Manohar steps out, a very serious older man steps in and very seriously inclines his head to Merrin in what looks like a gesture of respect.
He's wearing a gaudy doompunk outfit.
Not a particularly high-quality outfit either, it looks like a twelve-year-old put it together in an hour and didn't spend more than three unskilled-labor-hours on materials. Anybody used to 'rubies' being clear perfectly-faceted giant chunks of synthetic corundum is not going to have much luck identifying the tiny cloudy red smooth-polished stones as rubies.
In terms of instinctive reactions, Merrin's social instincts are going to tell her that this is somebody elite enough not to give a fuck what anybody thinks of what he's wearing.
Seventh-circle priest cleric employee of Asmodeus, Iker Egobar.