The throng of men over near the manor moved towards the group, Ghost prepared to intercept them diplomatically, while Ba'aktar prepared a less-than warm welcome. There was eight of them that strode forward, though none of them wore armour nor bore any apparent arms, looking hardly like guards and more like party goers.
From the group a larger robust man dressed in garb that could pay for a family's meals for a decade, stepped forward. He was balding, unattractive, but gave a smile that the foolish would take for friendship and the wary would see as a sales pitch.
"Ghost! My friend!" Zimmerman stepped forward to shake the albino's hand, "I knew you'd come through, after all there can't be a party without the lady of honour!"
Taran:
[sblock]There is a slight tugging on Taran's leg as Zimmerman approaches, Stephanie looks up at the halfling and whispers, "Dat's him."[/sblock]