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Wing and Sword: Life During Wartime
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<blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 3064994" data-attributes="member: 26473"><p>Nedjar looks at Pyotr quizzically but doesn’t press the issue. The two legionnaires follow the far wall of the gorge, both men scanning the terrain carefully. Warily picking his way along the toe of the slope, the Ukrainian spots another narrow trail, little more than a couple of boot-widths across, descending the rock wall from the clifftop overhead. Looking at the Algerian para, Pyotr sees that Nedjar has noticed it as well.</p><p></p><p>Following the narrow footpath with his eyes, Pyotr sees that it climbs the cliff without switchbacks, strking down the exposed face – unlike the trail that the legionnaires followed into the gorge, there is little cover afforded by the rocky slope. There is no sign of movement either along the trail or on the clifftop overhead.</p><p></p><p>Arriving at the tomb, Normand and Marcel find the captain and the sergeant in quiet discussion. Both listen as Marcel reports his findings. <span style="color: sienna">“Give those two a hand,”</span> Kat orders when the medic is finished, tilting his head toward the cemetery where Raffaele and Pamuk are searching. <span style="color: sienna">“See what you can find over there,”</span> he continues, pointing at the ruins marking the spot where a building once stood.</p><p></p><p>Approaching the ruins, the outline of the small structure can be made out from the remains of the walls that form the only remaining corner of the building. A small tree, wizened and stunted by the desert heat, stands were another corner may have been at one time, the brick walls all but vanished down to their foundations in the sand. <span style="font-size: 9px"><span style="color: darkgray">Spots checks, please.</span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Watch your step,”</span> Capt. Martini warns. <span style="color: sienna">“It’s likely that there is, or was, a cistern under the floor, probably in one of the corners. It may be filled in, or it may just be covered up.”</span> The officer and the <em>sous-officier</em> resume their conversation, Capt. Martini pulling a map from his leather case as they speak.</p><p></p><p>Raffaele and Pamuk walk cautiously through the small cemetery, examining the graves in turn. Drawing close to the first sarcophagus, Raffaele sees that it is in decent shape, the rocks slabs that make up the sides and top chipped but not broken. Not so the second sarcophagus – the top and one side are cracked. Crouching beside the stone, Raffaele notices that one of the pieces on the broken side of the grave appears that it could be removed from the slab, possibly opening a hole in the side of the sarcophagus.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: sienna">“Barzini.”</span> A few meters away Pamuk holds up two rifle shells, covered in dust. He rubs them against his pant leg, and holds them up again – the shining brass glints in the sunlight.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Shaman, post: 3064994, member: 26473"] Nedjar looks at Pyotr quizzically but doesn’t press the issue. The two legionnaires follow the far wall of the gorge, both men scanning the terrain carefully. Warily picking his way along the toe of the slope, the Ukrainian spots another narrow trail, little more than a couple of boot-widths across, descending the rock wall from the clifftop overhead. Looking at the Algerian para, Pyotr sees that Nedjar has noticed it as well. Following the narrow footpath with his eyes, Pyotr sees that it climbs the cliff without switchbacks, strking down the exposed face – unlike the trail that the legionnaires followed into the gorge, there is little cover afforded by the rocky slope. There is no sign of movement either along the trail or on the clifftop overhead. Arriving at the tomb, Normand and Marcel find the captain and the sergeant in quiet discussion. Both listen as Marcel reports his findings. [color=sienna]“Give those two a hand,”[/color] Kat orders when the medic is finished, tilting his head toward the cemetery where Raffaele and Pamuk are searching. [color=sienna]“See what you can find over there,”[/color] he continues, pointing at the ruins marking the spot where a building once stood. Approaching the ruins, the outline of the small structure can be made out from the remains of the walls that form the only remaining corner of the building. A small tree, wizened and stunted by the desert heat, stands were another corner may have been at one time, the brick walls all but vanished down to their foundations in the sand. [size=1][color=darkgray]Spots checks, please.[/color][/size] [color=sienna]“Watch your step,”[/color] Capt. Martini warns. [color=sienna]“It’s likely that there is, or was, a cistern under the floor, probably in one of the corners. It may be filled in, or it may just be covered up.”[/color] The officer and the [i]sous-officier[/i] resume their conversation, Capt. Martini pulling a map from his leather case as they speak. Raffaele and Pamuk walk cautiously through the small cemetery, examining the graves in turn. Drawing close to the first sarcophagus, Raffaele sees that it is in decent shape, the rocks slabs that make up the sides and top chipped but not broken. Not so the second sarcophagus – the top and one side are cracked. Crouching beside the stone, Raffaele notices that one of the pieces on the broken side of the grave appears that it could be removed from the slab, possibly opening a hole in the side of the sarcophagus. [color=sienna]“Barzini.”[/color] A few meters away Pamuk holds up two rifle shells, covered in dust. He rubs them against his pant leg, and holds them up again – the shining brass glints in the sunlight. [/QUOTE]
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