As Zeraer entered the booth, he noticed the unusual smell of the close quarters.  Every corporeal being has a scent -- an identifiable smell that is familiar to those of its own kind.  One knows immediately when one is in the presence of a very foreign sort of creature by the smell.  One knows, if one is paying attention, when one stumbles into a wolves' den, or the cave of a bear.  In this small, corner booth with the curtain drawn, the scent of the unusual being was strong.  It was not unpleasant -- it was somehow an ancient smell, reptilian, but it reminded Zeraer of something... yes, that was it, it reminded him of the smell he always detected after he had cast an unusually powerful evocation.  Like a charge in the air -- acidic and cleansing.<br/><br/>At the man's gesture, he closed the curtain, then hesitated slightly before sitting down.  Here he would be essentially defenseless if he were really in danger.  His spells were already fairly powerful, but could do very little for him in close quarters and with nowhere to hide.  He muttered a minor incantation that prepared the best he could do -- a dazzling spectacle of light that would bewilder the unprepared or weak of mind.  He was fairly certain that this would have no effect on the being sitting here, but...  it was all he had.  He hoped he didn't need it.<br/><br/>He sat across from him, noting the man's scaly hands.  He could not really see his face, but he got the immediate impression that he was dealing with a very different sort of being than he had ever encountered in person.  Sidelong, Zeraer saw the man's weapon, and noted its magical, as well as it's organic, nature.  Looking up, Zeraer focused on the man who has summoned his presence, and quietly waited to see what he has to say.