<div class="floatleft">(http://www.infinitelibraries.com/images/Elli/Eztli.jpg)</div>Eztli'eyal<br/>Location: Kirborg, Blackthorn Inn<br/>Date / Time: Mar. 16, Late morning<br/>Tagging: GM/NPCs, Wren?<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Eztli'eyal wrung out his cloak as much as he was physically capable before coming in, but he still squelched enough to be something less than silent as he crossed the room. Once he has a place to prop his feet so they can dry, and has hung his cloak up to finish drying, he looks a little less rumpled and ... well, no. He's still pretty soggy. The stew-of-the-day suits him fine, as long as it's hot and he doesn't have to cook it - he even finds a smile for Merik and his staff, scraped, no doubt from some dark, dusty corner ... but it is a smile.<br/><br/>He looks, for a moment, like he might volunteer for the errand, one ear twitching - at least some curiosity talking there - but he stays silent. His rather rough grasp of etiquette isn't really up to it, and he knows it. Even if they<em>are </em>a little less formal out here. On the other hand.. "What kind of arrangements are we referring to here?" If we're going to stick our boots in, might as well at least find out what the job is before begging off.