A minute or two later...
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:40, Sun 14 Nov 2010.

 ...well, closer to ten all told, but that's a necessity brought about by 'Masque being careful to keep his speed down to one that won't harm unarmoured human flesh and bone. Crossing one of the low ridges that break up the area he drops down into cover from the confusion and terror going on over by the hospital and settles to one knee, carefully laying the three C.S. soldiers and the Tolkeen man down on the loam, checking them for visible injuries as he reaches into one of the panniers on his belt, finally spinning down the faint, shimmering form-fitting energy field that's done so much to keep fur and metal alike together during the recent... festivities.

 "Am being sorry could not be doing more." the massive, alien-looking feline rumbles, producing a standard CS-pattern RMK pack from his kit, "But was clusterfuck all over, youbet. How are each of you being hurt?"

Heinrich nodded, "Ain't zombie food friend, you bet you did more than enough, gun shot to the gut here. Been layin' around that damn farm for a few days it seems." Heinrich lays out flat, so the big tiger can see the wound easily enough. "Normally, I'd be healing that on my own, but I've been to weak to focus. Give me a minute. See to those CS scum. I may have questions for them soon enough." Heinrich's eyes glass over a bit and he runs his hand back and forth over the wound, while it slowly closes up. He sits upright, extending his right hand, "Call me Heinrich friend."

PM

 'Masque watches with a certain measure of interest as the obvious mage works up his spell and plays it over the injury upon his flank, knitting flesh torn by war back into something resembling health, then lowering a massive three-fingered hand and extending a single digit from it to shake, "You can be calling me Silvermasque, though most are just saying 'Masque." he replies, before recovering that finger and shaking it chidingly, "But was just tearing big hole in demon for torturing prisoners, da? Please to not be making me regret who I was grabbing."

Heinrich struggles to his feet, "No torture, it's too easy to go the wrong way when you get invovled with that. I find cold vengence much easier and less morally implicit. Especially in times like these. You see, Quebec promised me a pass, along with all my family if I'd fight with them. Then, I return home to find my family gone. Blood, sure, but no family. They screwed me, so here I am. Fighting the CS to get a shot at them. But no, I don't torture."

Of the three Coalition soldiers, one is unconscious, and two are awake. The unconscious one is a young man, maybe 18 or 19 with bandages around his torso.

Private Liu looks angry and afraid. She has bandages wrapped around the top of her head and another around her neck. She looks at Silvermasque when he talks but does not answer his question...

The corporal pushes himself up to rest on his elbows behind his back... "I suppose I should thank you... but that depends on what you are going to do with us now that we are in your custody..."

"Sleeping boy there was bit... by some huge mother fucker a week ago. The private was shot, twice in the head and neck. I had some dark magic tear my brain up on the inside, I'm still not back to fucking normal..."

"You look like a mercenary...? Why the hell you fighting for these demon worshipping puss-bags... if you don't mind me asking... and please tell me you have smokes?"

 "Me, I fight mainly because I am not liking facists, youbet. Ancesters fought them in Great Patriotic War grandmother was telling me... besides, is good money." 'Masque replies, before looking at the trio of Coalition soldiers and studying the downed sleeper, then extending his lower left-side hand towards Liu holding the standard-issue C.S. robot medical pack out towards her and using the lower-right to point to the injured man.

 "Just so you know, do not be being fooled by handsome exterior. Inside, under awful lot of metal I am being human as you are, well, as human as brain in jar is getting." he rumbles with his best effort at amiability before settling down to sit, putting him on about the level of a standing man as he looks between Hassan and Heinrich, whilst reaching into his kit once more and producing a cigar built to his own heroic scale, which he uses silver vibro-claws to snip off two slivers from, which are caught and extended to the two other men as his sensor systems continue to monitor their back-trail, "Well, right now I am not so sure. When walking dead boiled up I bugged out with anyone I could reach. Thing is if I am returning you is chance demon-kissing bitch might still be in charge, that is assuming no-one else has shot her. On other hand if I am letting you go you are dead in hours or days, da? Thinking maybe best bet would be to get you to refugee camp or direct to POW transport - believe or not, camps are meant to be half-way civilised. Couldn't keep Cyber-Knights and Lazlo support if they behaved the way you folks do, youbet."