Wing and Sword: Chat et Souris (Prologue)

[The Shaman]

Timekeeping: end of the second round.

As Dinter prepares to rise, he looks back to where he and Martinez had been just a moment ago, where the body of the caporal lies now still on the sand. “Scheisse!” he exclaims through clenched teeth. Prone on the ground, he aims his rifle and fires.

“Sgt. Duval! Martinez is down! Can I go to him?” asks Marcel.

“Go!” Duval orders. “Covering fire!” Again the NCOs’ submachine guns clatter, and two more fellaghas die as the bullets slice through the bushes. As Duval exchanges magazines, two of the insurgents spring up from where they lay in the sparse cover and flee toward the edge of the oued.

As the guns roar, Marcel rises from among the rocks and advances toward where Martinez lies motionless. Normand also forsakes the cover of the rocks to the south to move into a better position to fire.

I updated the map to show the current positions at the end of round 3.
Pyotr’s shot precedes the action above – make the roll and I’ll add the narrative.
Normand spends this round advancing – range penalty next round drops to -6.
Vidal has a shot at the fleeing fellaghas on his count if he wants to take it – the fells have no concealment or bonuses to Defense this time.
Marcel can get as far as Dinter’s position shown on the map as 2 in this round – he can reach Martinez on his count in the fourth round.

 

[Barak]

Sighting on the fells, Normand sees that he did in fact get closer.

But, of course, that means they are also closer to -me-, eh? And there's @#$-all for cover here. Merde.

Looking around, he does see some bushes in the distance, and they also happen to be closer to the enemy position.

Good. I get there, I get some cover, and we have them cornered-in from three positions instead of two. Seems good to me. I hope Duval will agree.

And so instead of trying another shot at the fells, he stands once more and starts to run towards the bushes.

 

[знаток]

Rolled damage

Without time to correct or deliberate further, Vidal fires one more round at the fleeing men.

Well I'll be...

Well I'll be...

Attack: 18
Damage: 15

 

[The Shaman]

Vidal see the bullet stike the fleeing fell...

Damage?

 

[shadowbloodmoon]

Pyotr

That one. Pyotr's vision was again filled the sight of another fell awaiting another round from his rifle. I have to make this one count. The rounds flying around him were starting to find their marks, this had to end fast. Barely registering Normand's quick speech, Pyotr squeezed the trigger again. He then waited to see the effects before searching for another target.


Shooting with +0 (+2 dex, +2 dead aim, -4 range)
To Hit: 17
Damage if Hits: 8

 

[The Shaman]

The crouching fellagha in Pyotr’s sights is knocked back by the 7.5mm bullet hitting him just below the armpit. Grimacing, he rises, one hand clutching at the wound, and follows his last remaining compatriot as they run through the bushes toward the shelter of the oued.

They don’t make it.

Vidal and Berg fire at the fleeing fells, and both of the insurgents stagger, fall, and are still.

A quiet settles over the battlefield, broken only by the drone of the approaching aircraft. Eight fellaghas lie on the sand – a ninth, the first of Pyotr’s victims, is crawling slowly away.

Timekeeping: end of third round.

Lavareaux breaks the silence. “Gustav, let’s go get Martinez,” he says to Berg, and the two legionnaires rise from among the rocks and advance toward their stricken comrade. Dinter gets up as well and follows Marcel to the caporal’s side, covering their advance as he goes.

Watching the legionnaires advance, submachine gun stock still pressed tightly against his shoulder, eyes trained on the far end of the gully, Duval says, “Radio, tell that pilot that we’ve engaged a squad of fellaghas. Tell him, find out where the rest of the unit is.” The plane is clearly visible now, an olive-green L-18 with the tricolor roundel visible on the underside of its wings. It will be overhead in a matter of seconds.

Martinez’s skin is ashy white as Marcel kneels to examine him. The wounded man’s carotid pulse is fast and thready, but his pupils react to light as Marcel pulls back his eyelids and shades Martinez’s face with his hand and he stirs slightly as the medic rubs his sternum with his knuckles.

Among the rocks to the south, Sgt. Neumann watches as Normand stands up and takes off across the desert toward the fells. “Gott verdammt alles Helden!” he mutters, then calls to Normand, “Légionnaire Mador, halt!” The German then looks at Pyotr and nods appreciatively. “Fine shooting, Kerenin. Fine shooting,” he says, then, lowering his voice to a whisper, continues, “Check Gonzalez’s gun. See if he fired it.” At that the German sergent gets up, and moves forward to join Normand.

 

[Bobitron]

Martinez’s skin is ashy white as Marcel kneels to examine him. The wounded man’s carotid pulse is fast and thready, but his pupils react to light as Marcel pulls back his eyelids and shades Martinez’s face with his hand and he stirs slightly as the medic rubs his sternum with his knuckles.

Marcel dives into the sand at the side of the bleeding soldier, reaching out and feeling for a pulse. "Hold on, Martinez. We're going to get you out of here OK." He checks him for reaction to light and stimulation. "You've sure got more guts than brains, Martinez.", Marcel says with a big grin, trying to brighten the man's mood. Pulling out his meager supplies, he starts to work on the fallen légionnaire, struggling to ignore the gunfire over his head.

"Martinez, you should have seen Pyotr! He had a couple great shots. The fells were so far away!" Marcel lights a Gauloise and puts it loosely between Martinez's lips, trying to distract him form the pain.

OOC: Treat injury check to stabilize 28 (19+9) http://krisinchico.brinkster.net/searchroll.asp?username=Marcel#148418 Finally! I used this roller for another character a couple days ago, and I rolled a one and a two. Maybe that's finally over."

 

[Barak]

“Légionnaire Mador, halt!”

Aww geez. Now I'm all out in the open.

Nervously, Normand does stop and drops to one knee once more, his eyes and rifle not leaving the fells' position as he waits for the sergeant to catch up to him.

I bet he's going to rip me a new one for leaving position, even though our position was complete crap. Damn germans.

 

[shadowbloodmoon]

Pyotr

When he saw the last of the fells crawl away, Pyotr sighed. After silently berating himself for not making those shots a kill, Pyotr nodded to Sergeant Neumann, taking his rifle from his shoulder. "Yes, sergeant." He decided to not make any remark about his compliment. Though Pyotr knew his shots were pretty well accomplished, they weren't good enough for him. Moving over to Gonzalez, he holds out his hands. "Hey Gonzalez, let me see your rifle."

Pyotr will move over to where Gonzalez is and attempt to take his rifle to see if it was fired. If Gonzalez let's him have it, he'll open the bolt and check the chamber. If not, Pyotr will wait to see what Gonzalez does.

 

[знаток]

“Radio, tell that pilot that we’ve engaged a squad of fellaghas. Tell him, find out where the rest of the unit is.”

"I got it Sergeant."
Vidal grabs the handset. "Juliet 4, this is Trident! We have a visual on your AC! We are in position at the southern edge of the oued near the gully with V-panel! Made contact with one fellagha squad at current location...request that you attempt to locate remaining fell strength, most likely within the oued! Over!" Recounting his shots, he pulls an MAS 36 magazine from the pouch and begins reloading the rifle with the handset propped on his shoulder.