Wing and Sword: Life During Wartime
- Thread starter The Shaman
- Start date
shadowbloodmoon
First Post
Pyotr will continue to watch the area. Sorry, not much to really post for him just watching....
знаток
First Post
Vidal snickers at the sight of his wound. "Thanks for stoppin' by Ned. Yeah, I'm alright...though I don't feel so classically masculine for saying it's only a scratch." He waves to Marcel as he sees him peek around the trailer to check on him. He nods at his arm, then the mud-brick building. "So did you just come to kiss my wound or are we gonna do something about this guy? Seems I'm pretty useless as a radioman at the moment." He draws his smoke grenade and peeks around the edge of the horse trailer at the building.Nedjar said:
Spot Check: 19
The Shaman
First Post
A quiet settles over the farm as grenade blasts and bursts of automatic fire die away – even the horse, panicked by the fire a short time ago, has settled to walking agitatedly around its corral. Pyotr takes in the farmyard, the legionnaires huddled behind the horse trailer, the body of the man lying on the ground near the corral.
At the horse trailer, Nedjar looks at the smoke grenade in Vidal’s hand, then across the yard to Pyotr. “Through the door, you look left, I’ll look right, oui?” he asks the radioman as he waves his arm, beckoning Pyotr to cross the yard to the trailer. Vidal inspects the façade of the brick building – there is one window to the north of the door, three to the south, all narrow slots in the wall. The wooden door looks sturdy enough, but not unusually so. There is no gun barrel protruding from the northernmost window now, no sign of movement at all in fact.
Standing behind the tree, Normand looks up at the windows on the farmhouse, the glass reflecting the sky or the setting sun – inside lace curtains prevent a view of the interior. As he looks down, he sees Sgt. Müller moving carefully along the front of the farmhouse toward the front porch and the door, past a stand of rose bushes with a handful of fading pink blooms. When he reaches the porch, he looks back and motions to Normand to come across.
At that moment there is a peal of submachine gun fire from the back the house, shattering the stillness again like an angry snarl. Looking north, Normand sees Cpl. Sembene go down in a heap as he races toward the stone wall from behind the goat pen.
At the horse trailer, Nedjar looks at the smoke grenade in Vidal’s hand, then across the yard to Pyotr. “Through the door, you look left, I’ll look right, oui?” he asks the radioman as he waves his arm, beckoning Pyotr to cross the yard to the trailer. Vidal inspects the façade of the brick building – there is one window to the north of the door, three to the south, all narrow slots in the wall. The wooden door looks sturdy enough, but not unusually so. There is no gun barrel protruding from the northernmost window now, no sign of movement at all in fact.
Standing behind the tree, Normand looks up at the windows on the farmhouse, the glass reflecting the sky or the setting sun – inside lace curtains prevent a view of the interior. As he looks down, he sees Sgt. Müller moving carefully along the front of the farmhouse toward the front porch and the door, past a stand of rose bushes with a handful of fading pink blooms. When he reaches the porch, he looks back and motions to Normand to come across.
At that moment there is a peal of submachine gun fire from the back the house, shattering the stillness again like an angry snarl. Looking north, Normand sees Cpl. Sembene go down in a heap as he races toward the stone wall from behind the goat pen.
Attachments
Hunched over to offer a smaller target, Normand jogs over to Sgt. Müller. Seeing the question in the sergeant's eyes, Normand realizes that he couldn't see what had happened from here.
"Fell-fire from the back of the house. Sembene went down. We need to take them down quick so the doc can get to him, Sarge."
"Fell-fire from the back of the house. Sembene went down. We need to take them down quick so the doc can get to him, Sarge."
shadowbloodmoon
First Post
Pyotr quickly nods and books toward the trailer, nearly tripping over his boots as he hears the submachinegun clatter in the distance. Getting to the trailer, he looks at Nedjar and Vidal. "Going for the one in the shack over there?"
Bobitron
Explorer
Marcel reaches Pyotr just to have Nedjar wave him back. Hearing the rattle of the SMG from the farmhouse, he decides that the three men by the trailer can handle themselves and heads back toward the western edge of the barn.
ooc: Double move, next round I will run to where Amussen is.
ooc: Double move, next round I will run to where Amussen is.
The Shaman
First Post
Nedjar listens to Pyotr and Vidal, his face grim. “There could be innocents in there, too,” he replies. The légionnaire première classe looks back toward the barn, then toward the brick building again – it’s clear he’s troubled by the choices. “Smoke, then go through the door hard and fast,” he says at last. “In case.” He doesn’t sound eager about the prospects.
As Marcel comes around the barn he hears a voice, but it’s silenced by the detonation of a grenade from the direction of the farmhouse. As the echoes die away, the voice returns – it’s Asmussen: “Medic! Medic!”
At the edge of the porch, Normand looks up at the damage caused by the rifle grenade – the narrow windows on either side of the door are shattered, and the wood doorframe is cracked and broken. Müller says nothing about Cpl. Sembène, merely whispers, “Look right and high as we go through the door. Go!” The German leaps up the stairs to enter the farmhouse. Normand: Spot check as you enter the house, please.
As Marcel comes around the barn he hears a voice, but it’s silenced by the detonation of a grenade from the direction of the farmhouse. As the echoes die away, the voice returns – it’s Asmussen: “Medic! Medic!”
At the edge of the porch, Normand looks up at the damage caused by the rifle grenade – the narrow windows on either side of the door are shattered, and the wood doorframe is cracked and broken. Müller says nothing about Cpl. Sembène, merely whispers, “Look right and high as we go through the door. Go!” The German leaps up the stairs to enter the farmhouse. Normand: Spot check as you enter the house, please.
