Marric sighs and stands, looking around at all of the women present. She really doesn't want to open the gates and bring hell down on all these women, who are clearly not fighters themselves... but any tricks she'd been thinking of are pretty much going to be useless.<br/><br/>"So there's a jailer, and then bandits nearby. Mr. Swordsman keeps hisself in a little hidey-hole." Marric rubs her chin, and looks at the lock. "Damn, but I don' like this in the slightest."<br/><br/>The monk sighs and gives the bracelet one last twist.<br/><br/>"Well, then, I ask y'all true..." She says, lowering her voice. "Y'all willing to trust a stranger right about now?"