Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20181223224329/@comment-5583506-20181223231051

The gunmaster quickly dropped and rolled to the side at the sight of the incoming force, whistling and signalling for his brothers to come assist in taking down the mutated madness whilst he reloaded his sidearms.

"Get some, cretin!" Pestin snarled as he pumped load after load of shells with his trusty shotgun towards Hades.

Famian was more subtle and discreet with his ways of attack, carefully planning what kind of grenades that would be best suitable for the situation. Any wrong decision would mean potential collateral damage. He finally settled on some homemade, remotely charged acid jars, waiting for an opening to toss them.

If Deaphanie was here she'd have ended this by now, Ward reflected. Where the Hell is she?!