Link to OOC Thread: http://forum.eternalcrusade.com/threads/the-europan-conflicts-ahrp-ooc-planning-thread.54803/ Rules: Keep OOC to a minimum utilizing the appropriate thread and private messages. All players have a 24 hour grace period for responses excluding applicable reasons to allow fair balances Use a computer generated die, if I feel you're being untruthful I will roll for you when prompted Technical Data for combat can be posted in the OOC Thread upon request but will not be posted in here for immersion purposes Keep calm and Roleplay on, all matters are to be brought up with the GM @CommissarGaunt ________________________________________________________________________ The Kingdom of Hesperia, Naval Fortress Blackwood 87 miles from the CAS and Empire DMZ 17th of June, 1897 0520 Terran Standard Time Humid, heavy air permeated the musky barracks as the first rays of filtered light slithered through the cracks of flak board along the pre-fab structures windows. Each tendril illuminated the particle rich environment as the heavy gas curtains prevented much air-circulation and the recent summers heat had knocked out the main ventilation systems preventing the usual cool, frigid air from permeating the unprotected flesh of the weary souls hunkered down in sweat drenched bunk beds. Inside, a total of twenty men and women of the Principalities United Defense Force slumbered after a hard week of exercising and training, their minds far away from the recent turmoil of the bases training grounds. Their rest was well-deserved but like all good things in life, it came to a reality shattering halt as a heavy boot kicked open the barracks door and a machine assisted voice was amplified like an air-raid siren screaming louder than a naval bombardment in which only a drill sergeant could. "OUTSIDE OUTSIDE! GET TO YOUR POSITIONS MAGGOTS! WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS!? WEEKEND LEAVE!? ALL OF YOU DOUGH BOYS OUTSIDE AND IN FORMATION NOW!" The voice penetrated each persons head causing a mixture of shock and surprise even as the closest were almost literally thrown out the barracks door by the sergeants aides who used a mixture of shock-batons and laced boots as encouragement to those who were still too groggy. Outside, the fresh air of the ocean scattered the oppressing scents of unwashed bodies, sweat, and caked mud even as sunlight blinded those who were unfortunate enough to look in the wrong direction. Already the scene was being repeated across the main barracks as all fifty platoons were marshaled out onto the parade ground by equally over-enthusiastic drill sergeants. Ahead, the main parade ground was quickly filling with half dressed soldiers, both green horns and solid veterans before the wreathed flag of the CAS. In the distance, the obstacle course lurked menacingly, razor wire strands already coated in fresh hunks of raw meat and trenches filled with stagnant water. It was going to be a long day of training...going on the sixth day straight. As Squad Hammer-fell was goaded into place, their officer, Staff Sergeant Bakerson was already on the prowl walking up and down the ordered (more or less) ranks of soldiers stopping every once in a while to scream randomly in a soldiers face. After nearly two minutes, all the recruits and soldiers were in formation and the staff sergeant climbed on top of a nearby LAV to address the ranks. "Listen up Ladies! Due to the lack of 'motivation' in this company's efforts, all weekend passes are cancelled and training will continue today and tomorrow. See that lovely obstacle course back there!? Each and every one of you is going to run through it and get back in formation in ten minutes or less. If any of you fuck up, you will ALL RUN IT AGAIN! Do you get me ladies!?" Sergeant Backerson boasted as he leaned in dramatically waiting for the unified response. ________________________________________________________________________ GM's Words of Advice and Instructions The average time of completion on the training course is 17 minutes and consists of four 20 meter long razor wire trenches, seven 15 meter tall wall vaults with minimum hand-holds, and two 20 meter long tire tracks. This is an ice-breaker post, work as a team to complete each challenge regardless of time it takes. You're all going to be doing it again anyway! MWAHAHAHAHAHA. Respond how you want to the training course, each obstacle is considered an Agility challenge with a rating of 15. Roll Xd10 with X marking the first number of your AG ie: 23 would mean 2d10. If you succeed (Roll higher than 15) each one you perform under the 10 minute requirement barely, every failure increases your time taken by 1 minute. Welcome to RNJesus hell ladies!
The humid and oppressive atmosphere was only made worse by the revoking of the weekend pass. John knew it was going to happen, but a sliver of hope that they would atleast have some form of rest was still there. That was quickly and soundly destroyed when the door had been thrown open and the yelling started. Outside the air was no better, as he moved into formation he accepted their fate of running the gauntlet. "Roger Sergeant!" Was quickly yelled back in response before running for the first set of obstacles. Crawling into the first pit of stagnant water covered by razor wire was a simple enough task, the water helped only slightly with the rough training conditions. But exiting the first razor wire feeling the weight of his soaked uniform and the heavy humid air spurred him that much more quickly to the next set of razor wire. John wasted no time to dive into the stagnant pool under the wire and rotting meat. As he cleared the final two wire obstacles he caught a glimpse of the next challenge: the Wall Vaults! Hitting the first wall he cleared it with ease, having the momentum from the final razor wire obstacle. The next two walls began to wear on his strength, but he cleared them on his first attempt regardless. Hitting the fourth wall his bionic arm ceased up causing him to slip from the wall, causing him valuable time. Spurred on by his fall and wanting to make up time he soundly cleared the fifth wall with relative ease. But it seemed the time he saved was quickly lost on the final two walls as he slipped and struggled to clear them, thanks in part to his soaking wet uniform and the sweat pouring out of his pores. Seeing the final set of obstacles John attempted to rush through hoping to cut as much time as possible. The first set of tire tracks weren't too much trouble and he thought he would be able to finish strong. But fate had other plans for him, he slipped on the final step he took in the last set, eating a faceful of dirt. He quickly regained his footing, but the damage was already done. He fell back into formation, attempting to catch his breath before the next complete set through the obstacle course. The weight of his final time weighing heavily on him like the humid and clinging air!
Waking to the humid, absurdly hot by her standards and oppressive atmosphere due to a yelling Drill Sergeant, Elizabeth Seranos Shaw pulled herself out of her bead before waking aids such as boots and batons were applied, and despite the light and air outside being better than inside a cramp barracks there was still a sinking feeling that something unpleasant was in store for them all, despite hoping against the odds this was just a cruel joke at their expense. Finding out that they had been denied weekend pass seemed to be confirmation of her dismal feelings but she still replied "Yes Sir." After John started his run on the course, Shaw started her attempt at the Gauntlet, stagnant water in the first trench not proving to be her undoing even if her uniform ended up getting soaked with water in this awful climate. With a desire to get this over with as quickly as possible, she entered the second, third and four trench of water and wire with the same vigour as the first one, and came out of the trenches alright, as at the very least she had done her best to complete this section without making a fool of herself. Soaking from water and sweat, Seranos then headed off to the wall vaulting section of the obstacle course, with the momentum from the razor wire section aiding her ascend then descend the walls, which went rather well until the fourth wall, where a ill-placed hand nearly caused her to slip off the wall and onto her arse in the ground. Alas, that didn't stop her from barely making it past that wall on time, and managed to finish that without any further near-misses of the wall. Wanting to just get this course over with, Elizabeth rushed through the tires without falling prey to a silly failure such as tripping over and planting her face in the dirt, unlike John on the second set of tires. After passing the first and second set of tires without embarrassing mistakes being made, she fell back in formation, mood lifted slightly by her attempt at the course, even if the odds are that they'd be doing it all again... Until everyone managed to do it without failing.
Eva was laying in her bunk like everyone else was in the sweat box they called home. With her white hair plastered to her scalp by sweat and her covers shoved to one side, she tried to catch some modicum of rest before the day started. But with the crash of the door and the shouting of the Drill Sergeant the day already has begun. Waking up early in the morning wasn't an issue, she's done that most of her life back home and then with the Federation, it was doing it without any real sleep and air more akin to an aquarium! Rushed outside into the bright sunlight with the rest of them, the sight of the obstacle course greeted them while Sergeant Bakerson began his usual rant. Canceling leave wasn't surprising, but the time limit was a load of bull to her. "Sir yes sir!" She replied. John and Elizabeth went in first with her behind them. In the first set of razor wire she already fucked up, diving into the water and getting lungful of the putrid stuff through her mouth. Hacking and coughing her lungs out as she scrambled out of the first set, she grazes her back trying to get through the second set which made winced in pain and made movement a little more difficult while crawling on her stomach. Getting herself together she got through the last two razor wire 'fields' with ease. But of course that meant the walls were next. Climbing the first wall soaking wet and scratches on her back, she was able to get over the first wall with some effort. It was the second wall where things started to go even more down hill for Eva. With her hands and boots still wet, her holds on the wall kept slipping and almost made her fall off completely at times. Finally getting over the second wall and going for the third she was able to recover some time she lost earlier. But the sweat and constant arm motions were making those scratches on her back become taxing on her concentration and made her slow down close to a crawl on the next two walls alone. Using what willpower she had for her arms to cooperate she got over the second to last wall. Of course this mean she had nothing left and barely failed getting over the last wall. 'I'm going to cause everyone doing this damn thing again.' she thought bitterly to herself as she went towards the tire tracks. At least here she didn't need her arms here. The two tracks here were a breeze compared to her earlier efforts, giving her a small smile for her little victory over the last leg of the obstacle course. Heading back into formation with the others while dripping with sweat and stagnant water, she stood at attention and readied herself for the scolding that was sure to come from Bakerson and possibly her own squadmates.
Ferdinand was sleeping soundly in his bunk pretty much ignoring the hot and humid climate years of fighting in the previous war had taught him how to fall asleep in even the most uncomfortable environments. However all the experience in the world couldn't prepare him for the sudden entry of their drill sergeant whose out burst woke him imidiatly causing him to almost fall out of his bunk. It took him a few seconds to realize what was going on and he rubbed his eyes and sprung into action pulling on a pair of pants he figured were his and quickly laced up his boots and ran outside with everyone else. He wasn't too surprised to hear they lied about the weekend passes after all war was unpredictable and it was their job to prepare the green horns for war and everything it entails as much as possible but it didn't make being forced out of bed in the morning any less annoying. So he followed the formation to the obstacle course and responded to the sergeant's rant in the same manner as the rest of his squad mates. "Yes Sir!" His voice still had a distinct Alemmainian accent which he figured he would never loose no mater how long he spent his time with the locals in his squad. After Eva went in he then ran into the course completing the razor wire trenches with record time after all one doesn't forget how to crawl especially if they were a veteran of modern warfare. He then quickly good up and ran for the walls climbing over the first one quickly but ran into trouble with the second one as he struggled to reach the top as his mud drenched hands and boots slipped almost making him fall off forcing him to go slowly. The next one was a bit easier but the last three gave him trouble as his sweat made his hands slippery again. Exhausted from the walls he then went into the tire tracks slagging through the first one as his feet go stuck in more than a few of the but powering through the last one on shear adrenaline. Upon finishing he knew he hadn't made it in time as a good portion of the other squads had already made it over but irregardless he fell into formation his uniform drenched in sweat and mud from the trenches. At least he still had his dignity but he knew he was going to be doing this again until he got the right time. He supposed this was better than staying in the empire and condoning the slaughter of people just speaking their minds but this was definitely more exhausting than his old lifestyle before the war. The scar across his cheek itched at the remembering of the war but he dared not move in formation waiting for the even worse off stragglers still making their way through the course. This was going to be a long morning that much he wasn't it? He thought as the itching subsided and he continued waiting, his shaggy black hair and beard covered in mud and dripping sweat.
Mikael jumps up at shock from his sweaty slumber, heart rate shooting through the roof. He almost passes out of the sudden wake due his blood refusing to follow Drill Sergeants concept of awaken, draining from his Mikaels head. Holding his head, Mikael grunts as he is pulled from the bunk and nearly dragged outside half-dressed as tortuously loud shouting fills the barracks. The night was terrible; humid and hot, cheap bed sheets clinging to his body, bunk squeaking under him every time he turned or tossed in restless attempt for sleep. But compared to this sudden and rude waking it was pleasant. Struggling to pull boots to his feet while getting his ears shouted off, Mikael curses in his mind. He hates army. He is Alchemist, a chemist, scientist. He isn't supposed to lope around pants halfway to knees at sunrise. He isn't even from this country, this isn't his war. But whose war it is? Voice questions deep within his mind. Mikael hates that voice. The sarcastic, bitter, bitchy voice of his conscience. It loves to remind him how he was completely fine, even happy with the war raging when he was working on civilian sector. Back then it didn't matter how awful the war was, just as long the governments would pour more resources of research. Karma is a-- Mikael didn't had time to finish that though as he received full facial of vocal spit from Drill Sergeant commenting his attire. "No, Sir!" He replies and actually tries to fix his uniform within the non-existent time limit Drill Sergeant had given him. That tired and still out of it he was that he subconsciously though it would be possible. After five days of constant 'training' he was already running on auto-pilot whenever he forgot to focus on the shouting mouth at his face. Wait, five days? Weren't they supposed-- Ei helvetti... Mikaels mood sinks faster than lead sinker of fishing rod. Hope is first step to disappointment and massive vitutus. Had he really believed they would get rest? God, he hates that Drill Sergeant. Mikaels gaze turns towards the oh so familiar obstacle course their beloved Drill Sergeant had prepared for light morning exercise. Crawling, climbing, running, jumping. Sure, he had climbed on his fathers boats sails and rigging as a kid. But that was over two decades ago. He could give two hour lecture about the stale, muddy water under the razor wires or synthesize it to several different chemicals. But diving into it? If there is something more unpleasant than slimy mud crawling it way through your clothes at sunrise, Mikael doesn't want to experience it. "Private Aarnenpoika ready, Sir!" Despite all his mental protesting, he finds himself as next in the line for the obstacle course. Complete it in under 10 minutes? No changes. They are going to spend the next three hours here before marching to the provisioning center for under- or overcooked slurry, what Sergeants call 'breakfast'. As Mikael dives into the liquid filled trench, he recites dihydrogen-monoxides attributes. Escaping into world of Alchemy makes it ever so lightly less disgusting experience and he manages to crawl his way through the simulated battlements with relative few troubles. Spurting towards the walls he leaps over the first one with good pace, only to slide into the mud at the second one after loosing his footing, having mistaken the room between the walls. Pushing himself up with few motivating muttered curses, he backtracks for another attempt and sprints forth. It works till fifth wall where he nearly falls from the top, leaving him dangling till he manages to pull himself up, wasting precious time and strength. After clearing the tires and returning to formation, Mikael heaves hard. Wasn't 10 minutes. He is certain. At least it felt like twice of that. And honestly, that was the best he can pull. He feels strength leaving his body with each breath. Why didn't he studied Air? At least then he could lighten himself.
Malcom sat comfortably in his top bunk as he watched a few other men and women either sleep or do whatever they did to relax. Fanning himself with a small book he had snuck into the barracks when he first arrived he felt some small relief from the heat. That was of course before the Drill Sergeant busyed into the room and Malcom quickly hid his book beneath his pillow. "Such a dullard" Malcom muttered to himself as he watched the older man begin screaming at all the recruits within. In fact his words were how he felt about nearly every other soldier within his barracks, very few of them being intellectuals and even fewer being truly useful to society in Malcom's eyes. Leaping from his bed and landing on the floor below Malcom could feel the pressure build in his right knee, the same one that had been hit with shrapnel during the war and caused him to be a much slower man than any other in his unit. Lining up behind the others Malcom would let out an inaudible sigh as the men and women of his unit barked back towards their drill sergeant. Malcom on the other hand gave the man no confirmation that he had heard his words, simply remaining silent. Expecting to be yelled at just as he was always being Malcom simply waited, though oddly the man passed him up. Looking towards the obstacle course before him Malcom would begin moving forward. Crawling through the muck and water Malcom would move surprisingly slow, partially due to his knee, but mostly because he chose to. Malcom was not a man to risk injury and thats precisely what he was attempting to avoid. However after watching one individual get tangled up in the razor wire for a moment and get cut he noticed it had been lifted slightly. Giving Malcom a proper avenue to move through much quicker than before, even gaining ground on a few of the other men. This however was when such a pace ended as Malcom continued to move slowly through the rest of the razor wire, easily being at the very back of the unit. "Squad gets ahead, I don't die if theres a trap" Malcom muttered to himself with a chuckle. Standing from the muck Malcom would climb the first wall with a surprising amount of speed, but this was merely to see where everybody else was from the top. Continuing Malcom would inch up each of the walls, only moving as fast as the other men on the second to last. After the walls was when it came, the tires were something Malcom despised. The injury to his knee had left him less than agile and as he moved through he did so slowly, though he managed to almost make time through both of them, though he had his leg caught once or twice. Being the last man back in line Malcom would inwardly chuckle as his entire unit seemed to look back at him with anger and disgust. They were petty creatures, angry that they would be forced to do more work, though if they would have been listening to the Sergeant they'd know that they would be doing it again regardless. Malcom however couldn't deny that his lungs burned and his muscles ached, he even somewhat had regret for moving so slowly, for perhaps he could have finished on time if he had pushed himself.
Errmanno sprung out of bed already half dressed at the drill sergeant barging in. His rifle was in his hands before he even landed from his top bunk. This man had already been through this drill a few times so without a word he through on the rest of his uniform and join the rest of the ranks of soldiers. When he looked across the field he used his hand to shield his eyes as he surveyed it. He shook his head as the others of the squad made their way through. Greenhorns he thought, except for Liz, that girl flew through the course. He chuckled to himself an then drew a quick circle around himself before getting started. The wind kicked up around him and started blowing at his back to make his way a tad easier. He wasn't going to allow anyone show him up. When his turn was up he dived under the razor wire and crawled. He was making steady time, it was obvious that he wasn't a stranger to this particular exercise. Saying he was enjoying the exercise would be a stretch but he wasn't hating it nor the sunny hot weather as the others were. The water under the razor wire kept him cool as he made it to the series of walls. There the water was a slight hinder to his way but thanks to his skills in the air alchemy he was still having a light breeze to his back. Over the seven walls wasn't easy but again not a challenge to him. He kept razor focus on the task at hand and his sharp eyesight kept him aware of potential pitfalls before he hit them. Last was the tire part of the course. He was cool and even starting to dry as he did this part of the course. He finished easily under the 10 mins, not as quick as some of the others but definitely one of the top finishers. He was prepared for this to go on again when he fell back in for this was a common tactic in basic. He wish he hadn't been called off the line so he could learn how to work with yet another squad but orders were orders. At least the recall of weekend pass recall wasn't a surprise to him. Back in line with an easy breath he watched the rest of his fellows with a critical eye to see how to best help them trough as they started to tire and be more open to seeing actual teamwork instead of everyone's individual abilities.
Emile was used to waking early so he frankly wasnt too bothered but he wasnt too happy to be taken and thrown from his bed by the seargeant's aides , he muttered a sailors curse under his breath .Emile was futher disappointed that they'd lost their weekend pass. He wasnt overly bothered about the humidity, not too different then his time at sea. He then proceeded to start the obstacle course. He got stuck in the razor wire as he struggled in the water, it took him a bit of time to untangle himself . He made it through the second razor wire without issue. Emile scaled the walls without issue , just like dealing with rigging on the ship ; well sort of , Emile felt a pang in his heart remembering his time as a youth aboard his fathers ship. His thoughts distractiong him Enile went through the tires stumbling along and only after a fall did he come to his senses fully and get back to training hoping he didnt screw up too badly he prefered is breakfast before noon.
Watching the recruits fail in almost every case, Sergeant Bakersons knuckles were almost bone white even through the leather gloves he was wearing as he grasped the field glasses tighter and tighter every time someone failed. After the hundredth time he finally surrendered by slamming the delicate viewing glasses into the wooden base of the viewing tower that he, and several other officers inhabited enticing a flurry of smirks and knowing glares. Despite a few outshining examples, the group before them was in a very sorry state and would most likely not be able to live up to the name of the United Defense Force, but then what else could be expected from the Militia...they weren't as proud or well trained as the Regulars. Sighing heavily as he leaned back, running the gloved hand through thin ropes of sweat locked hair to take advantage of what little breeze swept in from the sea, Sergeant Bakerson was at least a little surprised that at least a few recruits showed promising aspirations. He had already informed his second, Corporal Racier to keep a close eye on Recruits Shaw and Errmanno for possible promotion to Lancepesade if they could live up to the name. Finally, after almost thirty minutes as the last recruit collapsed back in formation, more or less looking like a corpse, Sergeant Bakerson sighed deeply again. Climbing down from the observation towers worn wooden ladder, he jumped the last six feet to land heavily creating a deep imprint on the grounds surface, more so than should be humanly possible and marched towards the weary ranks. As he approached, he started to reprimand those recruits who he had seen as weak on the course, each one being set upon by (attack) sergeants and corporals who viciously beat them back into formation while continuing an unending storm of verbal bombardment powerful enough to make the dead turn in their sleep. It wasn't long before he was before the recruits once again on the jeep and once again spoke before them. "I've seen the Empires shit move faster than you lot. Get back at it again faster this time! The last fifty back are going to have latrine duty for the next week across the entire base! DO YOU GET ME!? NOW MOVE IT LADIES!" Several recruits, already exhausted seemed to resign themselves to their fate as they collapsed in tired heaps that no matter of physical encouragement from the drill sergeants seemed to motivate while even more were barely moving, their bodies showing extreme exhaustion from the multitude of lacerations suffered in the razor wire trenches or fatigue brought on by scaling the walls. To make matters worst, several of the walls were now being generously doused with engine grease making footholds treacherous and two machine guns were being moved into position by the razor wire. As the first recruits attempted to crawl under the razor wire, the first machine gun opened fire stitching the air dangerously close above the wire lines with tracer rounds which seared afterimages across those that looked into their path and whistled overhead too close for comfort. Progress was slowed dramatically as several began to ball up and simply stop moving causing those behind to either turn back around to enter through a different lane or push those too slow back towards the beginning. ________________________________________________________________ All Obstacles now have the standard penalty towards them (-20) for razor wire, (-15) for wall vaults and (-5) for tires. Use the TDT once again for rolls. Failing an obstacle will now severely slow you down and failing the wall vaults will cause minor injury.
