Maia furrowed her brow when the guard complained that she might be a 'Chelaxian'. That was the second time she'd heard that from these men and even the hairpin she was using to communicate with them couldn't really tell her about that. It was a good thing that Celeste was willing to explain. Still, she wasn't about to be foolish enough to dare trust any of these people. The guards clearly rushed to the conclusion that she was one of these so-called Cheliaxians. She got the feeling she'd get blades drawn on her all over again if she walked into their outpost.<br/><br/>Since they already earned her distrust, she got the feeling that the dreaded Chelaxians likely weren't devil-worshippers at all. That sounded more like rumormongering to disparage a disliked people. Perhaps the Chelaxians should have been the one she approached first. She was filled with a measure of regret at not having searched around long enough to find them instead.<br/><br/>In answer to the first question, she answered, "A light bit of magic woven over something small. Given how quick your men were to draw steel, I can't imagine what would have happened had I approached without something to help me speak your tongue. I doubt you would have listened to a foreign language and pantomiming over this." She quirked her brow and gave them a look of sass before she added in the language of her own, "<em>Or would you?</em>"<br/><br/>A cold smirk touched her lips. "I'd rather not have to deal with impulsive swordsmen a second time in one day. Your camp might be safe for 'you', but I don't trust any of you enough to walk right into your little setup. We will either walk and talk with your men marching in front of us or with them fargone." She frowned and shook her head. "I'm not even sure I should be giving that much."