<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/0gfM4P5.jpg)  </div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Molle Aliyev</strong></span><br/><strong>HP:</strong>12<strong>AC:</strong>16<strong>Passive Senses:</strong>15<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Paranoid.<br/>Character Sheet (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=627666)<br/><hr/>Her mouth tight, Molle continues to seem incapable of polite conversation.  She checks the coins in her purse, placing down a few coins upon the table... she doesn't seem to care whether they are selling their food or offering it as a welcoming gift.  "Thank you," she mutters, wandering off a few more steps toward the fort.  "How many soldiers?" she says flatly, noting the practicality of the defenses are beneficial, but by no means impressive.<br/><hr/><strong>OOC:</strong><br/>To expedite any ongoing trade, when she has the chance she will sift through their wares for any practical survival gear... they are on the cusp of the green belt, and she hopes to assess what gear they'll need... as, soon enough, they won't be sleeping in farmhouses and haylofts.