Origin: Not Just Another Day in the Trenches

Magic is Real.

We fly over oceans, hold the sum of all recorded knowledge in our hands, and speak with relatives halfway across the world without leaving our chairs. Magic isn't just flying on broomsticks or calling down fire from the Heavens. Magic is limited only by your Imagination, and your Will to make it manifest. There's a battle going on over the nature of Reality and Mankind itself. Pretend it isn't there, or get involved and forge the Future you envision.

Welcome to the Ascension War.

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Origin: Not Just Another Day in the Trenches

Post by ManWithDoor » Tue Aug 23, 2016 11:42 pm

Enjoy every moment you have. Because in Life, there are no Rewinds, only Flashbacks. - Anmol Andore

Some time ago ...

You swiftly drop to your hands and knees in the hot ground, sighting along the rifle at a whole lot of nothing. What seems like endless desert stretches along to the horizon. The Black Hawk's rotors blow sand into every crevice of your body as it lifts off. The rest of your squad faces outboard as well, your tan packs spread out.
Image
It is only when the helicopter is disappearing into the distance that Staff Sergeant Hsu orders the men up. The nine men of the squad form up and advance to the east. The badges of the 3rd Brigade of the 1st Armored Division (US Army) are emblazoned on every shoulder. The two fire teams spread out. Your mind methodically works through your briefing this morning on Operation Bulldog Flytrap. The faint beige shapes in the distance is a town you can't pronounce correctly in the Abu Ghraib area. There is firm Intel that the IEDs and roadside bombs plaguing the area originate here. A larger convoy is heading up along the southern highway, while more covert teams such as yourself as walking in from the outskirts.

As the minutes stretch into over an hour of walking, the team begins to chat quietly. Staff Sergeant Hsu walks with the other fire team. He is giving a status update over the radio, his other hand always holding his rifle. Unlike some others, he cut off the rifle straps immediately after receiving it, firmly believing that a soldier with a rifle slung over his shoulder is a defenseless soldier. His pockmarked face scans the area constantly, even when while talking. His most obvious eccentricity is a katana in a scabbard strapped to his back underneath his pack, the handle poking up over one shoulder. When asked about it, he says it was a gift from his father. Not the 'Family katana' or anything, but a treasured belonging he has trained with for over a decade.

Your own superior officer nods at you and grins tightly, not opening his mouth too wide to avoid the dry sand. Sergeant McKay is an odd duck, but competence buys you some leeway in Uncle Sam's Army. He walks around Camp with a big stick he jokingly refers to as genuine Ozark folk art, referencing the carvings he made in it. He's more than happy to make trinkets for anyone interested, and you yourself have a ball-in-a-cage made out of pine wood buried in your pack. He stays up nights studying books on mathematics or something, with diagrams and charts that don't make sense to your eye, or anyone else's. But he is a natural leader, and a top-notch CQC teacher. If it wasn't for his weirdness, and a few administrative punishment details here and there, he wouldn't still be just a Sergeant. But he seems happy where he is, and for some reason has taken a liking to you since you came into the squad. "Corporal King, how are you holding up? Isn't easy to deploy again after losing men under your command." Empathy and some pain show upon his face. "Trust me, I know."
Welcome @MiltonBerle to the game!

Also, I've never been in the military, so I apologize for any glaring errors. Feel free to correct if anything bugs you. Also, your Staff Sergeant is based on (ok, copied off of) my swordfighting instructor, although he was a Marine in the original Gulf War, not an Army Man in the 2nd invasion.

Also, read through your Character Profile. So here's the rub. Sometimes even when you're a Big Damn Hero, you get shafted. For your valour and saving your fellow soldiers, you got awarded the Silver Star. But there was enough fallout from the failed mission and mix-ups in the reports that you got demoted from Sergeant to Corporal. One hand giveth, the other hand taketh. Someone had to take the blame, and this time it was your turn.
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."

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Origin: Not Just Another Day in the Trenches

Post by MiltonBerle » Thu Aug 25, 2016 12:00 am

Getting right to it, huh?

Some wounds... Jamison eyed the sergeant at an angle where he wouldn't get blinded by sand. This was something you learned early. Seemed like everything out in the desert was liable to blind or burn something, and that was just Mother Nature. He kept his mouth closed for the most part, the sand had some reason for that too, and the sun didn't bother him so much after that day...

The Sergeant, his sergeant now that he had been demoted, was a decent enough guy. Goofy as all get out waving that fucking stick of his around, but he knew his shit. Probably better than Jamison, but that wasn't something he was ever going to admit. He hadn't pried too much since Jamison had been placed in his unit. Paperwork probably said enough about that subject. Seems he was one of those men who didn't like walking in sullen silence through a piping hot sandstorm. Weird.

"I'm doing fine Sarge. Rather have another day in paradise than sitting at home, right?" His face was stone as he replied, probably sending the wrong signal altogether to his commanding officer, but whatever. He had a right to deep in thought and brooding. Not everyone can dance around with a stick like there wasn't a care in the world.

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Post by ManWithDoor » Thu Aug 25, 2016 4:57 pm

McKay nods, his head similarly angled sideways from the wind, keeping his eyes clear. He gives a knowing look, letting the point drop. "Absolutely. Who wouldn't prefer having blinding sand shoved into their eyes, when the other option involves sweet tea and air conditioning?" He checks the angle of his rifle, making sure the whirling debris isn't getting into the barrel. Satisfied, he strains his eyes looking forward towards their target. "So what do you think the odds are we'll find our guy? This another fool's errand, or think we'll strike gold?"
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."

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Post by MiltonBerle » Mon Aug 29, 2016 11:40 pm

Jamison thought on that for a second. Army Intel was pretty much a crap shoot and he had never been a gambling man. Maybe this time some informant had brought the right information instead of the opposite, or maybe some idiot said something over a cell phone that actually mattered. Either way it was more than likely a fifty-fifty shot, with a small helping of getting themselves blown the fuck up before getting close.

No use dwelling on the blowing up part, if he even could at this point. That was more what he was concerned about than some god damn nut job in the middle of the desert. Too bad the only reliable way to test that involved possible incineration and dismembered, which were rock bottom of his list of things to do.

Habit made him follow his sergeants example and check his rifle as well. One jam and he wouldn't have to worry about these things plaguing him anymore. "I suppose we're looking at a fifty-fifty here, right? We find what we're looking for or we don't. At least we get a walk with a view."

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Post by ManWithDoor » Tue Aug 30, 2016 2:07 am

The Sergeant chuckles darkly. "Yes, and what a view it is." Complaining - it's the sacred right of every soldier since time immemorial, something in which every member of the squad indulges in. After a few moments, McKay's expression hardens. "I don't know the future any better than most men, but I've got a bad feeling about this. Something tells me we're in for a rough ride on this Mission. Stick close, and we'll get through this together." He presses his off-hand to the hollow of his neck, pressing on some sort of medallion or something underneath his vest you've never gotten a good look at.

Over the course of the afternoon the team makes their way to the town outskirts. There's very little local activity in the heat of the day, a sentiment Jamison surely wishes he could indulge in as well. Their canteens are running low, although that shouldn't be a problem given that they plan on engaging and heading back to base by the end of the day. Staff Sergeant Hsu relays an update from the Comms. The main body of the company is in position to the south, ready to cause a ruckus. Once the explosions start, your squad is to advance on the target location and engage.

While you wait for the appointed hour, the squad takes their last rest break against the side of an abandoned residence. The roof has fallen in and all the glass shattered, but it still protects from the wind. A small blessing.
I don't know about you, but I like to roll my own Dice when I can. I know it's still a Random Number Generator deciding my Fate, but I feel like I have more ownership of the scene. If you want, I can try to give you opportunities to roll in Roll20 when I'm declaring the Roll. For example, you post that you're using Charm + Empathy to persuade someone. I could roll it, or you could. But if I call for a Roll, say Intelligence + Occult to figure out a Magical Circle's purpose in my post, if you want, you could Roll it.

Anyways, after you post I'm going to move the Scene forward to when Shit Goes Down. I'll be calling for a Perception + Alertness check to see how much you detect, and a Dexterity + Stealth roll to see how undetected you are or aren't on your approach. If you want to roll those, great. If not, I'll do it.

Hopefully that all made sense.
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."

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Post by MiltonBerle » Tue Aug 30, 2016 3:40 am

Jamison takes what rest he can in the protection of the abandoned structure. He knows every nook and cranny of him is filled with the same sand he's trying to avoid, but the small respite feels like a feather bed anyways. In the absence of his usual cigarettes he uses chewing tobacco to curb his addiction, a typical substitute that left less evidence. He stuffs a small pack into his lower lip, savoring the jolt of nicotine to his system.

He muffles the snap of the lid as he closes the case and holds it up in offering. What's his was all of his brothers, especially when you couldn't be certain of coming back whole. A second of the thought alone brought his mind back to his "incident", or whatever anyone could call it. Incident or no, Jamison had no idea what the hell went on that day. And he more he thought on it, the wilder his ideas got.

In reality, he probably just got lucky. He was no whiz in statistics class. Most of that was spent flirting with some girl or smoke out back, but there had to be some slim chance that he just lucked out. The way he was sitting, some deflection off a piece of the truck, or maybe his natural instincts let him move out of the way. Deep down he really hoped he turned out to be some sort of superhero. He could see himself fighting crime, deflecting bullets off his chest and stopping cars with bare hands. Then again, he could have been blessed by God. He was never really religious, but he had always heard of miracles.

"Hey Sarge, you a religious man? You belief in any of that shit you can't see?" The question was left open-ended with purpose. He knew the Sarge would think he had gone bible thumping since losing some of his squad, but really he just wanted assurance that something outside of why he knew could be possible.
It's hard for me to roll most of the day since I'm at work, so please feel free to roll for me. I won't fee cheated. I have enough ownership through my own dumbass actions!

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Post by ManWithDoor » Wed Aug 31, 2016 12:26 am

McKay shrugs and takes the can, stuffing some chew under his lip as well before passing it back. He pauses to think for a moment, resting his head against the rough wall. The Sergeant doodles idly in the dirt underfoot, tracing out circles and lines. "I wouldn't say I'm particularly religious in the conventional sense. At least, not how most would see it. Do I believe there's more than just what we can see and taste and touch? Absolutely. Are there beings of power, might, and majesty out there? I don't doubt it. But I don't see any point of abasing myself just because they're stronger than I am. I don't worship volcanoes, or tanks, or Presidents."

He keeps drawing in the dirt, geometric shapes and symbols. "I believe there is a spark of power within each of us. Something more than just mundane human strength. Something holy, supernal, almighty. Perhaps you've experienced that for yourself." Seeing the various lines and curves set out before you, something about it slightly reminds you of the wings of fire you thought you saw in vision.
Perception (3) + Awareness (2) Check - TN 7, since your character doesn't know to pay attention to this sense, but tempered by how the Sergeant isn't exactly being subtle here: 3, 3, 5, 6, 7. 1 Success (marginal success). You get some slight tugs on memory/sensation, nothing spectacular.
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."

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MiltonBerle
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Origin: Not Just Another Day in the Trenches

Post by MiltonBerle » Wed Aug 31, 2016 10:09 pm

That hit a little close to home. Jamison eyed the Sarge warily while digesting that interesting bit of insight into his inner springs and gears. Not many would admit to believing something as radical as that outside of your typical Bible Belt preacher. It was the type of thing that put others on edge, uneasy and uncomfortable.

Wings of fire, beating back the pyre and resurrecting him...

The naked honesty almost made Jamison tell the Sarge about that time. He was almost compelled to, given the circumstance, but he held his tongue. Questioning a man's sanity before diving headlong into danger didn't seem prudent in the least, and if anyone else heard what he would say... Well, they certainly wouldn't want him watching their back.

Instead he played it as cool as he could and saved that conversation for another time, "I guess so. You always hear about those mothers that lift cars to save their kids and shit. Maybe they're just tapping into that, or something is feeding into them. Makes you think though."

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Post by ManWithDoor » Thu Sep 01, 2016 12:20 am

McKay nods along. "Yeah, you're probably right. Mothers can do some crazy -" His rejoinder is interrupted by explosions from the south, and the chattering of gunfire. The Sergeant quickly gets to his feet, getting the fire team lined up against the wall, their weapons at the ready. You notice that the various shapes and patterns in the dirt have been quickly obliterated, and your mind returns to the Mission at hand.

The noise quickly becomes too intense to hear much, so Staff Sergeant Hsu uses hand signals to deploy your fire team to go around the north side of the building, while he accompanies the other fire team around the south. The squad advances to the east towards the target, getting closer to the active fighting but attempting to pass around the enemy mooks. They've got bigger fish to fry. As they make progress, debris and smoke begin to obscure their line of sight.
Image
The two fire teams drift out of sight, leaving you, McKay, and two other soldiers alone in the white fog. McKay checks the GPS, then alters course slightly. Your eyes are clearly the sharpest of the group. That's been a constant most of your life, but it seems to have become even more acute since your 'incident'. You can make sense of the shapes and patterns in the smoke better than anyone. As you round a corner you can make out a roadblock, right in your path. You slam your foot into the ground, reversing direction immediately. Your helmet bangs against the wall, but you stop the rest of the team from emerging from cover.

About 30' away is a set of sandbags creating a narrowing along the road, along with a lowered stop sign preventing easy passage. Three militants man the station, armed with AKs. They seem disorganized and confused, holding their position for now rather than running off to join the fight. Your helmet's sudden noise has startled them, and they are yelling loudly in Arabic, but not firing yet.
This type of Roadblock = Image

With this kind of quality = Image
I could really use that Character Sheet updated, rather than having to look through my PM log every time I want to see your stats. :) Having a sheet shared with me on Google Drive would be nice, and/or the Roll20 sheet.

Perception (3) + Alertness (2), Difficulty 4 (6 standard, -2 for Acute Senses) = 3,6,7,7,8 = 4 Successes. You notice lots!
Dexterity (4) + Stealth (2) , Difficulty 5 (6 standard, -1 it's loud) = 1,1,2,2,4,9. -1 Successes (not a Botch because of the 9). You're a lean, mean, fighting machine! Not a ninja!
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."

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Origin: Not Just Another Day in the Trenches

Post by MiltonBerle » Tue Sep 13, 2016 2:52 am

Nice fucking Looney Tunes shit man

The middle of a war, foreign territory, explosions and unseen enemies... The best he could muster was running his own face into a wall. At least they didn't seem to know exactly where they were, but he really could have done without the structural face palm.

A stiff arm placed in the Sarge's chest served to slow him down, and with a little help from his shoulder keep him from coming around the corner. Jamison pressed him against the wall and waited for the other two to stop. A moment was all he needed to catch his breath. His nerves would need a few more, but that would have to wait, "We got at least three Sarge. Roadblock thirty feet out."

Jamison darkened the ground with a wad of sand and spit and cleared his gun, "They looked about as confused as we do. I'm thinking no one gave them a heads up. Might play in our favor." Might be nice being the one doing the ambushing his time...

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