The dying roar of the Rat Ogre signalled the end of the battle, but the Huntress wasn't about the let a dead animal distract her. A feeling of satisfaction flowed as the arrow pierced the Shaman's shield, she glanced at the Marianne and Ayse as the fire struck the rat shaman. They were capable in a fight, which was good to know. When her gaze turned back to the Shaman, it was clear that he wasn't dead yet.. somehow. She drew and fired a quick shot at the ratkin as he scurried away, but she missed by a hair's breadth. 

Fariha couldn't help but feel disappointed as the shaman fled the scene. As a hunter, she had failed to bring down her prey. She clicked her tongue in irritation before letting the feeling dissipate. There was no point in feeling this way, and it was time to reap the spoils anyway. Hunters were first and foremost, scavengers. Although most would hold such a description with negative connotations, Fariha merely took it into stride as if it was natural. 

After drinking a magic potion to restore her magic pool, the wood elf slung her bow over her shoulder before she began to rummage through the belongings of the fallen. Many of the weapons appeared to be damaged or otherwise unusable. However a sword among the discarded weapons caught her eye. It was a sword of Dwarven craft. Well made and hardly used. Perhaps the one who wielded the weapon was very unfortunate or unskilled, but that wasn't something worth caring about. She rummaged through her pouch, producing a charm which was placed onto the flat of the sword, causing it to vanish almost instantly. The huntress continued her search, collecting small amounts of gold around the field before walking over to the robes that the shaman had left behind. The robes were burnt and tattered, not that it was worth anything to begin with. Under the charred cloth was a totem and a small green stone.. She didn't really know what the stone was, but since it was on a rat shaman, it could be important. 

The totem seemed different from the other rat totems that she had seen before. Perhaps this was important as well. Both items went into her pouch, she couldn't really find much else from the mess that was the battlefield. As she walked passed the deceased, a stray bladed point caught onto her hip quiver. Fariha quickly investigated the condition of her quiver. A small hole had been punched into it. It wasn't large enough for her arrows to fall out, but the quiver itself was quite old anyway. [color=a2d39c]"I guess I need a new one.."[/color] She sighed, hooking it back into position.[hr] The giant doors of the fortress opened; the dwarves filing in with the corpse of their commander. Fariha followed close behind Grendrick, unslinging her bow from her shoulders and readying an arrow. The interior of the fortress was somewhat extravagant for Fariha's taste. The golden statues and the tapestries just seemed quite unnecessary, but she was unfamiliar with the way royalty worked.

As they approached the main hall, the stink of the ratkin stung her nose once more. The wood elf was quick to react to the conflict, quickly firing a volley of arrows at the skavens that flooded into the main hall. Although her arrows hit their mark, it felt as though the number of them wasn't dented at all.