Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
The
VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX
is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Wing and Sword: Story Hour
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 2310733" data-attributes="member: 26473"><p><strong>Chapter 2</strong></p><p></p><p>The <em>moudjahiddine</em> arrive at the ravine as the stars are disappearing into the blue haze that signal the sunrise. A narrow passage worn by the infrequent but violent rains that sweep across the Saharan Tell, it is filled with scattered acacia brush, roots reaching deep in the parched soil for the scarce moisture collected by the defile. Ahmed settles the men in after setting up an observation post and ordering one of his sergeants to rotate the lookouts, then joins Saleh under an knob of rock near the mouth of the gap.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“I’ll take two men and set off at once,”</span> Saleh begins as Ahmed sits beside him. The lieutenant raises a hand.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Give them a few hours rest,”</span> replies Ahmed. He looks out of the mouth of the slot canyon across the desert, pensive. <span style="color: sienna">“Do you think it’s paras?”</span> he says quietly.</p><p></p><p>Saleh nods. <span style="color: sienna">“ Four Dakotas. Maybe a hundred paras.”</span> the sergeant replies. <span style="color: sienna">“Two platoons? Or an under-strength company.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Do you supposed they’re looking for us?”</span> Ahmed asks.</p><p></p><p>Saleh shrugs. <span style="color: sienna">“Can that fat bastard Rashid keep his mouth shut?”</span> he answers, the venom clear in his voice.</p><p></p><p>Ahmed looks darkly at the sergeant. <span style="color: sienna">“Not in front of the men. Not ever.”</span> His voice is low. <span style="color: sienna">“We’re an army, Saleh, and we will act like it, with discipline and respect for rank.”</span> Saleh looks away. <span style="color: sienna">“Do you understand?”</span> Ahmed says softly.</p><p></p><p>Saleh says nothing, but glances toward Ahmed and sighs. <span style="color: sienna">“Can you leave in three hours?”</span> Ahmed continues, the indiscretion passed. The sergeant doesn’t move, just stares across the lightening plain as he replies. <span style="color: sienna">“Two hours. If they’re following us, they’ll be here by then. If they’re moving west toward Boussemghoun, or south, I don’t want them to get too far ahead.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ahmed reaches out, squeezes Saleh’s shoulder. <span style="color: sienna">“Get some rest.”</span> He glances at the sun. <span style="color: sienna">“I’ll get you in two hours.”</span> The sergeant salutes and moves up the ravine toward his platoon.</p><p></p><p>Ahmed watches as Saleh talks with his section leaders then settles back against the rocky edge of the ravine, using his pack as a cushion. The air is cool in the gap, shaded from the rising sun, and the lieutenant takes a little water from his canteen. <em>Rashid</em>.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"> - / - </p><p></p><p>The battalion chief sat across from Ahmed, dressed in leopard fatigues, the red, white, and green patch of the ALN on his shoulder, his stars of rank embroidered on his epaulets. The appearance was meant to be inspiring, but the snug fit of the uniform on Rashid’s plump body rendered the look somewhat comical, an effect heightened by his imperious manner.</p><p></p><p>Rashid had been a lieutenant of <em>tirailleurs</em> in Indochina where he served with modest distinction as a platoon leader. Now his family connections and his military service landed him in charge of a <em>failek</em>, at least on paper: the battalion had yet to reach full-strength, and of the men counted as part of the <em>failek</em> over half were <em>moussebiline</em>, part-time guerillas with rudimentary training and indoctrination, not regular <em>moudjahiddine</em>. This didn’t stop Rashid from acting the part of the great commander, Ahmed noted to himself.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“You’ll need to reach El Abiodh in two days,”</span> Rashid said, studying a map hanging from the wall of the cellar that served as his command post. <span style="color: sienna">“Aside from a small number of <em>gendarmerie</em> and <em>soldats du train</em>, you will encounter little resistance.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“How current is that intelligence, sir?”</span> Ahmed asked, earning a perturbed glance from the rotund officer. No point in caution now. <span style="color: sienna">“And how small is that number of troops?”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Small enough that your <em>katiba</em> can handle the mission, <em>dhabet el-aouel</em>,”</span> Rashid replied evenly, the thick dark mustache under his nose twitching. <span style="color: sienna">“I’m sending two men from the village with you – they will help you to plan your action. Ambush the <em>gendarmes</em> if possible, or drive them off, then kill the <em>caid</em> and the other MNA members in the village, along with any who resist. Is this understood?”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Yes, sir,”</span> Ahmed replied. He remained seated on the small chair. Rashid exhaled noisily. <span style="color: sienna">“Is there something else?”</span> he asked impatiently.</p><p></p><p>Ahmed sat quietly for a moment. <span style="color: sienna">“Sir, the <em>caid</em> stands judged for his crimes, but are we to forego re-education for the other MNA members? Maoist doctrine states...”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“The death of the other party members will serve as an example to the rest of the villagers in the area,”</span> Rashid interrupts. <span style="color: sienna">“And you will bring back ten recruits as well. No less.”</span> He stares at Ahmed, his eyes cold. <span style="color: sienna">“You have your orders, lieutenant.”</span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"> - / - </p><p></p><p>Ahmed caps the canteen and returns it to its holster on his U.S. Army issue web belt. He moves up the ravine, checking in with his other platoon leaders before finally taking a break, nibbling some couscous from a tin container in his pack. <em>Paras</em>.</p><p></p><p>An hour passes, then another. Ahmed checks in with his observation post, but no sign of activity is reported. Making his way carefully down the ravine again, he wakes Saleh. The <em>moudjahid</em> comes awake instantly, a trait that saved him several times in Tonkin. He smiles at Ahmed, gathers up his machine pistol and rucksack, and wakes the two men who will accompany him. Ahmed walks with the trio past the sleeping forms of the <em>moudjahiddine</em> to the mouth of the ravine where a sentry crouches. <span style="color: sienna">“Use caution, sergeant,”</span> Ahmed instructs Saleh. <span style="color: sienna">“This patrol is no good to us is you don’t report back. Watch for aircraft.”</span></p><p></p><p>Saleh grins wolfishly. <span style="color: sienna">“Yes, sir.”</span> He salutes then with a tilt of his head the three scouts set off. Ahmed’s face does not betray the knot in his stomach to the young sentry standing next to him.</p><p></p><p>Ahmed moves back into the ravine and after briefing another sergeant, he settles down on the floor of the ravine, his head resting on his pack. Sleep doesn’t come easily. He sees the faces of his men, of grinning Saleh, of fat Rashid. <em>Must we kill Muslims?</em> he thinks to himself. <em>Is this how we win our freedom?</em>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Shaman, post: 2310733, member: 26473"] [b]Chapter 2[/b] The [i]moudjahiddine[/i] arrive at the ravine as the stars are disappearing into the blue haze that signal the sunrise. A narrow passage worn by the infrequent but violent rains that sweep across the Saharan Tell, it is filled with scattered acacia brush, roots reaching deep in the parched soil for the scarce moisture collected by the defile. Ahmed settles the men in after setting up an observation post and ordering one of his sergeants to rotate the lookouts, then joins Saleh under an knob of rock near the mouth of the gap. [color=sienna]“I’ll take two men and set off at once,”[/color] Saleh begins as Ahmed sits beside him. The lieutenant raises a hand. [color=sienna]“Give them a few hours rest,”[/color] replies Ahmed. He looks out of the mouth of the slot canyon across the desert, pensive. [color=sienna]“Do you think it’s paras?”[/color] he says quietly. Saleh nods. [color=sienna]“ Four Dakotas. Maybe a hundred paras.”[/color] the sergeant replies. [color=sienna]“Two platoons? Or an under-strength company.”[/color] [color=sienna]“Do you supposed they’re looking for us?”[/color] Ahmed asks. Saleh shrugs. [color=sienna]“Can that fat bastard Rashid keep his mouth shut?”[/color] he answers, the venom clear in his voice. Ahmed looks darkly at the sergeant. [color=sienna]“Not in front of the men. Not ever.”[/color] His voice is low. [color=sienna]“We’re an army, Saleh, and we will act like it, with discipline and respect for rank.”[/color] Saleh looks away. [color=sienna]“Do you understand?”[/color] Ahmed says softly. Saleh says nothing, but glances toward Ahmed and sighs. [color=sienna]“Can you leave in three hours?”[/color] Ahmed continues, the indiscretion passed. The sergeant doesn’t move, just stares across the lightening plain as he replies. [color=sienna]“Two hours. If they’re following us, they’ll be here by then. If they’re moving west toward Boussemghoun, or south, I don’t want them to get too far ahead.”[/color] Ahmed reaches out, squeezes Saleh’s shoulder. [color=sienna]“Get some rest.”[/color] He glances at the sun. [color=sienna]“I’ll get you in two hours.”[/color] The sergeant salutes and moves up the ravine toward his platoon. Ahmed watches as Saleh talks with his section leaders then settles back against the rocky edge of the ravine, using his pack as a cushion. The air is cool in the gap, shaded from the rising sun, and the lieutenant takes a little water from his canteen. [i]Rashid[/i]. [center] - / - [/center] The battalion chief sat across from Ahmed, dressed in leopard fatigues, the red, white, and green patch of the ALN on his shoulder, his stars of rank embroidered on his epaulets. The appearance was meant to be inspiring, but the snug fit of the uniform on Rashid’s plump body rendered the look somewhat comical, an effect heightened by his imperious manner. Rashid had been a lieutenant of [i]tirailleurs[/i] in Indochina where he served with modest distinction as a platoon leader. Now his family connections and his military service landed him in charge of a [i]failek[/i], at least on paper: the battalion had yet to reach full-strength, and of the men counted as part of the [i]failek[/i] over half were [i]moussebiline[/i], part-time guerillas with rudimentary training and indoctrination, not regular [i]moudjahiddine[/i]. This didn’t stop Rashid from acting the part of the great commander, Ahmed noted to himself. [color=sienna]“You’ll need to reach El Abiodh in two days,”[/color] Rashid said, studying a map hanging from the wall of the cellar that served as his command post. [color=sienna]“Aside from a small number of [i]gendarmerie[/i] and [i]soldats du train[/i], you will encounter little resistance.”[/color] [color=sienna]“How current is that intelligence, sir?”[/color] Ahmed asked, earning a perturbed glance from the rotund officer. No point in caution now. [color=sienna]“And how small is that number of troops?”[/color] [color=sienna]“Small enough that your [i]katiba[/i] can handle the mission, [i]dhabet el-aouel[/i],”[/color] Rashid replied evenly, the thick dark mustache under his nose twitching. [color=sienna]“I’m sending two men from the village with you – they will help you to plan your action. Ambush the [i]gendarmes[/i] if possible, or drive them off, then kill the [i]caid[/i] and the other MNA members in the village, along with any who resist. Is this understood?”[/color] [color=sienna]“Yes, sir,”[/color] Ahmed replied. He remained seated on the small chair. Rashid exhaled noisily. [color=sienna]“Is there something else?”[/color] he asked impatiently. Ahmed sat quietly for a moment. [color=sienna]“Sir, the [i]caid[/i] stands judged for his crimes, but are we to forego re-education for the other MNA members? Maoist doctrine states...”[/color] [color=sienna]“The death of the other party members will serve as an example to the rest of the villagers in the area,”[/color] Rashid interrupts. [color=sienna]“And you will bring back ten recruits as well. No less.”[/color] He stares at Ahmed, his eyes cold. [color=sienna]“You have your orders, lieutenant.”[/color] [center] - / - [/center] Ahmed caps the canteen and returns it to its holster on his U.S. Army issue web belt. He moves up the ravine, checking in with his other platoon leaders before finally taking a break, nibbling some couscous from a tin container in his pack. [i]Paras[/i]. An hour passes, then another. Ahmed checks in with his observation post, but no sign of activity is reported. Making his way carefully down the ravine again, he wakes Saleh. The [i]moudjahid[/i] comes awake instantly, a trait that saved him several times in Tonkin. He smiles at Ahmed, gathers up his machine pistol and rucksack, and wakes the two men who will accompany him. Ahmed walks with the trio past the sleeping forms of the [i]moudjahiddine[/i] to the mouth of the ravine where a sentry crouches. [color=sienna]“Use caution, sergeant,”[/color] Ahmed instructs Saleh. [color=sienna]“This patrol is no good to us is you don’t report back. Watch for aircraft.”[/color] Saleh grins wolfishly. [color=sienna]“Yes, sir.”[/color] He salutes then with a tilt of his head the three scouts set off. Ahmed’s face does not betray the knot in his stomach to the young sentry standing next to him. Ahmed moves back into the ravine and after briefing another sergeant, he settles down on the floor of the ravine, his head resting on his pack. Sleep doesn’t come easily. He sees the faces of his men, of grinning Saleh, of fat Rashid. [i]Must we kill Muslims?[/i] he thinks to himself. [i]Is this how we win our freedom?[/i]. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Wing and Sword: Story Hour
Top