<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/>While the others spoke, Mae studied the fort thoughtfully, in particular gazing up at the catapults, then finally she turned to Oleg and Svetlana, offering them a gentle smile.  "I am certain that however many of these ruffians show up, we are capable of dealing with them handily.  Perhaps you could show us around the trading post, including any battlements that might prove handy in a fight.  Like the catapults.  Are they still in working order?"  She motioned up toward the devices, then looked back at the pair, her strange eyes reflecting a certain tenderness for their plight.<br/><br/>"On behalf of our liege, I want to assure you that you will no longer be harried by these bandits.  And, after we deal with those that come here, it would likely be our next task to find their hidey-hole and remove them, either unto the next world, or into the hands of the authorities.  Should there be any remaining 'taxes' in their stores, then I think I speak for all of us in saying that what is rightfully yours shall be returned to you."  She spared a brief glance for the others, her shoulders drawn back and her jaw firm, the words sounding more like a decree than anything which might be questioned.