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The invaders raise their weapons menacingly as if to warn others away. Gentlemen generally take a step back, and ladies are apprehensively peeking from behind them.
Alejandro is standing strong. He is alone in the center of the room. He is currently silent. Clever - you'd expect no less.
He has recognized the same thing you have - these people aren't mere brigands or pirates. These men move with the coordination and discipline of well-drilled soldiers. That would mean they are here under orders. And that would mean that they are not the ones to talk to or reason with.
Not many people can be relied on to make such a chain of deductions in a stressful situation. In fact, Alejandro doesn't seem too perturbed. If anything, his face shows just a hint of indignity.
There is five or six soldiers in the room, forming a cordon around the door and, using their weapons, threating the gentlemen in the room. And that is when you hear a new sound, rhythmic, almost serene in its regularity, growing ever stronger, like a very slow clock approaching slowly from a distance. Clack. Clack. Clack.
The tip of a cane enters the room, emitting another *clack*. The cane is ivory, and though you can't make out the details, you see it is impossibly ornate. The top ends with an elaborate silver handle in the form of a snake, held by a shivering, shrivelled old hand.
