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Message: <blockquote data-quote="знаток" data-source="post: 2082433" data-attributes="member: 27735">Vidal pushes himself off the ground.  As he forces his legs to take him closer to the fray, he notices that time is not slowing for him as one reads.  On the contrary, things seem to be happening all around him faster than he can comprehend them.  He hears the cracking of gunfire, as well as the sound of bullets cutting their swath through the air dangerously near.  It seems now that there's a single cloud of dust suffocating the entire battlefield, adding a fittingly distinct visual ingredient to the din of yelling and gunfire and heightening the sense of claustrophobia.  Things seem to be going poorly for the legionnaires.  The fells may be dropping quickly, but they've got us seriously outnumbered.  And what happened to our organization?  Our tactics training?  The chaos of the situation is unsettling him more and more, but he knows he has to keep it together for the sake of the men around him.  He takes aim and fires on another adversary as he moves to enter the gully behind Sergeant Duval, carrying on the same ongoing private conversation with God that he started in his head when this all began.  Don't let me let these guys down. Attack to D3-4: <a href="http://krisinchico.brinkster.net/searchroll.asp?username=Vidal#151709" target="_blank">4</a>Trying to do too much at once again, he thinks to himself as he mentally recounts his ammunition.  This is no way to conserve ammo.  </blockquote>

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