The door opens a crack and a lithe young man dances backwards through it on nimble feet, laughing and waving out into the square.
"Ha ha! To the public baths with you, Galwynn, though I doubt they'll let you in again! I'll have your problem with the new spells sorted out soon, Atomerasu! Hey, Wartytoad, watch out for sparks in that beard!"
Then he kicks the door closed and turns to face Joe and the tavern patrons. The predominant impression is of goldenness. His chainmail is golden, his cloak is golden, the marshal's badge affixed to it is golden. He even seems to glow a little. A rapier hangs on each hip.
"Yes, it is I," he says, "Keldarion, paragon among paladins, lately returned from," he inspects his nails modestly, "ridding the City of Falls from an infestation of devils. And how are you all?"