Steelclaw had arrived in Windshire early in the morning the day before; as he usually did when he was on no tight deadline he was aware of, he did not bother with any of the usual means to travel, but simply walked, one foot in front of the other, day and night. He paused at the war memorials, pretending to be a statue guardian for an hour or two as he passed them, out of respect for the fallen of the War, but those were the only interruptions he permitted himself.<br/><br/>Steelclaw still found the notion of free time unusual; having been dismissed from the keep and told to return tomorrow, he wandered the streets of Windshire for a few hours before finding a smith's shop in town and politely inquire if he could rent use of the facilities for a few hours. He might as well be at his best appearance for the meeting with the local count, and it had been a while since the last time he had the chance to scrape and re-oil his joints, clean his armor plating, make sure all the load-bearing parts of his body were still in good order. That done, he did the same for his armor and visible gear; the work kept him busy for a while, and gave him a sense of accomplishment that would allow him to meditate for the rest of the night.<br/><br/>Steelclaw was not interested in the festival; he was here on business. There would be time to celebrate later. His armor plated body gleamed in the morning sun as he made his way across town, careful not to step on any of the children but much more indifferent to whether he made any of the adults leap out of his way or not. Passing the streets and the city gates the moment he could, he trundled his way up towards Windshire Keep.