hazlogs: Glass Walker Glyph (Glass Walker)
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7/14/2002

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (29% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 54
degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the south at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.03 and
rising, and the relative humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 50 degrees
Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius.)

Location: Jarred's Loft

Salem knocks -- two brief, polite raps on the Shadow Lord's door.

Jarred glances up from his journal, then over to the stainless steel clock
atop the mantle. He rises, moving to the door and opening it. "Salem." He
seems not terribly surprised to see you, actually. "Welcome. Won't you come
in?"

Salem inclines his head. "Jarred." The Glass Walker removes his hat as he
enters the loft; his eyes are hidden behind dark glasses. "I'm here to pick
up Adrian's project." There's nothing but courtesy in the half-moon's voice.

Jarred's mouth quirks in a slight grin. He says nothing, but gestures toward
the table next to his reading chair where the container now sits. An empty
can of sheba cat food and a fork sit nearby. "Unfortunately, Adrian has be
stuck at the caern with his elders, and it looked hungry. I fed it this
morning, but I must say. Intentionally feeding a cockroach definitely goes
against the grain..." He seems amused and repulsed at the same time as he
watches the insect wander the confines of its box.

Salem smiles a thin, polite smile. "I appreciate your consideration. As, I'm
sure, Adrian will." He steps over toward the table where Leslie's container
rests. The Walker, unsurprisingly, shows no disgust at all at sight of the
antennae-waving insect.

The Shadow Lord shrugs. "It was no trouble. I presume you now consider
Adrian's debt repaid?"

Salem considers this a moment as he lifts the box. Then he nods. "I believe
so. The 'debt', if you wish to call it that, was minor enough." Tucking the
box under his arm, he turns back toward the Shadow Lord and adds, dryly,
"I'm sure that Leslie will be quite glad to return home to his fellows."

Jarred agrees. "No doubt."

Salem takes a step toward the door. "Will there be anything else?"

Jarred considers. "Not at this point... Are you aware of any news that might
need passed along from your group? I'd be happy to run it around."

Salem thinks on that for a moment, then shakes his head. "Nothing currently.
We're organizing a place whereby the Sept can dispose of the filth that the
Dancers left, but nothing is finalized. Yet."

Jarred nods. "Very good, then. Please contact me if anything changes." He
hands the Glasswalker a card. You can reach me at these numbers. I may be
spending some times on the bawn, or the surrounding woods."

Salem accepts it, glancing briefly at its contents before tucking it away
inside his coat. "Excellent." He dips his head again, and starts for the
door. "I'll let you get back to your work, then."

Jarred smiles politely, escorting the other to the door. "Give my regards to
Synthesis, Salem. And good hunting."

"Be seeing you," returns the Glass Walker. And then he departs, leaving the
Lord's flat cockroach-less.

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