Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20161215224030/@comment-30059998-20161221190711

The barrage of hotshot lasbolts scorch the holy armour and increase the amount of wounds that Pyotr is sustaining. But he does not care, for he wishes to die in glory and in service of the Emperor as his ancestors have done. He spies his two co-workers at the main defense line of the Imperials and scowls.

Heaving the heavy bolter once more, Pyotr lumbers towards the storm troopers, uncaring of their return fire, as he pumps more bolts into the enemy position. "Are you going to sit there like cowards and wait for them to kill you or are you going to die like real soldiers with your hands wrapped around the traitors' throats?!" Pyotr bellows at the defense line, more so to his co-workers than to the Imperials.