Applying another glob of polish to her cloth, Eilowyn scrubbed and wiped until every last bit of undead flesh had been removed from her breastplate. It had been a big job -- partly because she was so conscientious, and partly because she was so busty. Of course, this wasn't a regular breastplate -- it was one of those form-fitting fantasy breastplates with individual cups. Nevertheless, it was now spic and span and shiny enough to see her rosy-cheeked face in.
She hung it back on the rack and, after admiring it for a moment, started in on her greaves, which were a rather big job on their own. She'd been waist-deep in ghouls for a good part of that last crypt, and her hips weren't anything to sneeze at size-wise either. Fortunately, if there was one thing the barracks of the Holy Order of Eola had plenty of, it was polish.
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