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Wing and Sword: Chat et Souris (Prologue)
- Thread starter The Shaman
- Start date
The Shaman
First Post
As Duval speaks on the radio, the rest of the legionnaires fall out to take a pull at a canteen, adjust a web belt, roll up smock sleeves, light a cigarette. Pvt. Dinter sits down on a pile of rocks and removes a boot to extract a pebble and inspect his foot. Apparently satisfied there’s nothing more lurking under his arch, he attempts to replace his boot when the rocks on which he’s resting give way as his weight shifts, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. As the other legionnaires laugh and Berg call his friend any number of names in German, Marcel sees something moving near the sprawled Dinter’s bare arm and hand – a large yellow scorpion.
Initiative check for Marcel, who is standing about fifteen feet from Dinter.
Initiative check for Marcel, who is standing about fifteen feet from Dinter.
Bobitron
Explorer
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Marcel freezes when he spots the scorpion crawling near Dinter's exposed skin.
"Don't move, Dinter!" The words come out a low hiss, barely audible over the laughter. His thoughts frantically fly to the medkit he worked with earlier. I don't remember anything like antivenom in there.
знаток
First Post
Vidal is instantly alarmed by Marcel's warning, but doesn't know what to make of it. He half-ducks and takes a quick look around the area through which they were marching, then realizes it must be some natural local threat. He notices that it's still especially difficult to take his hand off the trigger of his newfound 36 as he looks to see if anyone else might soon encounter something similar to Dinter's dilemma.
The Shaman
First Post
The scorpion’s stinger lashes forward, missing the legionnaire’s arm. Alerted by Marcel, Dinter sees the scorpion and with a yelp jumps to his feet, then swings his rifle butt at the creature, striking a rock instead. The scorpion, claws extended and tail raised, scuttles under the disturbed stones, out of sight. “Gott in Himmel!” exclaims the German, his face pale.
The laughter dies away as Dinter leaps to his feat, then returns but with a nervous quality. Martinez, the Moroccan, says quietly, “You were lucky, Dinter. One of those scorpions killed a friend of my father’s years ago.”
Dinter shakes his head. “Scheisse,” he says with feeling. “Thanks, Marcel.”
Berg nods at his friend. “Watch where you put your fat arse, Willi. I don’t think Marcel wants to treat THAT wound, ja?” he says with a grin
Duval notices the commotion, and says, “Check the ground before you sit down, especially around rock and dunes. There’s a snake you want to watch out for as well as those bugs.”
Martinez nods. “Vipers. Very dangerous. They spend the day just under the surface of the sand.” Unconsciously, almost as one man, the legionnaires look around at the ground beneath their feet.
The radio handset speaks. “Hourglass 1 this is Trident 1, do you copy?”
The jumpmaster takes the handset back from Vidal. “Hourglass 1, go ahead.”
“Hourglass 1, start moving toward the junction at 22 Echo 12. Units will rendezvous with you at that location. Good luck.”
Duval acknowledges and signs off. “We’re heading for the road junction south of El Abdioh, to meet up with the transport company. Move out.”
The legionnaires resume their march eastward. Another hour passes, then another, the sun crawling higher and higher in the sky. The legionnaires notice a gap in the desert floor ahead of them and Duval orders the men to stop and kneel down – motioning to Marcel and Vidal to say put, he moves to the front of the line. “Kerenin, Mador,” he says, pointing ahead, “that’s the Oued Baraba in front of us. Scout ahead. Stay low and be quiet. Signal if it’s clear.”
Move Silently, Hide, and Spot checks from Pyotr and Normand, please.
The laughter dies away as Dinter leaps to his feat, then returns but with a nervous quality. Martinez, the Moroccan, says quietly, “You were lucky, Dinter. One of those scorpions killed a friend of my father’s years ago.”
Dinter shakes his head. “Scheisse,” he says with feeling. “Thanks, Marcel.”
Berg nods at his friend. “Watch where you put your fat arse, Willi. I don’t think Marcel wants to treat THAT wound, ja?” he says with a grin
Duval notices the commotion, and says, “Check the ground before you sit down, especially around rock and dunes. There’s a snake you want to watch out for as well as those bugs.”
Martinez nods. “Vipers. Very dangerous. They spend the day just under the surface of the sand.” Unconsciously, almost as one man, the legionnaires look around at the ground beneath their feet.
The radio handset speaks. “Hourglass 1 this is Trident 1, do you copy?”
The jumpmaster takes the handset back from Vidal. “Hourglass 1, go ahead.”
“Hourglass 1, start moving toward the junction at 22 Echo 12. Units will rendezvous with you at that location. Good luck.”
Duval acknowledges and signs off. “We’re heading for the road junction south of El Abdioh, to meet up with the transport company. Move out.”
The legionnaires resume their march eastward. Another hour passes, then another, the sun crawling higher and higher in the sky. The legionnaires notice a gap in the desert floor ahead of them and Duval orders the men to stop and kneel down – motioning to Marcel and Vidal to say put, he moves to the front of the line. “Kerenin, Mador,” he says, pointing ahead, “that’s the Oued Baraba in front of us. Scout ahead. Stay low and be quiet. Signal if it’s clear.”
Move Silently, Hide, and Spot checks from Pyotr and Normand, please.
знаток
First Post
Vidal is a little irked at the lack of noise discipline exercised by Dinter during the scorpion incident, but decides to let it fly this one time, praying that Dinter is now a little more conscious about the subject himself.
As the sun beats down on them, burning his exposed skin and wearing away at his alertness, he tries distracting himself by singing the legionnaire song in his head as they march. When the sergent-chef orders them to halt, he's relieved to get a quick break - from both the song and the march. He searches the ground for signs of wildlife, wondering exactly what a viper resting under the sand would look like on the surface. He takes a single knee and begins stretching his legs and back, not wanting to get too relaxed.
As the sun beats down on them, burning his exposed skin and wearing away at his alertness, he tries distracting himself by singing the legionnaire song in his head as they march. When the sergent-chef orders them to halt, he's relieved to get a quick break - from both the song and the march. He searches the ground for signs of wildlife, wondering exactly what a viper resting under the sand would look like on the surface. He takes a single knee and begins stretching his legs and back, not wanting to get too relaxed.
Bobitron
Explorer
The Shaman said:
Marcel gives Dinter a smile in return. "I'm just glad I saw it. Berg already told me he's not carrying you out if you get injured, so I don't want to be stuck lugging you over these rocky hills."
The Shaman said:
Marcel drops to his knee, holding his rifle at the ready. He watches the rear flank, his eyes sweeping the area for movement.
Normand Mador
Normand comes to as his name is mentioned. He had barely reacted at the scorpion incident, somewhat lost in his thoughts and not overly alarmed at dangers he doesn't fully believe to be that dangerous.
Scout? What the hell? Do I -look- like I'm good at skulking around? Oh well, no sense in whining, it would just make sure I do it -everytime-.
Without a word and a nod in Pyotr's direction, Normand moves forward.
OOC:
Move Silently check: 17
Hide check: 15
Spot check: 13
Hehe. Despite my total lack of modifiers, I did decently. Oh. Wait. That just means he'll send me -again-.
Normand comes to as his name is mentioned. He had barely reacted at the scorpion incident, somewhat lost in his thoughts and not overly alarmed at dangers he doesn't fully believe to be that dangerous.
Scout? What the hell? Do I -look- like I'm good at skulking around? Oh well, no sense in whining, it would just make sure I do it -everytime-.
Without a word and a nod in Pyotr's direction, Normand moves forward.
OOC:
Move Silently check: 17
Hide check: 15
Spot check: 13
Hehe. Despite my total lack of modifiers, I did decently. Oh. Wait. That just means he'll send me -again-.
shadowbloodmoon
First Post
The Shaman
First Post
Creeping carefully to the edge of the oued, Pyotr and Norman take cover behind a couple of low shrubs and peer into the wash. The oued runs north-to-south, roughly 200m wide from rim to rim, sloping steeply down to the floor some 40m below. The bottom of the dry wash is sandy, broken by thick clumps of shrubs and the occasional palm tree.
As the legionnaires observe, a group of men – six, ten, a dozen, more – come up the wash from the south, walking along the empty stream channel. Some are wearing fatigues, others civilian clothes. All appear to be Muslims and all of them are armed, some with rifles, others with shotguns, at least one with a submachine gun. They are moving steadily, without haste but without hesitation.
As the legionnaires observe, a group of men – six, ten, a dozen, more – come up the wash from the south, walking along the empty stream channel. Some are wearing fatigues, others civilian clothes. All appear to be Muslims and all of them are armed, some with rifles, others with shotguns, at least one with a submachine gun. They are moving steadily, without haste but without hesitation.
