Tyrande Whisperwind

While a bit out of her element, Tyrande Whisperwind had come with a small cadre of Sentinals to assist her allies. It was her belief that it might have been feral worgen that were attacking travelers. If so, like many night elves, she felt it was her responsibility to deal with it. She didn't put much stock in large frogs, or murlocs. It was true Murlocs were common to this area, they were a nuisance at best.

Tyrande was not dressed in her usual, priestly attire today. Instead, in knee high boots with thigh high white stockings, an armored top and loin cloth. It was a bit ceremonial, and while it showed a healthy amount of cleavage, and the toned, peach shaped swell of her ass, she found it was more usable in battle than her usual, gossamer robes. Despite being over 10,000 years old, she still looked in her twenties, with her purple skin without a blemish. If that wasn't enough to identify her race, her long, tapered ears screamed elf.

Sending the sentinals into the swamp, Tyrande began her own scouting. She had no idea what was going on, but she was going to get to the bottom of it. Shifting through the forest, her ears twitched lightly. She was on high alert.... but even a veteran could get surprised, and perhaps being to wary would keep her from seeing one danger as she investigated another.