel abandoned. Either way, it seems that Shi'vatha and...Castor, was it?...already have a bond that can be expanded upon in our coming venture. That said, the festivities are exquisite, as are the refreshments, and the dancing partners. We should enjoy them while we can! Before we do, though, I still have not learned your name..."
Aris follows the Celestial banter, mentally preparing a list of questions for the strange being to answer later. She's convinced that they'll have plenty of time to chat. She does, however, look down her nose at Heyden as she puts her book aside. "I was having fun. Not all fun has to include carousing around; some of it involves reading and learning new things. I was trying to memorize the footfall pattern of worgs and how it's different from wolves (which I'll admit would be easier if I'd ever seen either outside illustrations), and that kind of challenge is its own kind of fun." She sighs, sets the book aside, and pulls her familiar from her hood, setting him on top of it. "You be good while I'm gone, Talvien. Mister Crowshen, I believe I have time for a single dance, or perhaps two if either Arawn or Castor agree to my terms..." She mods at Arawn and Castor. "But I am also quite curious about the purpose of this ball, and I do enjoy educated speculation. If you will mix business and pleasure, I will do the same. Agreed?"
She gives a quick grin at Arawn's Elvish, responding much less fluently, but with a bit of half-concealed joy. "Je suis désolé , mon elfique est pauvre . Je suis une fille pour la dernière fois qu'on m'a appris à l'extérieur de livres . Le , um , la lune brille sur notre réunion . Je pense que ce ce que maman m'a dit de dire ..." She smiles again, trying not to show how much she enjoyed hearing her tongue spoken so eloquently.
Once on the dance floor, Aris moves with a degree of grace but no real passion for dance. Instead, she attempts to carry on a conversation with the big man. "Why don't you tell me about yourself. A bodyguard with the, who? Scarlet Sentinels? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with them."
Shi'Vatha takes the proffered hand. It's own hand is much smaller than a humans, more like a human child's. Although the sharp claws on the fingers don't press in or break the skin, their presence is easily felt. "Yes, I do tend to cause rumors. Not so much at home, they're use to me, but here they are not. Fortunately I'm quick and experienced at not being seen, so I usually don't scare too many people."
When Aris leaves her ermine on the table, Shi holds out his white root to it. "Bite?" He also holds up the root to the others. "Bite?"
"Sirs Vasska and Crowshen," Castor salutes the two men in turn, realizing his earlier omission. "Please forgive my rudeness, I was surprised by our celestial friend's entrance."
"I know little of dancing, Miss Tathmir," Castor replies with a smile when Aris raises the possibility, "But I will take my chances if so is your request."
Intrigued by Aris speaking poor elven despite her being, as far as he can tell, full-blooded, he makes a mental note to offer to help her strenghten her grasp of the language.
"Sir Vasska, if I may ask," Castor turns to Arawn, "You seem quite at home in these high societies, and it intrigues me to see a man such as you preparing to go into the wilderness... Not that I don't believe you must be as capable as any other, of course." Castor backpedals for a moment, afraid to offend. "Has some particular circumstance led you into this charter?"
Finally, Castor eyes the offerred root with curiosity, perhaps looking to recognize it.
Arawn gives Aris a brief nod of acceptance as she goes to dance with Heyden. He raises a hand to politely decline the root vegetable, and smiles wistfully at Castor's question, "I was born to this lifestyle, yes. And it is where I am most comfortable. Admittedly, I know little of getting along in the wilds. The offer was extended to me, presumably, because the Lord Mayor believes the group will need a skilled negotiator and diplomat. As for why I accepted...." His face grows dark for a brief moment, and his eyes flash with...wait...did they actually just flash? Or was that green light a reflection off of something?
He turns to give Castor a strained smile, "I like to stay informed, Master Castor. I listen to the chatter. If what I hear is correct, the opportunity afforded to us will aid me in recovering something important that was taken from me."
Immediately, his face brightens once more, and his jovial grin returns, "Worry not about my efficacy in the face of danger, though. One of the benefits of a noble birth is a higher education, including the use of a blade. I can handle myself."
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A glimmer of light answers the flash.
Despite his hesitant, farm-laddish countenance, Castor's gaze towards his interlocutor never falters, in spite of Arawn's intense look. A noble-born lad with some vested interest, perhaps? Hopefully not just a power-thirsty brat.
"I see," Castor nods with a knowing smile. "Then I hope you will find the road to your liking, and that you will find what you are missing."
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Finally turning to Heyden, he nods and grins, "Speaking to new friends in their primary tongue is a show of respect, though of course those omitted from the conversation may feel abandoned. Either way, it seems that Shi'vatha and...Castor, was it?...already have a bond that can be expanded upon in our coming venture. That said, the festivities are exquisite, as are the refreshments, and the dancing partners. We should enjoy them while we can! Before we do, though, I still have not learned your name..."
"Haha! I understood that parties such as this were thrown for matters of intrigue. Surely it is not in spirit to converse in esoteric speak; no one would be able to eavesdrop properly!"
"It is a delight, Master Arawn. I am Heyden Crowshen of the Scarlet Sentinels."
While waiting for Heyden to join her on the dance floor, Aris gives an appraising look at Arawn, mentally recategorizing him as just a bit less of a noble wastrel and just a bit more of someone knowing what he's about. "You do speak like Swordlord Koenig. Without the quick lecturing pace of academia, but with the same cocksure confidence. Not that that's a bad thing, so long as you don't misplace it. Has anyone else been studying up on this...whatever it is we're doing? I've lived in a library for the last decade, but when I got my message, I found every book I could. I've barely rested, really." She pauses for a moment, looking at the door while scratching her right shoulder through her jacket. "I do wonder when our host is going to arrive."
Meanwhile, Talvien reaches his impossibly-long neck forward, quickly taking an oversized bite of the whatever-it-is offered to him.
Heyden excuses himself from the table. "I've kept a wonderful lady waiting too long I'm afraid."
Once he gets over to Arisl'arial he'll offer to take the lead.
Aris accepts Heyden's offer, keeping him at arms' distance while trying to keep up with his pace. As they dance, she looks at him curiously. "I was born in Port Ice, but I haven't been back in...a long time. Tell me, who are the Scarlet Sentinels? You worked with them, you said, and if we're to be working together, I would like to know a bit about my colleagues."
Horseradish... a particularly strong variety of it.
Aris accepts Heyden's offer, keeping him at arms' distance while trying to keep up with his pace. As they dance, she looks at him curiously. "I was born in Port Ice, but I haven't been back in...a long time. Tell me, who are the Scarlet Sentinels? You worked with them, you said, and if we're to be working together, I would like to know a bit about my colleagues."
"Ohhh, were to start..."
"Simply put: we are bodyguards; typically to bluebloods - royalty and merchants, those sort of folk. But that's more of an after thought. Sentinels are dedicated to concepts of loyalty and honor. We are like a family; we are a family. It just so happens that those sort of values are considered ideal when looking for a retainer."
Tristan keeps to himself the week in Restov. He is polite and greets and introduces himself to any that approach or speak to him, but he mostly seems to sit and have a few drinks while watching the others.
The door of the tavern opens and a strange man walks though the door. Dressed in a suit of black lamellar armor and wearing two of Tian Xia's curved katanas strapped to his waist. A horned, demonic helmet adorns his head, obscuring his features. He looks around the tavern for a moment before focusing in on a group .
He points at the group and speaks in a commanding, albeit heavily accented, tone, his voice clear above the din of the tavern, "You there... is this the tea house known as The Succulent Boar? My understanding of Taldan script is... limited."
Tristan looks up as the man enter. After being addressed he kicks out a chair and motions for the guy to sit.
"It is. You looking for someone?"
Castor looks to the newcomer, somewhat unsettled by the helmet's fiendish display.
"This is the Succulent Boar, yes. What brings you here, traveler?" he asks politely.
Arawn instinctively fixes the newcomer with a warm and welcoming smile, though his left hand falls to rest casually on the hilt of his rapier. He turns slightly to his new compatriots, though he doesn't take his eyes off the armored man, "Does anyone speak Tian? No. OK then."
While the others make their answers, Arawn gives a short bow, "Yes, my good sir. This IS the Succulent Boar. You are correct. As you can see, you have arrived in the midst of a celebration. Would you be here to join the festivities? If so, you would seem to be slightly underdressed. Might I implore you to remove your helmet? Allow us to see to whom we speak?"
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Shi tilts his head, looking at the elaborate demonic armor, and crunches on a root, not responding.
Aris smiles at Heyden. "So, we're both servants, you and I? There is nothing wrong with that. Neither of us sound like house-servants or maids. I was one of Swordlord Koenig's closest-"
She means to go on, but is interrupted by the newcomer. "Yes, it is. Were you expecting something different? This is certainly not a place to drink tea."
Aris smiles at Heyden. "So, we're both servants, you and I? There is nothing wrong with that. Neither of us sound like house-servants or maids. I was one of Swordlord Koenig's closest-"
Heyden ignores the newcomer and opts to continue his dancing. After all, the majority of the tavern already seems to have taken interest in helping the foreigner.
"Technically I'm more in the way of freelance at the moment, but that's neither here nor there. The Swordlords are similar to the Sentinels, though we are less a governing body as it were. Curious, though, if you would count yourself among their ranks." he stops to sniff the air around the woman for a moment "You smell more of sulfur than iron. Not a duelist, I take?"
The man answers Arawn and Castor, "Excellent. Ah, but it seems that I have been away from Minkai for far too long. Where are my manners?"
The man removes his helmet, causing a man of silky black hair to spill from it and revealing the face of a young Tian man with a calm, composed look. The left side of his face appears marred by horrific burns and the ye on that side of his face is cloudy, as if damaged by whatever cause his scarring.
"My name is Minao Hakashi, former samurai of the true emperor of Tian Xia, made ronin after I refused to bend the knee to the Jade Regent. As I am a warrior of honor, I could not strike down the emperor, no matter how foul and distasteful a man as he may be, so I chose to wander Golarion and hone my skills in battle. I have come to hear out the request of the one known as the Lord Mayor. If the work is honorable and the foes plenty, I may well accept his offer."
Hakashi replies to Tristan, "Looking for the other said to be invited to this dinner. I would know the people that I may be fighting beside, after all."
He then turns to Arisl'arial, "Everything is strange outside of Tian Xia, this... tavern is no different. When people wish to meet in my homeland, they meet in tea houses. My apologies if my ignorance of Avistan customs is lacking. I have only been outside of my homeland for a few years and most of that time was spent campaigning with a mercenary group. Those men, brave as they are, were not exactly the type one takes in culture and customs from."
Just now noticing the strange little Shi'Vatha, Hakashi does a deep bow, "I am honored in your presence, Kami."
"Take a seat then Minao. I am Tristan. Scout and guide to the surrounding lands. The foes are plenty. The lands are full of dishonorable bandits. Another sword will be welcome. I don't know if they have tea here, but you want to embrace this culture you will have an ale."
Tristan motions to the barmaid.
"Bring another for me and one for our new friend here."
Shi'Vatha bows as well, an elaborate movement involving it's forward legs bending down until the chest is nearly touching the floor, and then the upper torso bending forward, until it's mane touches the floor. "Ah, you're from that country with all the bamboo! That explains the armor, I thought you were Chelexian for a moment. Apologies for the suspicion earlier. I'm afraid I am not as familiar with your home land as I am with this area, I never worked very closely with your pantheon. I realize Iomedae is also part of that pantheon, but he keeps the two churches somewhat compartmentalized, and I was never assigned to the one in your homeland." Shi straightens, and motions around. "I am also honored to work with all of you. My friends asked me to help this endeavor, partly I suspect to get me out of the castle, so I would stop sneaking pastries to the children." He grins wickedly and takes a bite of root.
Aris stays quiet, pulling into her mind to bring up general knowledge of Tian Xia from her schooldays thirty or more years ago. As she does, she quietly disengages from her dance with Heyden, returning to her table to pet Talvien, who seems to have eaten something that's making him uncomfortable.
"It is an honor to meet you, Sir Hakashi. A warrior such as you is more than welcome amongst this expedition, I am certain. I hope you will find it to your liking." Castor smiles.
"Ah, but again, I forget my manners. I am Castor Antares, devout of the Starsong. I too, have been wandering this regions, though my roots stem from much closer."
Heyden stands awkwardly at his sudden rejection.
"What, was it something I said?" he mutters.
"Well, whatever. The grand ball will start soon enough and hopefully thinks will pick up there."
Hakashi opens his mouth to speak, but is swiftly interrupted by the bartender yelling, "Ah, Miss Elaine! Nice of ya to stop by today! Will it be the usual?"
A soft female voice answers back, barely able to be heard over the antics at the tavern, "No, not today. I'm here on the Lord Mayor's business. I've come to retrieve the guests of the fete tonight. Might you point them out to me?"
Hakashi smiles faintly and gathers up his helmet, "Shall we go introduce ourselves?"
Shi looks up as the woman enters, puts two and two together, the math obvious as it's ear's flicker, and then does the complicated two part bow. "I believe that would be this table, ma'am." It touches it's breast. "I am Shi'Vatha. This is Heyden Crowshen, Sir Minao Hakashi, Castor Antares, Arisl'arial Tathmi, Tristan D'Arden and Arawn Vasska..." The outsider looks around to make sure it didn't miss anyone.
Heyden nods politely as he is introduced but otherwise follows their new attendee promptly.
"And who might you be, madame, to take us to the Lord's Manor?" he asks with a sly smile.