There's a place by the lake. You'll notice the creature left a trail of broken forest leading away from it--I'm afraid I won't be relying entirely on your tracking skills.
[And true to his word, Myrnin shows up at dark. He's dressed a bit oddly in a pair of jeans, a tee shirt with a smiley face with vampire fangs and a bottle green velvet jacket. He's wearing slippers on his feet]
[November--all right, the man who introduced himself to Myrnin as Jack Simon--is dressed much more conservatively in a suit and apparently unfazed by the heat. He doesn't comment on Myrnin's odder apparel, though.
He can't really talk, when he's got a giant half-thawed spider leg slung over one shoulder.]
You assume correctly. Good evening, Myrnin.
[He holds out the leg, also unfazed by how gross it is. Or the turpentine reek coming off it.]
[Myrnin takes the leg from Jack, examining it. He doesn't need to sniff it more closely. The reek coming off of it is strong enough that getting the scent isn't difficult. He nods and hands it back over.]
Where we start is clear. Once inside I believe I'll be able to pick up the scent.
I'd like to not get any farther inside than we have to. I'm not fighting it tonight.
[He takes the leg back and tosses it against a tree, looking well pleased to be done with it. He may not have the same sense of revulsion as a normal human being, but eventually that smell gets to him, too.]
And to answer your question, not particularly.
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...Pity. I'm used to it.
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Hiding the fact you can defend yourself?
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My world is a secretive one, it seems.
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...my name is Jack Simon, by the way.
[So much for not needing lies in the City.]
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Where would you like to meet after dark?
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[And true to his word, Myrnin shows up at dark. He's dressed a bit oddly in a pair of jeans, a tee shirt with a smiley face with vampire fangs and a bottle green velvet jacket. He's wearing slippers on his feet]
Jack I assume?
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He can't really talk, when he's got a giant half-thawed spider leg slung over one shoulder.]
You assume correctly. Good evening, Myrnin.
[He holds out the leg, also unfazed by how gross it is. Or the turpentine reek coming off it.]
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Where we start is clear. Once inside I believe I'll be able to pick up the scent.
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[He takes the leg back and tosses it against a tree, looking well pleased to be done with it. He may not have the same sense of revulsion as a normal human being, but eventually that smell gets to him, too.]
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