Alanoth

Cornish slang for George, which sometimes means earthworker

Welcome friend, enjoy yourself here, its very easy to do that ^_^

Iron remained close to Brave, using the recovered assault rifle to eliminate what remained of the various smaller Akrid in the area. He soon caught on that the glowing orange areas of their body were vital points, so he took aim and soon eliminated them all. He sighed and then returned his attention to the Sergeant. "This is serious...let me see if the medics made it, otherwise I'll be right back." He quickly began sorting through the wreckage and bodies, looking for survivors and/or supplies.

Iron had enough of a strong body to resist any truly mortal damage, but he was still dizzy and disoriented. He looked to his right and saw the sarge, then looked to the left and saw one of the squadmates get killed by something's pincer. It impaled his skull?! He immediately grabbed the nearest weapon, not sure if it was his or not, and scrambled over to Brave. "Sergeant! We have to get out of here, now!"

Brawny smiled in appreciation at the young colt and hooked the cart to his back. "Y'all wanna come with me?"

Brawny remained in the corner but looked up as the phone cal ended. "What's the news?"

Brawny had daydreamed off for a moment, then shook his head and returned to reality. "Sorry about that little guy, spaced out for a second. How's the cart looking?"

Iron chuckled as well, and held out a hoof after a moments's hesitation. "Iron Willmane, Specialist."

Iron felt himself just a little anxious over the entire situation. They were now en route to an unfamiliar location, in unfriendly territory, with no back-up to assist them should something go wrong. This screamed blasphemy according to all of the training he had received these past few years, but he didn't question it. He merely checked and re-checked his weapons, not wanting something to go wrong should they meet hostiles soon after landing. After all, be prepared had been his bunkhouse's motto, and they had a 16% survival rating, more than anyone else did. He snapped out of his thought and looked up to the Sergeant, and nodded in affirmation. "I'm fine, sir."

Woot!

Welcome to Canterlot, have a great stay here, and should anyone give you a hard time, just holler!

Welcome to Canterlot! I hope you enjoy yourself here

Name[colour=#282828]: Specialist Iron Willmane [/colour] Age[colour=#282828]: 27[/colour] Gender[colour=#282828]: male[/colour] Species[colour=#282828]: Earth Pony[/colour] Affiliation[colour=#282828]: EAF - Royal Equestrian Army[/colour] Rank[colour=#282828]: E4[/colour] time in service[colour=#282828] 8 years[/colour] time in rank[colour=#282828] 1 year[/colour] Squadron[colour=#282828]: Misfit 1-3 Delta Force[/colour] Mane/tail style: More commonly known as High and Tight, in other words clipped short enough to be seen as tightly pulled together mane/tail colour Black with gray speckles much like his pelt pelt colour Gray with assorted black speckles eye colour Brown Biography: Iron Willmane was an orphan from age 13, toughed up by living in a bad neighborhood, only lucky to survive long enough to find an orphanage with food. He remained there, learning how to defend the other kids and himself, all from fighting against the rough and tumble gangs who liked to hop the fence and bully the orphans. When he turned 18 he was asked to leave, but was encouraged to try and apply with the military, due to his large stature and muscular build. He took up this advice, and when he was 19 he signed up with the Royal Equestrian Army. He remained there, never having truly been to war because there wasn't one to fight. He was promoted to Corporal just before the incident on the new world was announced, and made a Specialist due to his high proficiency with heavy weapons and close combat. He was immediately assigned to Delta force, and this will be his first real live mission. Personality[colour=#282828] Iron tends to mostly be quiet, so its hard to tell exactly what he's thinking or what kind of pony he truly is. One thing that is visible, however, is that he will never let somepony pick on another who cannot defend themselves. He always steps in for the underdog, even when its foolhardy to do so. He obeys orders unquestioningly, but he's more than prepared to make some slight adjustments to help out his comrades.[/colour]

I'm looking to get involved somehow aroudn here more than I have, so I'll work something out with ya if yer still looking.

A Gray and Black Speckled stallion wandered by Sweet Apple Acres, a cart attached to his ever working back, and the smell of apples drew him to a panting halt. He had eaten most of his non-perishables long ago on the long journey from Bareback Gulch towards whatever town came next, and the sweet scent of apples was driving him crazy. He looked to a strangely assorted line that seemed to be heading towards a stand of some kind, and then his eyes traveled all the way up. He saw several piles of apples next to the stand, and that was enough to convince him of what he needed. He quickly drew up a short second wind and walked up behind a mare who seemed quite loud and with a strange cape billowing off her back. As per his usual self, he felt a blush coming on, and the bashful miner let his head fall down before he cleared his throat and addressed the pony in front of him. "[colour=#808080]Excuse me miss, um...could I trouble you for information? I uh...wanted to know if you know what the price of them apples over yonder would be. I'm quite er...famished, its a long way from Bareback Gulch to here, y'know?"[/colour] He then fell quiet as he waited, scuffing his hoof on the ground rather self-consciously. He now noticed that he still had his cart attached to his back, but he didn't care. Right now he hoped this line moved quickly so that he could get himself some apples for the journey and then continue onwards. Hopefully this little detour didn't make him late.

Brawny held the cart up like a jack easily, knowing it was a bit heavy for the colt to deal with.

click on this whenever you are having a bad day or something tragic has occured in your life. The song is beautiful

Brawny dug through the bag in the back of the cart, which he had kept for emergencies like this, and handed the colt a screwdriver as requested.

Brawny had been walking the entire way here, not wanting to obstruct anyone else who needed to use the carts. So when the company halted he gratefully hit the ground to rest a moment. He would only stay there awhile, then immediately went to gather the temporary structure supplies. Honestly they were just tents but he used a complicated name to make others feel better about their situation.

"Alright, sounds good to me. Go ahead and have a look pardner." He smiled at the young colt and then lead him over to the cart to let him look at it.

Brawny shrugged in response. "Alright I suppose, my cart here jsut broke down so I'm going to be late with this delivery." He nodded to the cart with a frustrated sigh. He suddenly had an idea, the colt seemed lonely, so he turned to him in a friendly manner. "Why don't you stick around and come with me when I'm done? I sure could use the company."

My pleasure ^_^