"Wait! How do I..." He yelled, before his eyes going wide, realizing he was still in someone else house, expansive though it was. His next words were quieter but no less incredulous. "...pick a place...without you...around to be told..." 

Does that mean she was watching him twenty four, seven? Would she see when he changed himself? What if he was cold? No, she probably just divined where he was at a certain time and found him, so she would probably do the same later. Though they hadn't set a time, either. Obviously it would be tomorrow night, but she didn't seem like the kind of woman to be kept waiting, so he should probably make it an early dinner. Well, if he was going to convince her to not kill him (and maybe get lucky) he was going to need to look really good. But where was he going to get a suit? 

Neil turned his head slowly to the closet, recalling he was in an extravagant manor likely with at least a dozen closets full of brilliantly tailored suits to wear for just such an occasion. "Oh yeah, that works out." He said to himself, moving over to open it up. He yawned, realizing just how tired he still was. [i]Well, she did just rip you out of bed in the middle of the night[/i] he thought. Neil decided to head back to sleep and get to things first thing in the morning. 

[hr]

[i]18 hours later...[/i] 

Kalx'molaris was a large city, with stone walls surrounding every corner except the river docks and walls of the Moribund Mountains. The city was a marvel of masonry. Every stone was tiled or set purposefully, every work of art a true work of art, and some of the greatest alchemical and mechanical guilds were located in the vast bosom of the city. The nobles were some of the richest people in the land, which helped them fund their vendettas and syndicates. Such expensive building programs and expansive structures made it hard to find something that would stand out or impress, so Neil chose a nice bistro he had found last winter; a great quality establishment with a penchant for appetizers, blood pudding, venison, and steak, and their cocktails were very good. Though Neil enjoyed the plain Dwarven rum unless he was feeling festive. 

The sun hadn't fully lowered, but he stood in the shadow of one of the Cathedrals, just a few meters away from the Grim & Gallant, a warm, open door restaurant, with patio seating he thought she might enjoy as it overlooked the river. G&G wasn't very well known by the city's elite, but it was a favorite for well-to-do tourists and middle class merchants wanting to splurge their successful transactions with a stylish dinner. 

Neil, surprisingly, had only taken a few items from the manor's closet. The polished shoes, the leather belt, and the trousers. He had paid for the short sleeved jerkin, and he had stolen the frock he wore over it. He called it 'fancy casual.' Just extravagant enough to accentuate his manliness, yet casual enough to highlight his devil-may-care charm. At least, he [i]hoped[/i] that was the reaction. Either way, she was going to get a paid meal from the continent's most eligible bachelor, and after (or before) she was going to kill him. Least he could do was make her regret it, if she carried it out.