Whore of Attrition

After backing up into the stone ruins and healing Azazel and Vorland’s wounds, the Tieflings stop for breath.
Azazel looks amazed.
‘They don’t want the draw?’
Belial looks bemused.
‘They’re going to chase us down?’
Mastema looks muddled.
‘They think they can win?’
And Vorland looks vexed.
‘Fuckity! This is the longest any of our battles have ever lasted and we’ve only fired a single crossbow bolt between us!’
Azazel stops to think.
‘It’s that Halfling bitch. She’s actually got a plan and they’re sticking to it.’
Vorland grinds his teeth.
‘I hate it when the enemy actually thinks things through and doesn’t rush straight in. What kind of freaky Orcs are these?’
Mastema hoists her generous bosom.
‘If I’d known it was going to last more than three rounds, I would have put in more training. I’m buggered.’
Belial sniggers.
‘Not now baby, I’m a bit busy. Maybe later if you’re a good girl.’