Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20150203191459/@comment-4363162-20150409163214

The Ironclad got up. The armor was scorched by the flames, and in some places was still covered with burning oil. Scratches and dents where bullets had hit were everywhere. The great steel helm turned to face the man, the tiny insect that had spoken up to it. And then it spoke.

It's voice was gravelly and metallic, as if the throat had been combinde with a rusty mincer.

"Jean....Francois. Does not hold sufficient authority to intervene with the unit's operation."

"To be eliminated."

The Ironclad raised it's flamethrower with a metallic click.