A young woman, dressed in a dirtied silk tunic of foreign cut and colors, sat outside on the gate's doorstep... awaiting a mage or someone to hear her plea or allow her inside. She was covered in frost from the cold winds and snow that howled across the mountains the Keep saddled between. She rocked there from the chill of her indignant encampment of the Guild's gates. A tiny flame flickers in her hand, and small book pouch rests against the bars of the gate, overflowing with leather-bound bibles, ink vials and quills. She's pale from sickness or nature.
The Goblins tease her from the gate, though they are in arms reach she never reaches to inflict her frustrations or angers upon them, she simply sits, waiting to be heard...
As the sunsets on her second day in front of the castle, she departs, still rather consumed with her pension to enter from the tension that was in her shoulders. Night passes uneventfully, however as daybreaks, any who walks the castle discover fresh footprints leading in from the balcony that connects the Novitate, leading into the Atrium, where she is discovered once more, unconscious curled into the corner around a dirty mug from the bar. Her determination is amendable, but is her trespass too great?
(( And yes I was able to climb into the castle. ))