Tarka liked Booty Bay. An inscrutable cesspool of debauchery, where everything and thankfully- most everyone - had their price.  The Orc  Deathknight spent most of her time once liberated from the Lich Kings grasp in the Goblin town.   No one asked questions - the booze was cheap, and the women..even cheaper.  The orc had just finished up a session with one of Booty Bays finest whores ,when she strolled down the stair case just in time to watch the debauchery unfold.   Tarka cracks her shoulders and rolls her head slowly back and forth. Humans. Elves. Space-goats. A mix of Azeroth's seediest.<br/><br/>She makes her way down the stairs , her plate boots clomping loudly as she goes, and gathers like many around the show of machismo. She heads towards the human and the elf arm wrestling- in what was clearly a contest to  onlookers of just who's dick was the largest. If arm wrestling was any measure she's fairly sure she might have a bigger wang than both men combined, and she didn't even have a the anatomy (with out strapping it on of course). Grabbing a flagon of ale from a random table as she meanders through the crowd as she lands just behind the victorious human arm wrestler , just in time for him to slam face first into her chest.<br/><br/>Her large form comprised of thick muscles,  clothed in simple chain and plate greaves and a leather battle harness over a simple linen tank-top, doesn't move as the human slams into her.  Her bulky tattooed arms help aid in rolling her shoulders, as she looks down at the human. Her ale spilled over them both, she curls a lip and looks down at the human.<span style="color: Olive">"So...."   </span>She slaps her hands together after tossing the empty tankard of ale to the side,<span style="color: olive">"You can beat an elf...impressive."</span>she mocks.<span style="color: olive">"With practice you'll be able to hold your own with a gnome."<br/>
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