The young priest soon found his way into the dining hall, looking a bit frazzled by his lone journey through the manor unattended, but no worse for wear. Father Marco entered to the sound of light conversation and the clinking of porcelain. 

Murmuring a quiet pardon, he took a seat between the rather homely looking man and the young woman-crisp and pressed with an official look to her. Looking about at his fellow comrades in breakfast, he smiled lightly as he considered the odd motley of individuals that had been brought together in this strange place.

"Good morn. I do hope you all found your way here far kinder than mine," He said in response to the man's question as he poured himself a glass of juice, "I was lucky, I was on my way to Kimblewick. On foot. The storm nearly swept me off my feet and not just the path from underneath me. I could have still been wandering about the wood had I not found my way here."

"Do give our lady hostess my thanks for her hospitality," He then said to the head butler after he'd finished speaking to the crisp young woman, "Not many would be so kind as to open their home to lost strangers in the night."