Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20190911202955/@comment-1734134-20191025184308

(My apologies again for the delay in this reply. This won’t be happening again.)

Ishamel and Lem are approached by figures from the darkness. Clad in long coats and armed with rifles, they advance on the Penal Legionnaire and Lem with caution, weapons raised,

"Identify yourselves, now."

“There are others,” Siros says with a sigh, “This used to be an old mine, decades before this war started. We’ve been holding out for three months, doing what we can to harry the aliens. There’s about two hundred of us, mostly left behinds from the Tau’s advance. We moved here to escape the aliens before they could encircle us. But there’s also a great deal of wounded and civilians, at least a hundred.” Hen is met by plenty of veterans. Many of the Guard are grizzled men, bandaged, bloody and beaten, they often wear improvised armour patches and carry a variety of weapons. Recognising his rank and regiment, many offer Hen nods of respect or brief salutes; despite their beatings and grim demeanour, many of them seem to be in good spirits – many of them having made trophies of the dead Tau. A few look somewhat weary – many of them are emaciated or tired. Many of them look upon the Scions with a blend of suspicion, curiosity and respect, their ragged appearance in much contrast to the appearance of the elite troopers.