Oh yes, he was oily and rusty at that same time, and that seems to make for some very insidious grime. It rubbed off on my shoulder, even, where I bumped against him; you can see the little black smears on that picture of me zoning out over the blackcurrant wine in the end, if you know it's there.

He smelled of oil and rust, too. And looked a bit hot. He'd run around in the arena being part of the bad guy's followers, and had had no chance to clean himself up yet, of course.