[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/BG4vqfM.png[/img][/right]

Tssk, it seemed the enemy had been more aggressive in their golem making than Maeve had anticipated. She hadn't even stepped more than a foot away from her servant before she was under attack. Perhaps too aggressively, as Maeve was no fool to try defending off such an attack on her own, much less not actively call out for her servant. Maybe if it had been a bit less aggressive, she might have underestimated it. Most so, she knew the point of such a reckless attack was to draw attention, for something else to attack. 

Layering attacks was obvious, especially for a warrior who had grown remarkably used to standard battlefield procedure. 
[b]"Rider, defensive maneuvers right now!"[/b] She'd chide her servant for deciding to flirt with an enemy later. Right now, the commander was under attack. 

Her sling swung about, striking the golems hard each time. Each time one was destroyed. The attack at least made it impossible for her to climb back onto her mount, though probably it was better she not be on a mount in the first place. She hated horses. If she was going to ride, it was going to be on the same saddle as her servant, or nothing at all. She thrust out with Lugh of Celtchar, killing a golem even if she missed, as the blade would twist about for a deadly strike. It was clear this attacker was both shameless, and a kabbalah mage. Both disgusting in their own right. 

She was expecting her servant to rush over and scoop her up side saddle at the very least. After all, the chanting ritual took more than a few seconds, and in that time Maeve was ripping through the bat-like golems. They'd still have to arrive from their scattered locations, and her servant was more than capable of reaching her from a few feet away before she was struck down.