Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20170510201346/@comment-1734134-20170517102150

An officer approaches you, tired, panting, he points to the horizon as he wipes the sweat from his face, “Sirs, sirs, things approach from the east.”

You can see flashes of light in the distance, atop the dunes, clouds of dust thrown up into the air as light craft come into view. A mix of trucks, scavenged cars and light armoured craft crewed by avian mutants, who lose screeches and war-cries from jagged beaks and fire off their auto-guns into the air. Crude rockets hurtle over head as they draw nearer. The local militia begins to sluggishly fall into position, clearly uncertain bout any of this.