Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20170510201147/@comment-30488984-20170627074142

Karliel's form slams against the side of the corridor as the blasts knock him off balance. His one functioning lense helping him peer through the smoke, Karliel lets loose a volley of bolt fire from both weapons into the rebel ranks.

He soon realizes the gas as he sees the rebels scratching at their throats and suffocating but murders them nonetheless, giving little heed to the gas, relying on both his enhancements and helm to keep him safe.

Shooting point blank, Karliel laughs as his foes are torn to pieces as the bolt shells leave their bodies little more than pulp. "Die whelps! May your blood forever fuel the furnaces of war!"

Any rebel that got too close would be smashed aside with Karliel's left arm. None shall stop him, he will tear this commander apart with his bare hands.

"I come for you Commander!" cried out Karliel after he fired into more rebels.

Karliel still feels tremendous amounts of pain, but whatever drugs were flowing through his body we allowing him to fight on. He almost doesn't realize his limp or the damage into his lower back, the pain merely fueling his anger and joy in the blood letting.