Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25684606-20191108235505/@comment-33521582-20200113200601

"Skies are clear" Kuzvert signalled over comms, slowly tracking down the heavy bolter to Kelli's position before speaking again, "Kelli, grab anything you can and return to the transport. We're moving out."

With that, he dropped down into the troop compartment, its walls still ringing with the screams of Sawyr. A seemingly shell-shocked Edward sat on a bench, still strapped in. Patience exhausted, he grabbed the other Lok'hert by his clothes and spun him around. Even as he reached out to embrace the other man, a flick of his wrists made two wickedly curved blades materialize in his hands. He held Sawyr close against his body, placing his scarred cheek against the other man's, even as an inch of each duilehak sank into the priest's flesh, easily piercing the fatigues and skin. "Our blood we give the Duw Rhyfelwr freely, little Ma'kar," he whispered in the other man's ear, holding him gently, without twisting the blades, "never falter before outsiders, that is not our way."

As suddenly as it had started, it was over. He slid his steel out of the other man, wiping them of blood and hiding them away in one clean motion before shoving Sawyr towards the sitting medic. "Walker, make yourself useful," he said in a calm, carrying voice, "Sawyr is bleeding. Patch him up, it'll help you focus."