<div class="floatleft">(http://www.infinitelibraries.com/images/Elli/Eztli.jpg)</div>Eztli'eyal<br/>Location: Kirborg, Fields of .. mud.<br/>Date / Time: Mar. 16, early afternoon.<br/>Tagging: GM/NPCs, Mialla<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Eztli notices, tension rippling his frame for the few seconds it takes him to read the lack of concern in the rider, and the complete non-interest of the horse. He still keeps himself more or less between the rider and Mialla, although he doesn't appear to realise he's doing it; a habit he's picked up in the last decade or so. He doesn't pick up his pace, not that the ground is conducive to anything faster than a walk, nor make any particular effort to circumnavigate the living obstacle.<br/><br/>Eztli'eyal nods. "That's right." He doesn't look any sort of concerned, or sound it. He pushes his hood back far enough to let the Sheriff get a good look at him. "I'm called Eztli'eyal, last of Scarborough." Like nearly everyone else he's met, he looks Alwin over, taking in gear, state of care as far as he recognizes it.