The man that steps forward seems to be fond of wearing darker things. Dark leathers, dark gloves that cover his hands - even the brown hair that's been pulled back is being held in place with a dark strip of cloth. But for the moment, there's a flicker of something lighter to be seen in all that darkness, although it's coming from a face that's no-longer clean shaven, the beard hiding some scars that weren't there a few years ago. It's a crooked smile, slightly lopsided just like it always used to be back before things went bad...and maybe the warmth that's in the perhaps-familiar brogue is the same as it used to be, as well.

"Depends on how you feel about having those efforts undertaken by an old friend."