Wing and Sword: Chat et Souris (Prologue)

[Bobitron]

Marcel, Lavareaux, and Berg clamber up the stony outcrop before settling in among the rocks and shrubs. Marcel gives Berg a quick once-over. The wound in Berg’s back looks odd somehow – on closer examination it’s easy to see why. The bullet barely broke the skin, but it’s heavily deformed – a ricochet.

Berg grunts as Marcel checks the wound. “Be extra gentle with that other one, dear,” he says sardonically as Marcel moves down Berg’s back. The wound to the buttocks is more serious – the blood sticks the legionnaire’s trousers to the torn flesh, slowing exsanguination but making it difficult to see all of the damage.

"Ah, Berg. You won't be sitting comfortably for a while. But you are used to that, aren't you?" Marcel can't help but give a quiet laugh at his joke, patting Berg heartily on the shoulder.

"I've got this wrapped up as best I can."

ooc: Treat Injury 25, Healing 3 hp.

As Marcel checks the wounds, Lavareaux stretches out prone among the rocks and watches first the fellaghas, then Sgt. Neumann’s group among the rocks about 60m away, his hand shading his eyes from the intense desert sunlight. “Work fast, Fortier,” he says, checking over his submachine gun.

"All done, monsieur."

Marcel ducks down tight to the ground as the incoming fire starts pounding into the Legion's position.

Merde. I am sick of being used as a target by these chiens sans mère.

 

[Barak]

Seeing yet another of his shots hit thr ground next to his fell target, Normand swears.

Well. Let's wait until you get up this time...


OOC:
Ready action to shoot at the fell once he gets up. Still figuring -2 for range.
to-hit:7
Darn.

 

[shadowbloodmoon]

Pyotr is almost startled at the fact that the machine gun is aiming at him. Does he see me? Pyotr's doubts infiltrate his mind as he draws a bead on the man. Pyotr tries to push them away, but is unsuccessful. The thoughts guiding his trigger finger are unsure as the bullet leaves the muzzle.

Don't think I hit with this one.... (-4 range, +2 dex, +2 dead aim)

To Hit: 9

 

[знаток]

Vidal keeps his head low, hoping the others will do the same in order to draw the fells closer. He argues in his head whether it'd be worth the ammunition to take a shot now, not even confident that he'd get a chance once he exposed himself. He puts the handset away and grips the rifle in both hands, watching the aircraft circle overhead as the bullets pelt the rocks and sand around them.

"Hey sarge, if the fells try to overtake those guys are we going out? Should we start down the gully now? I can't imagine they'll make it alone if we don't do something."

 

[The Shaman]

Start of round 20. Pyotr’s shot sails long, over the heads of the crew as the gunner racks the slide and presses the stock tight against his shoulder.

Bullets continue to whip around Sgt. Neumann as he slings the Mauser over his shoulder and takes hold of his MAT-49. “Displace,” he orders, his voice firm. “Fall back to the assembly area.” With the machine gun in hand, he coils slightly, ready to spring up.

To the sergeant’s right, Normand leads the fellagha in his iron sights, squeezes off a final shot, but the fell continues his advance untouched by the round.

At the limestone outcrop. Lavareaux points at the fellaghas in the gully. Location D5. “Concentrate your fire on the lead section,” he directs Marcel and Berg, triggering a short burst from his submachine gun. “Slow them down.” Range for Marcel to the fells in D5 is 230 ft. – -4 to hit

To the north Duval shakes his head at Vidal. “They’ll be here soon enough,”he replies. The jumpmaster reaches for his belt. “Here,” he says, tossing the radioman a small canister – a smoke grenade. “When the aircraft arrive, you’ll need to use that to mark our position and guide them in. I’ll...”. The sergent-chef is interrupted as above the crack of the rifles comes the roar of the machine gun.

The fellagha gunner swings the barrel slightly and a gout of fire erupts from the muzzle. The slugs fill the air like an angry swarm of bees around Normand. Normand: Reflex save, DC 15 – +3 to save due to cover. The insurgents’ rifle fire also finds its mark – Sgt. Neumann grunts as another round strikes him, catching him full on the shoulder as he crouches amid the rocks. Gonzalez continues to cower, helpless amid the intense gunfire.

On the hill Berg’s eyes widen at the sound. “MG-34!” he says with surprise. Marcel pulls the trigger of his rifle, but the cover provided by the gully makes it hard to get a clear shot. I used the shot rolled for Marcel in an earlier post. Berg’s rifle speaks as well. The fellaghas seem undeterred.

 

[Bobitron]

"Hold on, Sgt. Neumann! I'll be there once this dies down!"

All right, Marcel. Time to join the fight, he thought.

Taking careful aim over the top of the rocks, he squeezes the trigger once more.

ooc: Marcel rolls a 12, doing 8 if applicable.

 

[Barak]

Normand grunts in pain as one of the flying bullets slams into him.

Nom de Dieu! Time to get out. Actually, past time to get out.

Rising unsteadily, he starts to run in zig-zag towards the designated retreat point.


OOC:
I wrote this assuming Normand only got wounded, and not like killed or anything, since that way it allows things to continue. However, I rolled a 1 on my freaking Reflex save, so not even a Hero point would help.. If the damage is more severe, I'll edit this.
Reflex save:4
Move-action:Get up from prone
Move-action:Retreat!

 

[shadowbloodmoon]

Swearing, Pyotr's frustration gets the better of him. Without taking the time to aim, he stays put and simply lets his rifle speak his frustration at the machine gunner.

I should have used a hero point on that last one...... I totally spaced that we had them. I'll be using one here, if I need it. -4 range, +2 dex= -2

To Hit: 8 roll+5 hero point= 13

After the shot Pyotr will resume starting a Dead Aim.

 

[The Shaman]

Normand feels a hot stabbing pain in his chest, just under his left arm. This time there’s no relieving endorphin rush – the pain is excruciating, bringing on a wave of nausea, and Normand feels his side drenched with warm blood as he prepares to displace. Normand: Damage 9.

Start of round 21. Pyotr’s shot kicks up sand directly in front of the machine gun. As he settles in to draw a bead on the gunner again, the Russians sees the loader pointing in his direction. The barrel of the machine gun swings his way.

“Now! Go!” exclaims Sgt. Neumann, springing up from among the rocks and scrambling across the desert toward the limestone outcrop. Gonzalez leaps up to follow, clutching his rifle in one hand and holding his helmet tight to his head with the other. The MG-34 swings back to the running legionnaires, scattering bullets across the desert around the retreating men. The fellaghas’ rifles add to the din, the rounds chasing the scrambling legionnaires racing for the sheltering hill.

On the hill Cpl. Lavareaux exchanges the MAT-49’s empty magazine for a fresh one. “Covering fire!” he orders, firing a long burst at the fells in the gully, and Marcel and Berg both fire their rifles at the running, diving insurgents. Among the rocks downslope to the north, Duval gives the same order to Vidal, his MAT-49 clattering as well.

 

[Barak]

"Merde, merde, merde! It hurts.."

With one hand clenching his rifle, and the other one pressed hard against his bleeding wound, Normand runs heedlessly towards the next hide-out, hoping to reach it without more lead to carry.


OOC:
Full out run.. Not sure how far the next rocks are, but if I can reach them, I'll drop prone as a free action.