<div class="floatright"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Bremorel image</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd396/Shdwrnnr/Fantasy%20Pics/felf_roguefight-2.jpg)</div></div></div><strong>Location:</strong>Finna' tent<br/><strong>With:</strong>Finna<br/><hr/>Bremorel whooped as she was tossed over Fin's shoulder, and again when her Viking friend gave her a swat, the half-elf's minimal "skirt" providing little protection.  She returned tit for tat, dangling down behind Finna as she was gave her easy access to spank her "captor" right back; through the armour it had much less impact, though it made good theatre for the cheering soldiers all around.  There was no dignity in her position, but that didn't matter at all tonight.  No, she just watched the soldiers get more distant as Fin used her strengh to carry Bree quite easily, hands scraping and stroking the sorceress' legs without pause.<br/><br/>Soon the upside-down sorceress felt Finna bend her knees to duck down a little, and they passed through the canvas flaps of a tent - Finna's, it must be.   In a moment she was set on her feet again - gently enough to belie Fin's "Villain" talk - and without delay Bree laid another hungy kiss on the other's lips, before laughing, clinging to the human for stability, nervousness and the strange thrill from showing off for the others threatening to devolve into helpless giggles now that the two were alone.  She did, however, use one hand between their bodies to unbuckle her baldric, tossing her long blade somewhat unceremoniously to the corner of the tent.  "So my darling Fin... my ravisher... alone at last." She was grinning, but her voice was low and thick.