Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20190911202955/@comment-25684606-20190920185214

"S' just ma duty, m'lady", Lem replied, clumsily taking a knee and looking at the ground like it held the secrets to resurrecting the Emperor. "But if ah, one of 'em healin' types coulda take a look at ma arm, I'd be all too grateful."

Not wearing any sort of armor, just a dirty, flimsy, orange overall of standard size, it was a miracle Lem's arm hadn't been blown off clean at the shoulder. Though cauterized by the burn of the plasma, the wound was easily the size of a grown man's fist, exuding the stench of ozone and burnt flesh.

"Can't shoot too well wit' jus' one of em", Lem added, not wanting to appear whiny but to convey the importance of a functioning arm to his service for the Emperor.