Eisenhorn — Roleplayer Guild

Well, barring the sudden new arrivals, which included some mastiff handling Arbites and the mechanicus fellow. Techsorcerist, or whatever the gear head had introduced himself as, was just too much of a mouthful for Stukov to be able to really say, so gear head would suffice. Besides, knowing the Mechanicus, he wasn't wrong. They were more metal than flesh typically anyways. As for the Arbites fellow, well, the more raw manpower the better for when things hit the fan in a hurry, to put it mildly. Watchman had the right idea though, so he rapidly followed the veteran up into the transport, grabbing another, albeit different designed, rebreather for himself and came back down the gangway to the group, the new rebreather secured over his mouth and nose to allow him to breath easily in toxic environments again. Looking over the autogun in his hand, he calmly made sure his knife was affixed to the barrel, on the bayonet lug, before walking over to the burning building, seeming undisturbed by the idea of storming a burning building with weapons in hand, looking for something important before everything collapsed on them. Just like his line of work, really, go where the enemy doesn't want you, storm the place, complete the mission. Maybe get out alive if the Emperor was willing. "I'll take point, keep up folks. Especially you Smiles, you got the extinguishers."

Moving through the door, Stukov would move lower to the ground in an altered stance of sorts, helping avoid smoke closer to the ceiling while not compromising on his movement speed or ability to react to threats. Hostile environments, with possible threats around every corner, was par for the course to the armsman. What made daemon blessed, or outright daemonic, threats even worse? When raging fires and holes in reality made it harder to see, move, fight, or even keep living and functioning like a normal human should be. So Stukov would lead the way in search of a way down to the basement, as Boss had suggested, watching for trouble and waiting for the extinguishers as necessary. Not much to be said in a burning building, so the armsman kept his peace until it was necessary to speak.
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