"She fought Procois when its people suffered

Slayed bandits and soldiers by the hundred

She died by treachery but lived once more

Now spirits guard her and guide her sword."

Thalla stands as tall as most men, her long, lean limbs hiding a surprising strength. Her skin is tan from days out in the sun and working over a forge, and clear blue eyes survey all before her, a confident smile across her face, confident that few could stand in her way. Her golden hair is shaved on the side, the top twisted into a long ponytail running down the back of her neck.

She wears well-made scale mail, wearing a fur-lined long coat over it that hides the hand axes and longsword hanging from her hips. Her trusty maul hangs on her back, the haft notched with dozens of lines. One look at the worn and battered maul head shows exactly what she's been tallying.