Location: Kirborg, The Keep<br/>Date / Time: March 16, early afternoon<br/>Tagging: Eztli<br/><hr/>Finding his way out of the village was no problem for Eztli'eyal. Just around the corner of the chapel of Pelor, past the carpenter's workshop and the blacksmith, leaving the village at the northern gate. The few people he encountered in the village didn't hide their curiosity about the stranger, but were polite enough to offer a "good day" or "greetings, sir", while the guard at the gate also gave him the time of day and a polite nod. People seemed interested in the newcomer, but not taken by surprise at his appearance.<br/><br/>It was very much the same outside the village, whenever the elf passed a farm and the people going about their work their. The season was still too rainy to do any serious plowing, but people were certainly busy tending to smaller plots of land, gardens along the village wall and around the scattered farmhouses north of the village. There was weeding to be done, digging over beds for herbs and vegetables, and the dry day had brought out many of the locals to see to those tasks while they could.<br/><br/>While the air was still cool and the sky overcast, the first signs of spring were showing in the hedges and trees that dotted the countryside, white blossoms for the most part, but also the yellowish green of catkins, and small grape hyacinths were showing here and there.<br/><br/>Turning westward at the crossroads he had been told about, Eztli had another mile to walk towards the keep, its walls and outer buildings now easily spotted on the flat top of a hill. As he walked along empty fields and cows and sheep grazing on a pasture at the base of the hills, Eztli had time enough to wonder how tall those outer buildings behind the palisade really were, and time enough to figure out that the palisade wasn't a freestanding wall, but anchored the vertical drop in a terraced hillside.<br/><br/>The path wound up to a gate in the palisade and a ramp behind. It was there that Eztli was met by a dwarf who had obviously been expecting him. "Greetings," he boomed in a voice loud and deep even for a dwarf. Armored in a breastplate and armed with a dwarven waraxe he certainly looked like a typical dwarven warrior, but his black beard was cut fairly short for a dwarf, as was his hair. "What brings you to this humble neck of the woods, master elf?"