[Full] Ridge #43

The immediate area outside Naris Capitol city
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Tabitha Maru
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Location: Stockholm, Sweden

Postby Tabitha Maru » Sat Apr 27, 2019 5:31 am

The gravel road crunches under the boots of the soldiers as they slowly make their way towards their destination, walking along the lumbering truck that carried supplies, ammunition and weapons. The snows had long since come and gone, which is why the wheels of the truck was kicking up a cloud of dust. As the underbrush beneath the trees revealed that was a recent state of affairs however, as anyone that tried stepping off the road quickly found themselves pulling their boots out the ground.

It was quite cool, but the rays of sunlight coming through the foliage did plenty to shake any feeling of cold from the people on the road. Up above the soldiers the swamp owls were starting to realise there’d soon be enough food around for chicks and had begun their courting among the developing leaves.

It had been like that this reconnaissance patrol left yesterday:silent and quite boring. On paper the mission was simple: check out the supply depot on Ridge #43 and clear the road of any major obstacles if necessary. The intelligence officer had described it as a milk run, as easy and safe as it gets. No enemy presence along the route. Routine.

For some reason that sounded so ominous.

That had seemed to be on the forward scouts’ minds at least. They had two times stopped the force to check up on something. Once on a suspected sniper (it was an old vehicle lying abandoned in the woods, the sun had caught a glint in the rearview mirror) and once on a suspected pit trap (it was just a pile of old leaves). So as the day approached noon plenty of nerves were starting to get more than a little frayed. But finally, the ridge that was the destination revealed itself just beyond the treeline.

The road led up to a small hamlet on the northern end of the small ridge, overlooking the swamps beyond it. The hamlet consisted of two larger homesteads and a collection of smaller one-room huts. The road would continue down from the ridge and onwards further to the north, disappearing into the woods.

South, revealing itself directly to the right on the approach to the hamlet, was a vast orchard. Neat rows of fruit trees, poised to come into bloom, arrayed to catch the most of the sun on any given day. The orchard was watered by a number of irrigation channels that spread northwards from a spring. In addition to the channels the spring also fed a small brook that coiled it’s way down the eastern, rocky, side of the ridge and down into the wooded swamp below. The crestline of the ridge being just high enough to be level with the treetops below.

The southernmost part of the ridge was a large outcropping that extended out eastward. At its furthest point it was possible to draw a straight line between it and the hamlet, the only part of it not being obscured by the orchard between them.

The location looked quite idyllic, seemingly untouched by the war. A slice of peace and calm on an otherwise violent world.

The entire hamlet was built around the homesteads. It’d be a stretch to refer to them as mansions, but both buildings suggested some degree of affluence. Large two-storey buildings with tiled roofs with vines climbing up along the facade, easily large enough to house a extended family and some servants without feeling cramped. The two homes faced one another across a smaller yard, with some larger vats and benches for processing produce. The smaller huts were spread out around the two, if there was a pattern to their placement it is not apparent to you. The huts are unremarkable, offering shelter from the elements but little else, quite probably they were intended for habitation of the farmworkers.

As the forward scouts reported that the place was abandoned and had been for some time the officer in charge: lieutenant Yudel Eckhardt gestured for the column to move into the yard between the buildings. He let his eyes sweep across the tiled roofs as he walked up the road alongside the men he lead.

”Alright, here we are. I want the northern road secured and the buildings searched thoroughly for signs that anyone has been here. Make the truck pull up behind one of these buildings so it won’t be easily spotted from the air. We’ll be here for a while, don’t want any nasty surprises.”

With that command, you seem to have finally reached your destination. How was your trip here? What do you think as come across the ridge? Will you finally get to do something about that pebble in your boot?
---
OOC:

Welcome to Ridge #43, here I’ll lay out some ground rules for how we’ll run this thread. So you all know what to expect.

I aim to post updates on the weekends, once per week. Letting you know if I won’t be able to. I might make some short replies during the week, but all larger updates will happen then.

Major injury or death will happen on a third strike basis. Meaning a single failed roll will not be the end of your character. Once the third strike happens your character is incapacitated and possibly dead if you okayed that outcome.
Unless you do something obviously suicidal, like charge a prepared machinegun nest in the open.

I will, generally, not award any flat bonuses for equipment. I will however let you all use an action to generate advantages that you or others can use as bonuses for your dicerolls. So, as an example, you will not get a +2 to hiding with a cameleoline cloak but the cloak will allow you to hide in a manner that you can later use to give yourself a +2 to sniping someone.

As you may have guessed, the ridge as described above, will be the scene for this little adventure. Mechanically it’s divided into four zones (Hamlet, Orchard, Spring and Outcropping) and moving between them will take time (like moving from Hamlet to Orchard) but moving within them can be done quickly enough that it can be covered in the span of a single post.

In addition to you, there’s a larger number of npcs with us. Feel free to name them or use them for minor things as you please. For all intents and purposes consider the force to be platoon-sized. Similarly, the hamlet and orchard will have items left behind. So you can easily find old tools and such without needing to check with me.

As mentioned in Boot Locker I intend this adventure to be primarily for soldiers. Junior commissars, ncos and low ranking tech priests are fine in limited numbers, but I haven’t really planned for officers.

EDIT: And please note in a ooc note at the end of the first post if serious injury or death is the highest level of consequence you're willing to accept. So I can keep track of it.

Hope you’ll all enjoy it!

EDIT2:
Johan was nice enough to make us a map
Last edited by Tabitha Maru on Sun May 26, 2019 7:12 am, edited 2 times in total.
Private Tabitha Maru - Lieutenant Yudel Eckhardt



Thanks to blinddeadmcjones for the avatar

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LaxKnight
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Postby LaxKnight » Sat Apr 27, 2019 2:38 pm

((Will accept death))

They were saying this was supposed to be a milk run. An easy stroll, or drive in Lance Corporal Ana Lyashev’s case for she drove the truck, they said. Then why did people seem so on edge? People seemed jumpy, just waiting for something to go wrong. Perhaps they’ve been in war so long that the slice of peace they were walking through was unnerving, like being on a different planet. Or perhaps it was simply ‘too quiet’? Or maybe it was that damnable Second Son Ork dungus stewing people’s tensions? She almost wished something would happen for the bastard to die from. The Valhallan didn’t know; she was simply the driver/mechanic/informal medic and all she knew was the route they were going and if something needed fixing she was here to fix it.

While officially a drive, especially in this mission, it would be clear to anyone who looked at Ana’s grey-blue greatcoat to see she was more than that. The grease stains that always returned no matter how often she washed it, the small stitches and patches from small, sharp bits poking her along with the pin-sized holes and tiny tears of those she either missed or didn’t have time for, and the scratches on her gloves told that she was a mechanic, if the combitool on her belt wasn’t enough. Heavy bags under her green eyes held many nights where sleep came from only from a bottle. Her breath was heavy with the smell of tana, nothing unusual for a Valhallan but it would have had alcohol if she didn’t have a job to do. Or if that Second Son prick wasn’t here. That ass almost wanted to make her drink anyway.

The order came. They were to stop and she to park the truck out of sight.

“Yes sir,” Ana replied to the Lieutenant as she guided the vehicle to where he pointed and stopped it. Once parked she took a moment to grab a flask of tana, waiting for some sort of all clear so she can hop out. She looked around to see who else was about and take in a bit more of the serene, yet eery, scene.
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Tue Apr 30, 2019 12:42 am

((Will accept death))

Grenadier #6732-D had been walking for hours upon hours. This was normal, and expected. The shabby figure had been silent for the entirety of it. No one really spoke to a Grenadier, and he wasn't inclined to speak to others unless necessity dictated it. They weren't of Krieg, they had little common ground.

His legs were sore, his body ached. But still he marched, mud clinging to his heavy combat boots with each sucking step. When finally the order was given to secure the hamlet, he almost sighed with relief. But only almost. Appearances had to be maintained, a source of unity for those around him. To those within the Krieg regiment, there were myriad different variants and speaking for his own unit, they personally thought the rest were insane. But outwardly they were all Death Korps. They were fearsome, and there were things expected of them. Things like not sighing.

The heavy powerpack would have been cumbersome for others, especially those less experienced in its use. But for this Grenadier, it was like a part of his own body, and the thought of having to clear a building whilst wearing it produced only a mild annoyance that he was likely going to bump into things frequently.

He started towards one of the closest buildings to begin a sweep and then paused, realizing for perhaps the hundredth time that this was not his unit. So many different soldiers here, so many different doctrines. Where he would have expected a trio of other Grenadiers to break off with him and clear the building as they'd practiced a thousand times before . . . how did the other units do it? Did a sergeant come with them?

Behind his heavy mask his face sagged with frustration. He didn't like the unknown. Or perhaps more accurately, he didn't like facing the unknown with allies that were also unknown.

There was nothing for it, though. The entire hamlet could be a trap, training and experience screamed at him to clear the buildings even if he was the only one doing it. All he could really do was try not to accidentally shoot a fellow guardsman. With stomping footfalls, he trodded for the closest hut, that which he deemed the the most likely ambush site.
Last edited by Fates End on Tue Apr 30, 2019 2:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Tue Apr 30, 2019 2:06 am

(Will not accept death.)

The smell of a campfire smoke without a source with the tiniest hint of static ozone wafted from the bandaged figure. His simple copper and brass staff clutched in his hand as he moved. Hus thumb feeling over the worn spots inked and melded by his bodies oils. They rubbed the same small diamond with the Aquila carving in its center over and over again. The diamonds sharper edges bunted from the constant rubbing. He felt his insides tighten once in anxiousness of the silence that fallowed after the orders. Jumping a moment at the sound of the Valhallans voice from nearby. He moved his mind along in hope of calming as he further rubbed the same spot.

His feet were used to the uneven feeling of gravel and rocks into the boots from the rubble of the uppershafts. At least he was not wearing robes like he has seen his other-world kin wear before that would be unpleasant to wash and wear on top of making them a target. This was a nice place at least. It was green and the cold was melting away. His amber lenses reflex the light gently into his eyes as he lets out a tired breath beneath his bandaged face to help steady his nerves. He was unsure of his handler and the overwatch on him. But he will serve them as he has served before. With an adjustment on the cap he continued to fallow the group. Hunched down and scanning the orchard. He felt a tingle of hope for seeing the flowers of the trees and the possibility of the sweet sent's they bring. Maybe the silence was not all bad. If one were to breath slowly and listen closely he could hear running water. His sent would slowly change to that of leafs smoke with a strange electric tang as he continued his trot forward.

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Wed May 01, 2019 4:03 pm

((Will accept death))

Among the troops involved in this task were a few of the now rarely seen fur hats of the Vostroyan first born. At the forefront of the whole guard advanced was, to those who could distinguish Vostroyan rank, a rather up beat lance Corporal. Although his respirator mask concealed his face, it was clear by the stride in his step and the fact that he didn't show any sign of tiring in his almost parade level march that he was ether keen or simple enjoying himself. He even had his vintage Vostroyan las rifle at the proper shoulder position. Though then again, all the Vostroyans did. As lieutenant Eckhardt gave the order, the nco brought his weapon out of shoulder arms and turned to the three nearest guardsmen. "Right, with me men! Will stack up on the right building and clear through. Let's go!". His voice, although it held the sense of comand, seemed 'light' for that you would expect from a lance Corporal. Even with the command coming loud and clear through his respirator.

Second Lieutenant Chrisov Smolenski was having a great time, finally free of the desk he was figuratively chained to. What a wonderful opportunity he had found amidst the papers on his desk yesterday. A request for him to sign for a few Vostroyan guardsmen to join a simple patrol to this outpost. And who would be among the requested but his own aid (or third and fourth hand in the office as he sees it). Knowing that his aid wasn't too keen to leave the office (No because of a lack of courage mind you. But for a complete different reason...), Smolenski found himself with the escape to the field he had been hoping for. It was simply perfect. A day out and no one would be the wiser. All he had to do was alter the paper work, trade weapons and fur hats with his aid and change the rank I insignia on his uniform. And what Better rank to be than a lance Corporal? Still able to practice his command and control while also shaking off the dust on his own battle drill. And so, lance corporal Ivanov Tosca was officially part of this patrol.

The newly crafted nco moved with a sense of purpose as he approached the two story building. Staking up on the outside, making sure to avoid Windows and not touch the wall, he scanned the door for signs of a trap or tampering.
//

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Wed May 01, 2019 4:26 pm

[Death Acceptable. Ave Imperator]

"Listen here!"
A loud and gravely voice followed the middle aged man disembarking from the cargo truck with a light jump.
His painfully white uniform, purple colours and not a single speck of road dust made all too clear this man is from the 2nd Sons.
Unlike the 2nd Sons' typical frivolous vanity, he wore a helmet and wielded a vicious and downright savage repeater shotgun in addition to his usual NCO kit, not to mention his manners.
"...This beautiful frakhole has no walls to hide under so don't drop your guard for a second! Over there.." he pointed west to the water tower at the edges of the villiage "Is the best Emperor-loving vantage point in the whole area. Scouts! Put a pair of eyes up there and we'll be glad. Footsloggers! You've got a villiage to clear so follow your gas huffing comrades' shining example and get to it. Briggs!" He turned to the cadian commander of the mortar they brought with them "Start crunching the numbers and get me firing angles! Orchard, Woods, Swamp, Villiage, the whole shining package. Get help from the tower when it has our eyes."

The Glare of the Sergeant Major was... typical.

/

blinddeadmcjones
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Postby blinddeadmcjones » Fri May 03, 2019 4:37 am

(will accept serious injury)

suppressing a sigh at the sargeant majors bellowing given she had already nominated a pair of scouts to scale the water tower before he started, marida focused back on the task at hand "i don't want to hear it" she responded to the mutterings of a couple of the scouts who were unhappy about how she had worked them in scouting the path ahead for the convoy and not being allowed to take a break yet, while she understood they were tired she wasn't going to leave anything to chance

"split into two groups, i want a full figure 8 sweep of both the forest to our west and the one south of the village, note everything you see. once you return we'll take five and then sweep the road ahead." one of the scouts closest started scratching underneath his shoulder plate awkwardly when no one moved, in turn the sargeant gave a brief glare

"Now."

at that they all snapped out of their reverie and got to work. satisfied, marida took another look at urz before leading her mount towards the truck where the other officers were gathering
guard characters: ///

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rodbob
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Postby rodbob » Sat May 04, 2019 7:59 pm

((Will accept death - The Emperor Protects!))

Geordie's feet ached in his boots, they'd been walking for hours. When the truck stopped he took a moment to lean up against it, slip off one boot at a time and massage his feet briefly. He looked over to a picturesque hamlet ahead, this would appear to be their final destination.

”Alright, here we are. I want the northern road secured and the buildings searched thoroughly for signs that anyone has been here. Make the truck pull up behind one of these buildings so it won’t be easily spotted from the air. We’ll be here for a while, don’t want any nasty surprises.”

Geordie put his boots back on and followed the Krieger grenadier, Geordie had been billeted with the Kreigers as no one really knew what else to do with him. He was , as far as he knew, the only Durhamer remaining in this sector of the battlefield, and due to similarities in certain home-world traits (mainly being predominantly subterranean) local Command had billeted him in with these dour soldiers of infamous Kreig. He had gotten used to the way they operated and was happy to accompany the grenadier, at least they knew how to act when things went sour.

"On yur six grenadier" Geordie said, his thick Geordie accent coming through clear. "I'll covva ya, youse just gaan furst."

As they approached the hamlet, Geordie could hear the Sergeant Major, some ponce of a 2nd Son, bellowing.

"Ta very much youse numpty, there goes oor chances of surprise." He grumbled quietly to the Krieger.
Doing the work of the Emperor is its own reward.

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Tabitha Maru
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Postby Tabitha Maru » Sun May 05, 2019 5:27 am

((The thread is still open, for those still hoping for a chance to join us))

The only sign of life in the hamlet was the sounds made by the recently arrived guardsmen spreading out across and away from it. Much like it had seem from first glance the hamlet had been abandoned.

The other soldiers might not have immediately responded to #6732-D subtle cues to sweep the village but once he started to get closer the fusilier “Geordie” and a cadian, Thomas, came up behind him to assist.
Throughout the huts various bits and bobs lay strewn about: knives for pruning the trees, thinner pieces of clothing, toys and cooking utensils. Notably there weren’t any food in any of the huts, the cupboards having been scraped clean of it a long time ago. It seemed to the experienced krieger that the inhabitants left some time ago and that they left in a hurry, leaving behind anything they couldn’t afford to take with them. Sadly, the huts did not seem to offer any chance as martyrdom as they contained neither enemies nor traps.

Close-by a “lance-corporal Tosca” is doing his best impression of a young and eager lieutenant, taking some initiative and grabbing some friends to sweep the one of the homes. Bursting into the hallway and securing the living room to the right, the study to the left and the cupboards and kitchen straight ahead past the stairs. Much like the huts it showed clear signs of having been abandoned in a hurry. To “Tosca’s” eyes it seemed they had tried to grab everything of value, most notably the desk’s drawers had been pulled out and ransacked. Lying in disorganised heaps were financial reports, employee rosters and schematics. Things you wouldn’t need. However, a quick glance confirmed there were no deeds or loan documents present, anything you’d need to prove you owned the farm.

The upper floor were similarly emptied: clothing missing from the wardrobes, jewelry missing from the jewelry boxes, shapes in the dust were picts and paintings used to be. It’s clear to you it wasn’t looted, whoever cleared this place knew what to grab and where it was (more or less). There’s cupboards and drawers that haven’t even been touched.

The door to the basement stair seems to be locked with a heavy padlock however, the kind you’d see used by the imperial guard or the pdf. The floorboards scratched by the tell-tale sign of something very heavy being dragged across them.

As Flint came closer to the orchard he found he could see down the straight rows of fruit trees. It was neater than in the settlement itself, only the occasional wheelbarrow or rake left standing between the trees. No expert on horticultural practices but it seemed that they must’ve left sometime after harvest at least. As for now, no flowers yet but it wouldn’t be long now. Very calm, serene. Somewhere in the distance you see a flock of agitated birds take flight, from down in the swamp you think.

Lyashev managed to find a shed behind the building to park the truck in, open both in the front and the back so she wouldn’t be forced to reverse the truck out of it should the worst come to pass. In all likelihood the shed had been used for a truck or a tractor belonging to the farm itself at some point.

As she jumps out she lands on the dirt floor in the shed, there’s track marks here but no vehicle has stood here for a very long time. As it happens it’s also the perfect spot to sneak oneself a sip of tana without the sergeant major noticing. Or something stronger for that matter, but chances are the second son would notice that on the smell.

There seem to be a backdoor to the house next to the shed, leading into the kitchen. Briefly she sees Tosca through the window as he sweeps the kitchen for threats.

The sergeant major’s barking at the gathered soldier’s seemed to have had effect as the guardsmen fanned out to execute their respective tasks. Perhaps he’d even find it satisfactory, if that was a word that existed in the vocabulary of a sergeant major.

Much of what Montgomery had ordered were already underway, such as the scouts sent out by sgt Beckett. There were dirty looks sent in both ncos’ direction but the men wisely did what they were told and kept their mouths shut (at least until they were out of earshot). Briggs got to work finding a decent spot for the mortar and began figuring out the range and wind speed and direction as ordered.

Urz seemed content to rest his feet for a moment, watching the guardsmen scurry about the hamlet and occasionally curiously turning his attention to sources of sound in the hopes that something to eat would reveal itself. When Becket came to his side he briefly nudged her in the side with his snout to let her know that he was hungry. When she grabbed his reins he dutifully got up and followed her, ready for whatever the sergeant had planned.

Both NCOs would find the lieutenant standing by the truck, studying the hamlet and the activity in it with a thoughtful expression. Taking a few steps out to get a better sense of the layout of the hamlet and looking down the road to the north. Once they got close enough that he could speak to them without raising his voice he turned towards them, a faint whiff of alcohol was noticeable on his breath.

”It’s been a long morning and I was thinking about letting the guardsmen get some rest once we’ve secured this place. A few minutes to rest their feet and eat their rations. We’re going to need them fed before we get to work unloading the truck after all.

Sergeant Beckett: I want extra attention spent on determining whether anyone’s been here and found the supply depot. I’m uncomfortable leaving promethium barrels and ammunition unattended as is… just because intelligence believes no one's been around doesn’t mean they haven’t. So let’s make sure.”
Private Tabitha Maru - Lieutenant Yudel Eckhardt



Thanks to blinddeadmcjones for the avatar

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Sun May 05, 2019 6:12 pm

After clearing the door and checking if the door was locked, “lance-corporal Tosca” made entry with his stack and systematically cleared the entire building room by room. As the interior started to painted a picture, the Vostroyan couldn't help but feel concern. As much as the war had caused many to leave their homes at short notice, there was still the question of what exactly made them leave? The lock basement was of particular interest too.

As they finished clearing he placed out the other three guardsmen to best dominate the building. Although he wasn't familiar with the regiments of the guardsmen who had joined him one had a lasgun pattern that looked like it would be good in a suppressing role, so he positioned him in a window on the top floor. He'd have a good view there where his weapon could be effective. The other two he positioned on the ground leave, one near the front door, the other watching the basement entrance. Best to be safe than sorry as his uncle would put it.

With the man at the door able to guide anyone who would enter after, the imitation nco step out the back to find the lieutenant. Spotting him with the other ncos, he gave a nod to Lyashev as he pass on his way over. As he came up to the small group he gave his report. "Other than the basement, the right building is clear sir. No one inside, looks like they left in a hurry. There's a lock on the basement door, similar to the ones we use. Would you wish us to force entry?".

Although Smolenski spoke with confidence, his gentle voice still gave an air of uncertainty through his respirator.
//

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Mon May 06, 2019 3:07 am

Something was caught in David's nosetrils, a scent that for all terms and porpuses shouldn't be here let alone emenate from a soldier's breath.
He subtly turned to marida with whom he didn't ride on the truck and had time to get herself drunk, he was delightled to discover being wrong.
If that's the case then...
Montgomery's eye twitched, an officer let alone a cadian, during a mission... well if he plans on resting then Montgomery will have enough time for grilling as is.

"Not yet, Lance Corporal." David slowly turned to Tosca, "The basement is going nowere and you still got half a hamlet to clear so regroup with the rest and get to it. Unless you'd want the xenos to take that half." The 2nd sons simply ordered and sent him on his way before turning his sight west towards the water tower. The scouts should be already there by now. He can improve on that.

"Briggs, Get me your spotter boy" the sergeant major demanded "Your name, Blondy?" The 2nd son addressed the presented teen "uh Link, sir. Link Highrule, sir." Link slightly budged under the NCO's stare. "Very well then, mister Highrule. Follow me and ready your shovel." The pair went to the neighboring truck right next "Lyashev! Get your shovel and follow!" He called mid walk then re entered the truck. From it, he produced an end to a thin but strong wire still connected to some unseen roll still inside as well as a small kit: Mobile Wire Based Field Comms.
"Here's what we're going to do: The Xenos have proven themselves to have ears in our Vox so let's deprive them the knowladge of our firing targets. We'll be lightly digging from Briggs' Position over there to the tower. Just so no one will see the wire and decide to cut it. Understood? Now begin."
The NCO produced his own shovel and began extending the wire all and hiding it beneath ground, foilage, rocks and anything nearby in an effort to blend it with the enviroment all the while instructing his 2 subordinates.

Hiding the Wire
Rolled: 1 +0(sneaky) =1 Total

/

Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Mon May 06, 2019 8:55 am

Flint would watch the birds then as they flew from the north east and rather hasty as far as he could tell. He would turn around as he felt his nerves tighten. The ozone smell around him strengthened. He didnt know much about birds or the nature in general outside of a few tidbits but unlike his adopted home he has spent a fair portion of his life above the ground. He would move closer to the group. The loud yelling and rather scary Sergeant Major. Maybe it would be best to go to...another one of higher rank. He took a brief and hopeful glance around to see no one ellse. "if there was one." he thought to himself.


The psyker made his way to the intimidating man who had just given some trooper a end of a wire to run. Field vox. He tightened up more as he reached the Sergeant Major. The smell changing back to campfire smoke with large hints of ozone wafted around him as the amber glass of the bandaged figure looked up to him. "S-sir..." the muffled voice mewled out smart enough not to salute out here. "I b-believe there mi-might be mo-movement in the swamps sir." looking over to were the now long gone birds shuffled away from B-but I could be wrong...sir he moved his bandaged thumb over the diamond again and again on his staff.

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Zeppo
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Postby Zeppo » Mon May 06, 2019 7:16 pm

((Will accept death))

Lucius as walk next to the truck, repressing his urge to hop in the truck, the feeling the air whipping his face, the feeling of speed, the song of the wind on his wings.
But as he marechal des logis it was his duty to lead by the example. So, he walks silently side by side with the other.
Arriving in the hamlet, a wave of nostalgia submerges him. It’s feels like home, like if someone has detached a part of his home-world and has put it here on Valmaria. He stays in the middle of the road, contemplating the orchard.
Then the first order arrived. He straps his grenade-launcher on his back and starts to move toward the truck to help the cadian installing the mortar.

Lachance joint the other NCOs, listening to the Lieutenant and Sergeant Major orders but that was the comment of the creepy psyker that get his attention.
“Thank you, hum … Flint, that right? Thanks for your report. We’ll make sure that nothing will pass the ridge.”
He turns to the rest of the troops “I’ll need help to install a heavy weapon nest on top of the ridge.” He says with the unsure voice of someone new to the art of giving orders and waits, unsure what to do next.
Then finally, he starts to walk toward the north of the road. Hoping someone will follow him. As he walks, he examines the roadsides looking for a good spot.

[[Alric6594: Ridge#43, Lucius Clever roll to find a good spot for a heavy weapon nest]]
[[Alric6594 rolls 4u1(3) + Clever (2) = 5]]
Mordian Iron Guard :
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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Tue May 07, 2019 2:40 pm

//

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LaxKnight
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Postby LaxKnight » Tue May 07, 2019 4:47 pm

Ana noticed the old tracks where she parked but didn’t think much of them because they are just that: old. She reached inside the cab to pocket the keys and grab her lascarbine before closing the door. She took a moment to look around to see if there was anyone before she reached into her greatcoat. It was a good time to take another drink of tana. Or perhaps something a little… stronger. Her hand settled where she hid one of her special flasks for a moment.

Just a little sip for the mixed drink. You deserve it for listening to that pompous Second Son. Just a little more to get through the day. One sip won’t do anything bad.

She shook her head to get the thoughts out. She was the driver and she already had her good luck drink. Though the smell of tana could hide the alcohol she didn’t want to test it. She grabbed her tana flask and took a drink. Tosca would see her just finish putting the flask back in her greatcoat. Seeing the nod, she gave him a small smile and wave. Lance Corporals got to stay together in this stripe heavy group.

Said bars and stripes seemed to be gathering around her truck and if anyone cared to see what Ana was doing they would find her looking over the tires to make sure they didn’t run over anything pokey and that the pressure was good. She was going to hop inside the truck to check on the supplies when the Sergeant Major ordered her to grab a shovel and follow. She suppressed her sigh until she got back into the cab to grab her shovel. She looked at it a moment, trying to think of a number of excuses she could use to get out of this. Judging most to be either too flimsy and thinking that ultimately he wouldn’t care no matter what she said, she gave a final sigh before going to wherever he decided to go. She should have taken that drink.

Ana listened to the blowhard with the most unenthusiastic look on her face that made her feelings about this endeavor transparent. It also seemed apparent in her work as she simply dug, getting lost in the work to get it over with and only paying attention to the Ork Dungus when it seemed prudent.

[Rolling Stealth to hide wire(?)]

[Total: -2]
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



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rodbob
Posts: 159
Joined: Mon Jan 09, 2017 11:44 pm
Location: Sydney, Australia

Postby rodbob » Tue May 07, 2019 6:43 pm

Geordie worked his way up to an empty single hab unit, he quickly glanced through the front window, the interior was dark. He couldn't see any movement.

"Little pigs little pigs we've come te steal yer vid unit." he said quietly as he prepared to kick in the door. He turned to the Krieger Grenadier "Aa naas I said youse furst, but Aa'll dee this'un alreet?"


((Forceful roll with Geordie's +2 modifier = success))

Geordie squared up to the door and with an almighty kick, he booted in the door and leveled his stubber at the gloomy interior

"WE'S HYEM?" He yelled as he stepped into the room.

Nothing but silence and dust greeted him.

"Alreet thisn's clear." He said, slightly disappointed. Truth be told, he was itching for a firefight.
Doing the work of the Emperor is its own reward.

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CyGamer
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Joined: Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:16 pm
Location: Missouri, USA

Postby CyGamer » Thu May 09, 2019 9:45 am

(Will Accept serious Injury. Ave Imperator)
Krast had moved through the town, uncharacteristically silent for the talkative Cadian. Another strange thing about him was his lack of his signiture flamer on his back, instead replaced with a hellgun power pack. He kept his gun lowered but ready, sweeping through the Hamlet with a few other cadians. Every now and then he'd click into his vox, giving a quick ++Clear, moving to next area."++ In truth his mind was wandering, about the ridge and this assignment. They hadn't seen a single target this whole time, not one traitor, Tau, Kroot, or even any traps. Part of him was happy, as no targets meant your less likely to be shot, but the veteran in him knew that it was also bad to not know where the enemy was.

He sighed, and kicked open another hut door. Same as the last, nothing but some old furniture and tools. He pushed his vox bead and told his group.++Clear. Well hell, seems they all left quick. Let me know if you all see anything.++

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

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Fates End
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Joined: Thu Mar 30, 2017 1:00 am
Location: Deepest Darkest Montana

Postby Fates End » Thu May 09, 2019 8:14 pm

#6732-D watched the youthful Fusilier kick in the door with a mixture of bemusement and frustration. Why did the other regiments always feel the need to get in the way?

Despite what others may assume about the Death Korps, #6732-D was not particularly interested in martyrdom. He'd seen enough of that to last for many lifetimes. But he was still greatly interested in making sure that his duty was fulfilled. That included taking bullets for other, more valuable servants of the Imperium, such as the gung-ho Fusilier who just bashed in a door that could have easily been boobytrapped.

He kept his mouth closed, however. Sweeping through the huts with the precise movements of one who'd spent a great part of his life clearing buildings. Falling into line behind the Fusilier and ensuring the Cadian that had come along was a safe distance away but still within easy reach if the need arose to render aid.

Hut after hut he cleared with the others, feeling a tinge of relief in the fact that there weren't bodies. He hated finding citizens' bodies, devoid of life. Each one a reminder that he'd failed yet another citizen. But today was not that day, it seemed. He stopped at the edge of the last hut in their general vicinity and swept his gaze over the hamlet, taking note of where the friendly forces were. He keyed the vox built into his helmet ++Outer huts clear, no sign of hostiles.++ He announced in a voice that sounded as though gravel and dirt were having a battle in his lungs.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

blinddeadmcjones
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Location: Australia

Postby blinddeadmcjones » Sun May 12, 2019 5:45 am

guard characters: ///

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Tabitha Maru
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Location: Stockholm, Sweden

Postby Tabitha Maru » Sun May 12, 2019 7:24 am

”There is no need to force entry lance corporal. We have the key” The lieutenant said as Tosca reported in then looked at the exchange between the sergeant major and the lance corporal. He took a lho stub from his pocket started trimming it with a knife as the two departed for their respective tasks, following the lance corporal intently with his gaze as the man set out to carry out the task the sergeant major had given him.

The work to bury the voxline could’ve gone better. It wasn’t very well hidden at all. There was clear signs the line had been buried under the dirt of the yard. But on the bright side, by the time the enemy would be close enough to see it then they were too close to use the mortar anyways. Pvt Highrule was climbing up the water-tower, attaching the line to the interior of the supports to keep it somewhat out of sight in keeping with the sergeant majors desire to keep it hidden.

The smell of burning sap and wet wood filled the camp as the psyker walked into the centre caused some attention by the soldiers around. Lifting their heads to see the abomination walk and then turning their gaze elsewhere, touching their aquilas or lucky charms to ward them from the effects of his influence.
When the psyker told them about the birds, the lieutenant turned to the direction of the swamp and gazed out over to sky as if the spot the now vanished birds. ”Could be, could be. Still… better to the careful. Good job.” He nodded his assent to Lachance’s course of action.

It took a few moments but LaChance, now joined by Tosca, Smolenski and Grigor found and ideal spot to set up the heavy bolter. It was a small rocky mound on the edge of the ridge on the edge of the orchard, overlooking the swamp, and would make spotting the team very difficult. A textbook case on how to position a heavy weapon essentially.

Between #6732-D and Geordie’s team and Krast’s team the remainder of the hamlet was quickly swept. Much like the previous huts there wasn’t anything noteworthy to find in any of the huts, or in the second of the larger homes present. The only thing worth mentioning was that the hamlet was still in good repair. If the residents were to suddenly return there wouldn’t be much left revealing they had ever been gone.

As Becket got onto the watertower she was treated with a rather extraordinary view, the swamp stretching for miles upon miles. Like a sea of foliage beneath her. Wind blowing through her hair bringing with it the smell of leaves, flowers and running water (and a faint whiff of rot, typically associated with swamps).

Switching to thermal the landscape shifted into a spectrum between blue-green and red. She could see the fumes from the truck still rising behind the building, the outlines of her scouts as they entered the orchard and the breath of the guardsmen working beneath her. But as the sunkissed the leaves of the foliage it was very difficult to make out anything in the great mass beneath them all.
There could be someone down there, there could even be lots of people down there. But if there was, she couldn’t see them. The only thing she could say for certain was that there were no tau hover tanks or aircraft down there.

#6732-D, Geordie, Krast, LaChance, “Tosca” and Becket: Make a Careful check. Treshhold is at 4
Private Tabitha Maru - Lieutenant Yudel Eckhardt



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