Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160714040922/@comment-28358106-20160719202416

"Well, lad, if you need something dug quickly, ask a Dwarf," Bale chuckles. "We can have those trenches deep and spiked within the hour.  Although I don't know about burying the catapults along with the ballistae.   We have to have some artillery movable, if it comes down to it.  And believe me, I plan on cutting down every rat bastard that comes through that pass."

Praetor looks up just in time to see the female Dwarf remove her helmet. Beautiful locks of blonde hair spill out (and no, she doesn't have a beard.)  Simrit points to Praetor and whispers something to her, smiling. The Dwarf gets a look of joy on her face...

...and takes a running leap up onto Praetor, kissing his helmet.

Simrit falls to the ground, tears streaming down her face in laughter. "Guess you got some more competition now, Aabi!" she guffaws.