The Horde
Ricmo pulled the goggles firmly down over his eyes and gunned the engine of the massive infernal machine on which he rode. From up here in the drivers cupola he had a great view, as his massive red-iron monstrosity tore over the hellish wasteland. The beast belched black smoke and hot steam, huge treads crushing anything unfortunate enough to get in its way, bushes, spindly trees, even solid rock giving way before it. The thing ROARED. Ricmo smiled and gunned the engine some more. "This is awesome!" he thought to himself. Ricmo had figured out the yoke and throttle, with some help, but had zero idea what most of the gauges, buttons and levers in front of him did. He was totally making this up as he went along. From somewhere below him, through the hatch that led to the secondary driving compartment, their new ally, Max Zombie was desperately yelling instructions at him, but between the creature's thick accent and the roar of the wind and engine, Ricmo could only make