Brynhilde had no desire to truly bed the half-orc, nor his half-elven brother, but she needed their aid for her little encounter. With any luck they might die, either by the hands of the slavers, or her own, that way she could retake her money and hold onto her purity. She turned a careful eye to the room, it wasn't spacious but at least it was clean. The noble lady turned towards the tusked man before her and slowly dragged her fingers across his armor, working the straps of the upper part loose as she dragged it off. Letting the heavy chest-piece fall on the ground, her eyes ran across his figure, drawing those tender aches out as she touched the old scars. After a while her hand dipped down, cupping the half-orc between his legs before moving her fingers away again. She teased him for a while, wondering if he might force her.