The shield felt heavy for the first time tonight.  A weight on her powerful arm that only grew in intensity as the time lengthened.  This was supposed to have been a simple matter, a quick press into these depths for treasure and honor.  Three of her comrades lay dead now because of their foolish shaman and his irrational fear of spiders.  Three dead and her only comfort was that the screaming shaman had been among them.  Beneath her boot crunched a spider, giving her a sick satisfaction in the ease she crushed the child’s nemesis.  Still, of the three she had enjoyed the company of the other orc and had meet him several times before in more intimate surroundings.  The thought made the rage in her veins boil with fresh fire that lit her eyes.<br/><br/>Plate armor shifted across her muscular frame.  Slabs of metal working amidst buckles of leather to cover the full figure she cast.  Broad shoulders shifted down to a heavy chest which was constrained tightly by the armored corset she donned.  Green flesh threatened to peek forward from the tops or spill out least a buckle not hold.  Her stomach was lined with bits of chainmail that were already broken and shredded in certain places.  Some of the armor on her thick thighs was singed from fire, while a layer of frost still clung to the metal overlay of her boots.  In general the woman seemed to have walked through a hell of fire and ice.  When the small voice of the night elf reached her ears there was only a resounding grunt before she pushed forward so that she would be the first into the room.<br/><br/>That battered shield lifted upward despite the weight while her grip readjusted on the heavy bladed sword in her hand.  “The name is Rhea and I doubt you’ll be using it long.”<br/>