[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180920/c845590b14d1f6441c547612f9dc56a5.png[/img][/center] [hr][color=gray][b] -Al'Kashir -Troop Dropship - Landing Zone [/b][/color][hr] Folvik's body was, by this time, saturated with adrenaline produced by his own body to cope with the stress. As the ramp went down he and the other soldiers disembarked and his boots met with the soft, wet, and muddy texture of the ground with an audible [i]squish[/i]; shortly after he took a knee waiting for his C.O. to give them commands. Their C.O. was an ornery, loud mouthed, S.O.B., Folvik figured that if anyone were to survive it'd be him. That illusion was shattered the moment he was shot in the head by some sort of energy weapon, Folvik witnessed the scene as if it were in slow motion, dazed by the sudden death of their C.O. who just a moment ago was spouting tough talk and barking commands like it wasn't anyone's business. As his C.O. fell, Folvik made a reactionary, adrenaline fueled response to take cover in a nearby defilade and switched the safety of his rifle to the [i]hot[/i] position. The screeches from the surrounding area started to intensify, the adrenaline in his body was keeping him alert and fit for combat, he took up a firing position and readied himself to fire at anything that wasn't human. As the screeches drew closer he could almost make out a word. [color=cyan]"[i]Krash'nikar...?[/i]"[/color] Suddenly, a screaming, angry lizardman came running out towards their helpless medic who seemed to be in a daze, he took a second to observe noting the damage taken by the creature and promptly aimed for the upper chest, but then he thought again and went for the pelvic area aiming to take the legs of the creature from right under it. It was a big target, he was facing the front of the creature, the shot was clear. He squeezed the trigger and let a bullet fly from his gun ripping through the air and into flesh - No dice. [color=cyan]"Damn flinch!"[/color] He had missed high and left into the lower abdomen clear from any real bone mass. He fired three more shots from his semi-automatic marksman rifle and witnessed the creature fall face flat into the mud and dirt as the creature's pelvis was broken in many places, unable to support the running sprint. The creature wailed in pain as it thrashed helplessly, but Folvik couldn't waste another bullet, he figured that the Medic should be able to finish the job. Even with the small victory Folvik could not miss a beat, he resolved himself crouched in a small defilade firing into the mass of charging reptilians, picking his shots carefully and getting a feel for their natural movement and anticipating opportunities for more valuable targets. In such a close environment, Folvik took a calculated risk and attached his bayonet, but in the middle of this he was caught off guard by one of the reptilians who came charging into the defilade. Folvik blocked the first strike with his rifle, and rolled away from the second strike wrapping the attacker's melee weapon with his arm as he attempted to kick the creature away and in response it dug its heels into the mud - it wasn't going far. Folvik was starting to lose the grip on the Lizardman's weapon, he grabbed his pistol with his free hand only to despair as audible clicks were the only things that happened when he pulled the trigger. The lizardman stopped struggling with its weapon and instead fell on top of Folvik in an attempt to beat him to death, Folvik felt around for his bayonet as he struggled for dear life against his bigger opponent. Each fist pounded onto his head like a hammer, the soft mud provided some degree of comfort, however, it was still very painful. He desperately felt around for the hilt of his bayonet. Folvik was starting to get progressively weaker with each strike, when he finally found his bayonet, he thrust the bayonet into the large neck of the creature and repeatedly stabbed it in different areas, his enemy combatant pushed itself off of him and started to cover the wounds with its hands, Folvik finished the job with his rifle and shot his enemy in the head. Folvik's face was bruised, cut, and bloodied while his once clean armor was now covered in mud and the blood of his enemy. He finished attaching his bayonet to his rifle and continued his attempt to help his team. The day was young and they were still in the thick of fighting.