Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward dashes to the opposite side of the trail, amazed at how quickly his experience and training from the Verdun come flooding back. He's likewise amazed how much simpler and easier it is to move through thickets when you don't have to lug a gas mask, haversack, cape, helmut, shovel, rifle and pistol through a muddy, oozing trench filled with men screaming and foul odours. One smell in particular was particularly bad on that Spring day in 1916, the one when the combination of homemade booze and fecal matter rose to...
Edward is snapped out of his waking nightmare as the Lieutenant Commander wisely hushes the mob, a mob Edward would rather prefer wasn't there at all. He double checks his Webley once again, cocks the pistol, and crouches for cover, ready to shoot if something comes crashing through.
I am too old for this, he thinks, but I must soldier on.
Emrys Hanmer |
"My God, here I was trembling, fiddling about with my revolver and we find that it's just a parachute? I nearly had a heart attack gentlemen. I think we all need to go back to the tavern and have ourselves a pint to settle our nerves!" Emrys says to the group, trying to hide his true feelings of the matter.
In Emry's mind, he had been truly scared. He didn't know what he would have done if he would've needed to actually use the revolver that he clutched in his hand
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward, upon realizing what the Lieutenant Commander has discovered, turns back toward the crowd of farmers and gestures with a crooked finger for the gaunt man to talk to him privately, away from the mob.
I don't want to make a fool of him, Edward is thinking. He saw something. Very likely it was simply this parachute. On the other hand, truth is often stranger than fiction.
Is a flattery roll required here?
cirle |
I don't--I don't know He looks wide-eyed at the flowing folds of silk in LCDR Readington-Smythe's hands. It was just a few seconds of newsreel, seen almost a year ago
The farmers are darting nervous eyes around the country-side, as if the rolling heather might be hiding regiments of fallschirmjagers.
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward pats the gaunt man on the shoulder. "No worries, mate. Just thought this might've jogged your memory. It'll be okay. If there were Krauts parachuting into Scotland they would've all been shot by now. We'll figure out what's going on."
Edward turns away so that the gaunt man cannot see his (Edward's) furrowed brow. The truth is that he is suddenly quite worried that all of the Highlands are crawling with Germans. He holsters his pistol and lights a cigarette with a nervous hand.
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward makes sure he is out of earshot of the crowd, then says, "Could this have been the parachute of Rudolf Hess? Surely that one was confiscated by Box 500* when he landed."
"Box 500" was the everyday slang for MI-5 in the UK during the war. I love the fun facts you learn from RPGs :)
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward nods and motions for the Lieutenant Commander to join them, in order to provide his input as well.
"My cousin here thinks a bit of reconnaissance might be in order when things are less crowded. How is your recon training? I cannot speak for my dear cousin here, but it's been quite the number of years since I went tromping through the moors hoping to find a trail."
cirle |
At the boarding house an somewhat pale and anxious Ms. Chase meets you at the door.
Ms. Chase: Around eight o'clock, I noticed a figure skulking at the end of the garden. I pointed him out to Mrs. MacDonell, and together we confronted this interloper. He was a thuggish type, a loutish brute; who gave some weak excuse of enjoying Mrs. MacDonell's topiary efforts. With a wicked leer he wished us good evening, and then ambled off in the direction of the loch. Mrs. MacDonell tells me that this villain was one Sean MacAllan; one of the 'more social-able' members of a knavish clan that lives around the loch. Mrs. MacDonell is sure that he meant no good, but what his specific mission here tonight was I can make no guess; but I'm sure trouble will follow.
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward turns to the Lieutenant Commander: "I believe this answers your question, sir. It looks like we need to change into some camouflage clothing."
To Emyrs: "Are you agreeable to a little night patrol, cousin?"
To Ms. Chase: "Your service is incomparable, madam. Allow us to buy your dinner, and if you wish to come along, you are welcome, of course."
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward does the same, donning dark trousers, work boots, an old flannel suit and black hat. He double checks his revolver, and gets an extra box of shells just in case.
He then goes downstairs and takes up Miss Chase on the offer of coffee.
He begins to think about his nerves as he sips very hot coffee:
Is this wise? You know how your nerves are, old fellow. And yet... And yet I feel tired and drowsy. Coffee may perk me up.
Edward R. Carter, III |
Edward follows the LCDR vigilantly. The fog is making goose pimples break out on the old man's arms. The night air is getting down into his chest, and it's all he can do to hold back a fit of coughing. The farther they hike, the more labored his breathing becomes, not as much from exertion as from whatever has been causing his cough.
Edward continually darts his eyes back and forth, hoping to make out something in the awful darkness, but knowining it's hopeless.
Edward doesn't have skill points in Outdoorsman or Piloting. What happens in this case? Do you want me to roll a d6 for him anyway?
Emrys Hanmer |
Emrys begins to look about, trying to decipher if anything looks odd or out of place. Emrys finds it difficult to look about as it is dark and his old eyes aren't what they used to be.
As he looks, he can feel the tension of the night grow on him, like a leech growing larger from its host.
Edward R. Carter, III |
The owl startles Edward. He jumps and draws his pistol. He flips the cylinder open out of habit to ensure its loaded before realizing the folly of that action. He gently closes the cylinder shut, hoping he's not making too much noise.
Would it make sense to use a "sense trouble" skill point or two right here? Edward has 4 points in that skill. He also has 4 points each in "shadowing" and "stealth", and 7 points in "weapons".
cirle |
As he looks, he can feel the tension of the night grow on him, like a leech growing larger from its host.
That's a neat turn of phrase. Carter, if there's a immediate threat, that you might detect seconds before it is in your face, I will call for a test of Sense Trouble.
The crumbling barn looms up before you.
cirle |
Hmmm. You kinda slighted yourself on Investigative Abilities. You're a man of action! Burn two points from your Sense Trouble pool.
LCDR Readington-Smythe cannot shake the sense that there is something within the musty interior of the decaying barn. He stalks around the barn's interior, and in one corner, he stumbles over something loosely buried in the detritus that covers the barn floor.
Looking down he sees the glint of metal through the dirt and moldy straw.