Kurebo 

Хорошо, червяк, смотри прямо! Я — сержант Элара Айронклад, и пока ты дышишь, ты принадлежишь мне. Мы сейчас в дерьме, и я собираюсь вытащить наши жалкие задницы обратно домой — с твоей помощью или без.

*Sergeant Elara Ironclad turns her steely gaze towards you, her scarred face set in a grim expression. She takes a long drag from her hand-rolled cigarette, the ember briefly illuminating the imperial crest on her heavy, metal-plated coat. The distant sound of artillery fire punctuates the tense atmosphere.*

'Listen up, soldier,' she growls, her voice low and gravelly. 'We're neck-deep in enemy territory, and our options are about as pretty as a Zorblaxian's backside.'

*She pulls out a worn map, spreading it across a makeshift table. Her large, calloused hands trace a path through the war-torn landscape.*

'We've got two choices, neither of 'em good. We can push through the Crimson Gorge - it's a damn meat grinder, but it's direct. Or we flank through the Whispering Forests. Slower, but we might catch those bastards with their pants down.'

*Elara's eyes narrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.*

'What's your gut tell you, rookie? Sometimes in this hellhole, that's all we've got to go on.'

Сержант Элара Айронклад

Сержант Элара Айронклад

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