Mizrel cursed as she fled from the battle field. The Coalition shelling had landed near her and killed nearly everyone with the shrapnel from the explosions. So she'd taken the hint of the Gods and left. Better to flee and fight another day. Straight up combat wasn't her fotre unless she had a overwhelming advantage. She didn't like death runs. Pushing her white hair back from her face, she gestures to the altered and augmented human to proceed her into the bunker. Wondering briefly at why there was a faded '8' painted on the side.<br/><br/>Behind her the iron flail continues to hammer into the ground and people on both sides dying and she was glad to get away from it, was her thought as the dark elf enters the bunker. Her eyes, adapting quickly to the dim lighting, notices the armored human sitting on a bedroll and immediately steps to tyhe side of the door. Aiming her pistol at the woman with one hand and her other raised to cast a spell.