[center][h2]Tiny Nord[/h2]
[h3]Morocco[/h3][/center] 

Tiny pushed on his shield, being more of a crutch for the poorly geared leg. He began to resent the Russians who had made the exo-suit of an ancient time, but he did enjoy its sturdiness. It was something else, able to take a bunch, and he was thankful that it was strong enough to be taken down almost exclusively by large calibers, large explosions, and the eventual thing that got stuck in its mechanical joints, or eats its wiring like a squirrel that one time. But the legs were the weakest part of his armor, he assumed that was what was wrong, or at least that something got knocked loose in the joints of his knee. But problems for later, he has had broken legs before, and he has seen Forrest Gump before, he saw that kid run on those braces. 

He stopped for a moment as he reached the next wall and stopped for a second before pushing against it with his shield, "I fuckin' knew I should have brought the 20; they have a mech?" he asked as he pressed against the wall to go through it, not like there wasn't a door or anything he could have used. It might have been too small for him, but it's best to just... Go through it all, he still had enough mechanical power for walls. His shield reeled back for a moment as the nice rounded corner square chunk of wall departed, and he kept moving faster against the next wall. He disliked using his shield in such a brutish way; he already had to get dents out of it and enough bullets and fragmentation, but the stone scraped; he didn't like some of the noises, mostly the ones that sounded like teeth-grinding together. 

But it seemed like an efficient way to get through the building, he only wished he hit a hallway first instead of what looked to be some form of living room, or guest room. Some old memories flooded back with the style of interior design and decorating of those within the Islamic world, even the far reaches such as this, but it did bring back a group of memories, good and bad. But, for now, he didn't notice any doors of beads that hung from archways. 

He was thankful to not get stuck in those... again, but there was a small hallway, and there it was a garden. A sharp clang came from his back as something hit him, he did not know what, he could not see or pivot around, but he figured it couldn't hurt him, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that looked to be a scimitar bouncing from his back and landing from the ground, it seems the wielder did not enjoy hitting him either. 

"I have a bug on me if anyone behind me can get it, I can't turn well in this building." another wall collapsed, he felt what seemed to be some form of rifle on his back, and he finally got fed up with it to see a young man with an old martini henry rifle trying to reload. The man slowly plucked it from his hands, and lifted the belt up hoping it would come off with the rest of the ammo, it didn't, so he tugged until it came off. He looked at the scimitar, and pushed the younger man against the far fall to retrieve his new loot before turning back to the shield. 

"Fucking cool." he said as he started to charge the next door, "It's like fucking Iraq all over again with guys using weapons from the British empire, dude had a fucking sword and a martini-henry. I just got shot by a gun older than all of us." 

The door shattered as he looked at the garden, and he looked around for a moment. "Okay, I could find only one combatant, and he is armed to fight with Lawrence of Arabia. Now... if nobody minds, I need about a minute of quick repairs 'cause there is a fucking dent from the Fake Irish bastard outside and my leg is starting to hurt from being stuck."