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"Yes, it seems these folk are more hospitable than we first gave them credit for," said Secru to Leo, calmly seating himself at the table in the center of the room. "If one disregards the odd lightning-bolt, of course." He looked at the Elven woman. "And the fact that this lady doesn't trust us enough to put her weapons down." He spread his hands. "Secru Suamo, known for some unfathomable reason as 'The Ghost.' Traveling troubadour, wit, and occasional warrior. At your service. Have harp, will travel." He regarded her, wondering if and when that reserve of hers would ever crack. It didn't look likely. He'd had enough of women who hated him on sight, today. He still had no idea if the stalker had entered the hut, if so he couldn't see her. He looked across at Leo, appraisingly. He was impressed by the other warrior's appearance - and he was a Kallinian, who didn't impress easy. "Do I take it, Sir, that you're going to stay lurking in that corner, or has the idea of coming out and introducing yourself occurred to you?"