<div class="floatleft">(https://38.media.tumblr.com/88a931e54e67834d0843c37ee864fa19/tumblr_nbcu4gQRwO1sq1xo4o1_500.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Maelys Thackeray</span> (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=1006996)</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>HP</strong> 6/6   <strong>Init</strong> 0<br/><strong>AC</strong> 11 - <strong>Touch</strong> 10 - <strong>FF</strong> 11 - <strong>CMD</strong> 9<br/><strong>Fort</strong> +1 <strong>Ref</strong> +0 <strong> Will</strong> +4<br/><strong>Perception</strong> +3</div></div><br/><hr/><br/>Upon meeting the others with whom she would be traveling, and fighting, Maelys had begun to watch them thoughtfully.  She recognized two of them, though she could not say she remembered them well, only knew that she had seen them ocassionally before the fall of Cyre, and perhaps after.  The construct left her curious, but somewhat wary, as it presented quite a fearsome visage and she was unsure that she could suss the motivations of a mechanical mind.  As they traveled, she continued to watch them, learning what she could about them through observation, though she knew that she would have to speak with them eventually.  Still, she wanted to wait to see how they comported themselves in the trading post first, the better to judge their personalities and methods.<br/><br/>During the trip, she wore her common garb, the long tan skirt over leather breeches and high boots, and blouse of light fabric with many pockets.  Around her waist was belted a large sack, which held most of her provisions, a smaller pouch of many compartments that she added to ocassionally as they traveled, and a pair of scroll cases.  Her crossbow was slung across her back, though one got the sense that the weapon held little interest for her.  Her weapon is magic, of course.  And, to that end, she was accompanied by a coal-black viper with baleful ruby eyes and a lethargic nature.  It spent most of its time coiled around its mistress' slender neck, or hidden within her blouse, nestled up to the warmth of her skin.<br/><br/>There it resided when, finally, they came upon the fort and she murmured to it softly, bidding it remain in case it should cause alarm with those within.  She allowed her gaze to wander around the trading post, studying the battlements curiously and noting, with some relief, the unused catapults.  The sudden cry from Agira plucked at the strings of her spine and tensed her greatly, adrenaline coursing through her veins from the unexpected yell.  She drew a deep breath to calm her nerves, casting an annoyed glance in the warrior's direction.  "We could have simply knocked."  Her voice was a low-pitched, husky murmur with the impeccable accent of Cyrian nobility, her diction flawless and telling of a good education.<br/>