Inspired by Daniel's determination, Bobby joins in this round :
= 9, a Raise!
+2 to our side's Battle Roll!
1 Wound.
Aleksei is calm and stoic as he continues to send bullets with names on them into each enemy soldier that comes into view, the sheer number of them lost on him, even as his ammunition starts to be a concern.
Every one of them becomes a faceless target, nothing more than a blur as he methodically kills each and every one of them...
|
AFter what seems forever, the front breaks as the Germans rout! The enemy runs for their lives, scattering behind their lines. The Brits sound cries of exhilaration and victory!
"Brilliant job, lads! Bloody brilliant!" Major Ral admonishes everyone on a job well done. "Now then," he turns to the heroes. "Proceed down that way," he waves a hand, "And tell the leftenant who you are. He'll fill you in."
Following his directions, you proceed until you find the lieutenant, a tall gentleman with a full mustache. When you introduce yourselves, he smiles and returns your salute. "Second lieutenant John Tolkien. You're the lads from intelligence, I take it?"
It takes some time for Aleksei to realize the fight is over, sending ammunition into the back of retreating troops. Once they are out of sight and he is brought into the silence, he lights a cigar and takes a deep puff. He nods at the Major and then when they reach the 2LT, he does the same. "We are. What do you have for us?"
Once the fight has died down, Jacques spends as much time as they can spare treating the wounded, and making sure to check over everybody in the party.
"Oui, sir," Jacques says to the LT, giving him a sharp look up and down. Unbidden, that old bit of military humor floats through his head--the difference between a PFC and a 2LT is one promotion.
|
Afterwards Dan nods his head, satisfied in a job well done. He tops off his ammunition, and sits a spell, sipping from his flask, relishing the feeling of hot lead currently nod flying in his direction.
After a sufficient time he humps over to the indicated officer and salutes. "Aye. We are at that. But we've a problem: Our medic still ain't recovered from our last mission. If what we're doin' is as important as they say it is, we should take some R&R and let our healer get healed up.
I mean, we just took over a castle and won a battle, I think that entitles us to a fulling functioning medic, eh? Sir."
"Um, sir? With respect, an hour isn't going to make any difference to our medic, who has a couple of bullet holes in him. It would take the better part of a week before he even *might* be better."
|
|
Dan pockets the half-empty bottle of German booze that survived the firefight, wondering if it tastes as bad as the name is hard to pronounce.
We scavenges the field until he comes across a pair of Hun officers that died with honor leading their troops. They were dumb, out in front like that, but you can't doubt their honor.
He turns the bodies over until he comes up with their Luger P08s and the accompanying ammunition. He flips their slides a bit, brushes the dirt off, and rubs the blood of their former owners off. Then, upon reflection, he straight up takes the gun belts off the bodies and crosses them both over his own hip.
That done, he returns to the group, wondering what the next more is.
|
|
"Hmmmm. Something must be done," Tolkien says, offering no useful solution. [b]"I hope that you won't believe me barmy, but I daresay that these things are... well, they aren't human. On some dark nights, they can be seen moving among the corpses—and terrible sounds are heard. In the morning, the bodies are gone or picked clean to gnawed bones."
Aleksei nods. "These creatures are abomination to us. Must be stopped. Simple as that." He takes a long puff of his cigar, watching this Tolkien person.
"I'd 'ate to 'old us up," Jacques says, then winces. It looks as though the stress of fighting and sorting through the wounded opened his side back up, and he curses, then apologizes to the LT and hurriedly sits down to redo his bandages. "Ze longer we wait, ze more zey eat. Might be ze more of zem zere are." He winces further, cranking down bandages. "All I 'ave to do is stay alive to patch you up," he says, with a grim smile. "It's not like ze bullet holes are in my 'ands."
|
|
"They come out after dark. They feed on the corpses of the dead and dying. They should be along any moment."
True to his words, it is barely an hour before darkness falls and strange sounds begin to drift towards you from No-Man's Land. Wet crunches and occasional inhuman grunts drift back to you. Whatever they are, they have arrived.
"Sounds like they are already here." Aleksei brings his weapon to his shoulder and takes aim into the field. "Let them come."
Jacques sighs, cracking his neck and snapping open the medical bag on his hip. "Stand fast," he says, before pushing up his glasses and shouldering his own rifle.
Some of you may notice that for the first time since you've known him, Bobby pulls out two pistols, one in each hand.
|
|
In the moonlight, across the vast expanse of No Man's Land, you spot a humanoid figure with vaguely canine features and clawed hands. It stands about six feet in height and looks like a human stripped of its skin with facial features that resemble as a cross between a human and a wolf or dog. Then, four more appear. They sniff the air as if searching for something, then they turn towards you...
The creatures are 10 yards away and heading in your direction. They are not clumped together, such that targeting more than two with a grenade would be difficult.
|
|
During the break, Dan had been chatting with some fellow Americans, just smoking cigarettes and sharing stories from back home. At one point Dan pulled out his German P08 pistols and started showing them off. One man, an American officer, was so impressed that he asked if Dan would like to trade, in exchange for a couple surplus American pistols that his unit didn't need anymore, due to recent casualties.
Dan tried out the M1911s and found them to his liking. They both exchanged the weapons and promised to look each other up if they were ever in each other hometowns after the war.
*************************
As the wolf-dog-men comes charging at the lines, Dan is ready. He levels a pistol in each hand at the onrushing horde and starts firing hot lead!
= 20
= 16
Holding his guns akimbo, Dan pulls the triggers as fast as he can, a fusillade of lead heading for the oncoming beasts!
Aleksei squeezes of a round in the direction of one of the creatures.
Bobby, after watching Daniel very carefully make his shots to make sure he does it right ;), follows suit :
= 6, a Success
= 11 damage
And shoots with his other hand :
= 5, a Success
= 14 damage
|
|
Was waiting for Jacques to open fire, but...
Wow... That's some sharp shooting there, guys. Even with the penalties for low-lighting that I forgot about. Okay, four of the creatures drop under the fusillade of bullets, however, two of them manage to get within hand to hand range.
One attacks Bobby, but the infantryman easily evades the attack.
The other and largest of the group attacks Jacques, ripping into the soft, yielding flesh.
INITIATIVE
Aleksei = JC
Daniel = 8D
Mook = 6D
Bobby = 4D
Wild Card = 2D
Bobby, seeing Jacques fall, and knowing there's nothing he can do for him, shouts "Medic!" and shoots point-blank at the creature before him :
= 7
IF that beats his Parry, it does
damage
And he shoots with his left hand :
= 8
IF that beats his Parry, it does
= 11 damage
= 13 total damage
Aleksei slings his rifle, reaches in and grabs Jacques out of the way, dragging him to safety from the attacking creatures. "Dammit Frenchman, you are not sponge!"
|
|
Sharpshooter's eyes go wide in fear and concern as the gentle and likable French medic goes down in a pile of flailing claws and undead hate.
"DIE UNDEAD SPAWN! FALL before my righteous FIRE as you deserve to!" he yells as he pours bullet after bullet into the monstrosity that attacked Jacques, the guns kicking in both fists as fast as his thick, strong fingers can fire them.
= 14
= 22
|
|
[dice= "Wild Die?" said Bobby, slowly lowering himself on one knee and reaching inside his freshly cleaned jacket.]d6[/dice] = 10
[dice= "We've been together for a while now, and everyone knows how I feel about ya. Everyone. I can't stop talking about you. So, would you...." he stammers, carefully bringing out the small box that held what his two months salary could afford....]d6[/dice]
|
|
Okay, the creature that attacked Jacques is assailed by gunfire and goes down with a loud cry not unlike that of a dog that is being strangled. The remaining creature, seeing that its prey is not going to be submissive, turns to flee.
You guys can take free attacks as it flees the scene. Don't worry about initiative, as it is running away.
Bobby shouts "That's right, me matey, RUN away like the coward that you are!" and proceeds to shoot at it :
= 4, a Success
= 12 points
If *that* isn't enough to bring it down, he shoots with his left hand :
= 12, probably a Raise
= 5 or 6, probably not thru his Toughness
Seeing that Bobby has the clean up well in hand, Aleksei looks over Jacques. "Come on, man. You still have to tell me how is made 'coques au vin'." He puts up his hands in frustration as his friend just lies there. "Medic!"
With the immediate threat over, Bobby rushes over and tries to stabilize Jacques :
But nothing he does seems to help.
|
|
[dice= "Wild die?" Bobby said, remembering all the cold nights they spent together under hot sheets]d6+1[/dice]
Dan sends some hot lead chasing after the fleeing beast, trying to stop it now before it assaulted others, later.
"How's he doing?" Dan asked, loading in fresh clips and watching toward the front, wondering if more would come.
Aleksei shakes his head, taking a deep puff of his cigar. "Not well. Does not our patron have medic in his unit?"
|
|
Between Bobby and Daniel, your shots fell the last of the creatures. An uneasy quiet falls over the battlefield. A medic from Tolkien's unit rushes to Jacques' side, doing what he can to staunch the flow of blood.
[GM Fiat]The medic manages to stop the bleeding and bandage Jacques. "He'll live, but he won't be seeing some action for quite some time."
Lt. Tolkien is very pleased with your results. "A Promise is a promise. Get yourselves some fresh coffee and something to eat. I'll make the arrangements to get you a transport to Paris. You've earned your week off."
"Sir, with all due respect, without our medic we will be at a considerable disadvantage in the field. Can you assign one of your medics to our team?"
|
|
London, England
Here in London, the war seems far distant. Life goes on largely as usual. Despite the occasional airship raid, the scene is one of serenity, as opposed to the chaos of the battlefield. You arrive at the station along with a load of wounded men from the Front. You are met at the station by a man seeking persons of your description. He hands you a telegram that reads...
Gentlemen STOP
This is [insert name] STOP I am assigning him to join your unit to replace your wounded medic STOP Please bring him up to speed and welcome him STOP Enjoy your week of leave STOP
Yours Doyle STOP
"We fight bad things and then get holiday? I think I like this new unit." He looks at the others, his ever present cigar smoldering. "What is to do in London for a week?"
Aleksei nods. "Let us find English girls and maybe we have diplomatic foreign relations." He gives Morgan a knowing look and pats him on the back, heading into the city with his friends to find alcohol and women. Not necessarily in that order.
-Posted with Wayfinder
