Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-933831-20140613065801/@comment-24684131-20140616195906

Liath was busy weaving, trying to move towards the man, when he saw Bianca smash into the crates that the pair of them had sprung their attack from.

Suddenly, there was a shout, and Liath lost his targets, the men around him backing off a considerable distance and opening up a corridor of sorts for Mr.Fatigues, who was pointing his axe towards him.

GUN.

Time slowed down for Liath, his reactions feeling sluggish and dull as dropped to a knee and slammed his open palm into the ground. His eyes were fixed on the man - Khamsin the sandstorm - just as a torrent of muzzle flashes bore into his retinas.

The technique Liath used was slipshod and rushed, nothing as smooth as his combat abilities were, but sure enough; a wall of ice barely large enough to shield his body sprang from the earth. However, the ammunition Khamsin was using must have been special, some sort of dust based rounds perhaps, because due to that and the formiddible fire rate, Liath's cover was slowly being chewed away faster than he could repair it without the crystal embbeded in his gauntlet burning out.

A searing pain exploded across his left-thigh; some of the pellets had broken through close to the center, grazing the leg he had his weight on. Clenching his teeth, Liath held steady. Noticing one advantage to the torrent of fire he was coming under was that a considerable amount of dust and debris was being kicked up. If only this damn asshole would stop firing, maybe he could make a move for Bianca and get them the hell out of here.