Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20180112125145/@comment-30488984-20180115055149

Aison rises with Ceras' aid. His chestplate all but completely shredded, those who look upon him will see dozens of high explosive impacts upon his pauldrons and limbs. His chestpiece is completely blown open, his black carapace bare for all to see with his charred flesh smoking and bloody.

"Hold a second cousin. Try not to aggravate them." Aison mumbles to Ceras. "We need to soothe their minds or we may end up like Orion there."

Aison, resting upon his comrade looks around at the situation, sensing a strange tension that he had not expected between mortals and these Astartes. Something must have occurred for these men to be belligerent enough to stand against Astartes, even with the commands of a Planetary Governor, Aison thought to himself. He inhales deeply but cringes as his chest expands and cracks his burned flesh, leeking more of his bright crimson blood. He places his gauntlet upon his chest, attempting to cast Healer to knit his broken body once again. He decides he is in no place to speak, not yet at least.

Aison looks to see if the remaining two Guardsmen of their squad are in the crowd around them, wondering if they survived the onslaught of the Skitarii and the Heretek. Despite his first impressions of them, they were brave warriors and would have likely died alongside them without question should he not have ordered them to fall back.