The apostle was wary as we approached the keep, but the swish of her tail seemed more bored than agitated. I didn't blame her. She'd reached eighth level in the time we'd been apart. Not a single being within High Valley could threaten her, save for Fable.
"Using magic for the fortifications, eh? I can appreciate the effort, but I doubt they would mean much in a battle. There's only what, two, three hundred soldiers here? Almost triple that in total, but I doubt those slaves would contribute much in a war," she said.
I gave her an appraising glance. She'd taken all that in at a glance, and somehow got the numbers right. "This place was never meant as a stronghold, but as a refuge. For all those who flee the war and search for peace," I answered.
"Even so, it's not enough. I shudder to think of what Luke would do if he found you with only these misfits for protection."
"I would be grateful to see him at all, even if he got upset."
She let out a sigh. "I suppose that's true."
