Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20170530194819/@comment-5543592-20170613194306

"We're a scouting party, supposed to radio back whatever we saw." The Handsman said as he lead them into a building, hidden from the road, and up to the second floor. "There were about twenty of us.  Now there's three.  That bastard wiped us all out."

They entered into a room that had once been an open office space, now filled with rotting chairs and desks. Two other Handsman were in the room, seated around a meeting table.

The far wall was an open window, that provided a good view of the surroundings streets, buildings, and the intersection they had just been in. However, it must've not been visible to whoever was firing the mini-nukes.

One of these two Handsmen wore the armor of a simple infantryman, the other the gear of a sergeant. Both with covered in soot, and there were dings and scraps on their armor.

"My peepers best be decieving me,"  the Sergeant said, as he turned to face them. Although is face was obscured, his voice was very recognizable, "'Cause it looks like Tim Ashford and his band of merrymen."