It was hard to hear anything with a pair of thighs pulled tight to your head. Camps were loud to begin with. And it being the end of the world and all, it wasn't hard to find willing partners looking to forget a bit.  A lithe human girl, maybe a touch over 20, sprawled out in Redfists tent. Thighs , soft, milky white and trembling blocked the warchiefs command. That's how the elf liked it.<br/><br/>There was too many faces to bash in, too many throats to cut, but here? In her tent far from the front lines, she could just listen to a warm bodies pulse, and coax a little pleasure.  She was happy, mouth warm, wet and dripping with the girls arousal when she felt the tap on her head. She brushed the girls fingertips away, dismissing the concern. But they came again, this time the tapping was more frantic, matching the girls heartbeat drumming in her thighs. "Whaaattttt?" The elf growled, licking wetness from her lips, "The fuck are you being all precious abou-"<br/><br/>She stopped. The drumming she mistook for the girls pulse now loud, pounding behind them. Wardrums.<br/><br/>"Shit..." she pushed herself up, and fumbled with her leathers.  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and motioned for the girl (whose name she never asked for) to leave hastily.  She winked," See ya up front , kid."<br/><br/>She fastened her seemingly endless stream of belts, and pulled her bow and Polearm from their resting place. She strapped on her chainmail, fussed her short undercut hair, and felt her halved ear twitch.  She downed a portion of whatever rot-gut liquor she'd been drinking , and secured her last piece of armor.<br/><br/>Hastily she made her way towards the front, bow drawn, arrows ready to fly. She set a few sailing towards a pair of shufflers, then drew again.  Striding with purposeful steps towards the action, she only stops to kick the remains of the foes she downs. One shot leads to another, and another fallen undead. Mechanical, the deaths mean little, but the Magma Wyrm in the sky.... was different.<br/>And it just landed...Oh good.<br/>And a Frosty fucker right behind it...<br/>"I'll be damned... they pulled out the heavy artillery today..."<br/><br/>The old as dirt Sentinal pried a flask from her boot and started to tare strips of bandages , soaking them. She yells loudly, "Think of the trophy that things head'll make..."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>