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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 18, 2008 23:03:33 GMT -5
Adrian quietly withdrew from the window he spied through, still focused on being as stealthy as possible. It takes a special kind of stupid to talk out loud within earshot of people you were trying to kill, so he fell back as far as around the corner, until he could no longer hear the badly played strums of the guitar over the pounding downpour. “Okay,” he whispered into his PDA, “I’ve got two men in a bunk bed and four on the floor. That’s six targets, repeat: six targets. Please confirm and give me five seconds to reposition. Over.” He paused, waiting for Volk’s response. After Volk confirmed the situation, Adrian slipped the PDA back into his left pocket and crept back to his window. He remained under the window, tensed and ready to spring up when the time was right. He ran through his plan mentally, preparing for the instant he would strike: He would stand hunched by the window, whipping up his pistol and bringing it to bear on the nearest floored enemy. With only eight shots and six men right in front of him, he had to make every shot count. He would put one round into the first man, than quickly readjust and fire at the next, and the next, and the next. His goal was to leave as many men lifeless before the others could react. But regardless of how many were dead, the instant the enemy tried to return fire, he would duck below cover and quickly shift position to the left to a random, different window. He knew that if he popped up from cover in the same spot, the bandits would be waiting and certainly shoot him. By changing position, he could catch them by surprise. When he did, it would be a true shootout, with both him and the bandits trying to take aim and fire before their opponent. The advantage would go to Adrian, however, because he would know where to aim while the bandits would be confused as to where he was shooting from. He would continue this pattern of fire, relocate, and reengage until the room was cleared, then he would jump easily through an open window and put a round in the head of anyone who was not obviously dead. If there was any doubt, they’d get a bullet. He would rely on staying calm and precise in his aiming, swift and decisive in his movements, and unhesitating in his actions. It would all be over quickly. They wouldn’t have a chance. Adrenaline began to flow through him now as Adrian waited for the raid to begin. He calmed himself, steeled his mind for what was about to happen, and let out an inaudible sigh, indistinguishable from the sound of the rain. In the darkness, his eyes flashed with determination. He was ready.
POST SUMMARY: Fall back behind corner; Radio Volk with sitrep; Take position beneath window; Mentally plan attack; Wait for raid to start
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Post by E-Stalin [Orthrus] on Dec 19, 2008 23:59:43 GMT -5
25th of December, 2008. 00:43 Chernobyl Exclusion Zone: Duty Faction Base
Sergei stepped into his personal office and kicked the door shut with his foot. He flicked on the ceiling lamp on the move and shuffled over to his desk, a curl of smoke rising from the cigarette between his teeth. One of the few times he ever smoked anymore. He was carrying a heavy metal briefcase, shut with a padlock, and he dropped it onto the wooden desk with a heavy thud. After locking the door behind him, he dropped onto the chair with a quiet groan and leaned back.
His office was a small room, maybe the size of a few closets put together, and furnished almost entirely out of wood. Many buildings (that were still in decent shape) in the Zone were either brick or metal, and Sergei's office was no exception, but he'd lined the place with old dark wood and furniture. Only the door remained untouched, a heavy steel one. The floor and walls were lined with wood paneling, and a single dim yellow lamp illuminated the room like a fireplace might. There were no windows. The only furniture consisted of a small and cozy bed, a wooden desk, and an old rickety chair. A small refrigerator sat under the desk, right next to a bolted down safe. Against the wall was a rack with several rifles and shotguns leaning against it, over a smaller rack that held several holstered pistols, next to drawers that held equipment and other various items, as well as Serge's equivalent of a wardrobe: a very small closet. His desk was crowded with papers and miscellaneous items. A homemade pipe bomb was lying next to a second, unfinished one. It was a typical zone shelter, and a relatively luxurious one.
Sergei stretched, wincing slightly at the pain in his shoulder, and relaxed. He scooted forward in his seat and switched on the tape player. Slightly static laced music came on, an old march. There March The Soldiers, Red Army Choir. Sergei raised the cigarette and quietly muttered, "Merry Christmas." Biting back down on the paper tube, he reached over and pulled open a drawer, removing a can of compressed air spray, for cleaning video cassettes. After shoving the papers out of the way, he leaned over the briefcase, turned the can upside down, and started spraying the lock. Almost instantly a white frost formed over the padlock, crystallizing on where the compressed air sprayed. Sergei kept spraying as the padlock completely iced over, turning it and the metal around it snow white, and maybe sixty seconds later the can ran out of air. Sergei tossed it into a waste basket, and stood up, moving back to his bed. From underneath it, he withdrew a crowbar. It had, at some point, been pointed red. Most of the paint had flaked off now. A single bash against the joint of the padlock and the brittle metal fractured, a piece of steel flying away. Sergei removed the remnants of the padlock and turned the briefcase around, so that it was facing away from him. Then he looked away while covering his face with his forearm, and opened the lid.
26th of April, 6:50 Cordon: F10, Bandit Camp
Volk press his hand against his ear, straining his senses to drown out the combined sound of rain, thunder, and music. The message was laced with static. There was no radio network in the Zone. There was one major receiver and transmitter, and a few individual ones set up by factions. PDA systems and radios all operated by GLONASS, the Russian equivalent of the United States GPS. During a full blown thunderstorm, it was a technological miracle that any signal functioned at all. Parts of words were drowned out, but Volk got the message in full, courtesy in part by the repeat. He brought his mic as close to his mouth as possible, cupping it with his hands to mask his breath as well, "If they're asleep, can you get in there and kill them quietly? If you can't, forget it. Take up position by the back wall, and when we move, shoot as many as you can. The moment they react, hit the ground and get out of there. Do not stay there or keep shooting. After a few moments get down anyway, we'll be clearing the room. Respond, respond."
Waiting for a response, Volk lowered his hands and lifted the shotgun (Over-Under Breech Action) and placed the sling over his head, letting it hang down his chest. He pushed the lever to the side with his thumb and opened the action, confirming that it was loaded. He slid one cartridge out of it's chamber, fumbling it with his frozen fingers, and examined it by the dim firelight. The only thing printed on it was a white number 4. He slid the cartridge back into the chamber and shut the breech, insuring that the safety was still off. Some hunting shotguns automatically reset to safe when the breech was opened. Holding the shotgun in both hands, he leaned back against the wall and breathed deeply, steeling himself. He lifted his hand up in a half sign language and mouthed, "Get ready." The man opposite him nodded, and turned to his partner. Volk turned to Vasyl, leaning in close to the man's ear. "All right, here's how this works. When we're ready, Sasha and Yurah will deal with the North building, forget about that. Now, when the thunder rolls, I and the guy across from me will move at the same time. We step around the corners and immediately move into the room, shoot, and strafe to the sides along the walls, clearing up room for you two to move in behind us. You two will finish off any of the four we miss. We should never stop moving, the moment we move in the four men there should be down, at which point we move to the far wall and clear the second room, hopefully before anyone even gets up. You got all that?"
------------------ Adrian is all clear to engage the targets with as much stealth as possible. If he decides not to in interest of self preservation, he's ordered to pick off as many targets there as possible once the entry team moves in, and then hit the deck. Vasyl will move in as Volk's direct back up, in sync with the two men on the opposite side of the hole.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 20, 2008 8:43:28 GMT -5
Vasyl nodded. "Yeah, I got that." He knew what to do, he was ready to go. He ran through the instructions mentally a few times, 'When we're ready, Sasha and Yurah will deal with the North building, forget about that. Now, when the thunder rolls, I and the guy across from me will move at the same time. We step around the corners and immediately move into the room, shoot, and strafe to the sides along the walls, clearing up room for you two to move in behind us. You two will finish off any of the four we miss. We should never stop moving, the moment we move in the four men there should be down, at which point we move to the far wall and clear the second room, hopefully before anyone even gets up.' Vasyl thought it over step by step. He had never really done a raid before, but this seemed like the most logical way to do it. After all, these guns didn't have silencers and it wasn't like the other targets were 4 miles away. He readied every muscle in his body for when the lightning struck, so that he could be ready to attack.
Tells Volk he's got it; Mentally goes over plan; Prepares for the upcoming attack.
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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 20, 2008 23:39:51 GMT -5
“Confirmed, Volk,” Adrian responded over the radio. “I’ll take up position and wait for your go. Over.” Adrian slipped the PDA back into his left pocket and crept back to his window. He doubted that any of the restless sleepers inside could be stealthily eliminated without alerting the rest of the bandits, and he did not wish to screw up Volk’s operation. Besides, while he assumed Volk himself was capable enough not to shoot him by mistake, Adrian was not willing to expose himself to friendly fire from the other novices. Now he stood up, slowly rising beside the window, sliding against the slick wall. He leaned to the right just enough so that he could barely see inside out of the corner of his eye. He clutched his PM with both hands at his waist, his left cupped under his right to support and stabilize his aim when he’d snap it up. He let the rain wash over him as he stood there, still as a statue in the rain-swept darkness of the night. There was nothing in existence, nothing at all, except the men inside and the gun in his hands. Suddenly, coming with the next rolling boom of thunder, came the unmistakable sounds of the other men bursting into action. That was the signal! Adrian grit his teeth and popped around the window, his pistol thrusting out at the resting bandits. His sights fell squarely on the upper torso of his targets. He double-tapped each of the four men on the floor, going straight down the line, The flash of his muzzle blinking harsh, angry illumination into the room. BANG BANG!!! BANG BANG!!! BANG BANG!!! BANG BANG!!! The quick, dual pull of the trigger sent two rounds into each bandit, the concussive force of which would send lethal vibrations disrupting their bodies, even in the event that the shots themselves did not immediately end their lives. The double-tap was a deadly technique used by professionals to swiftly and decisively kill an enemy combatant. Adrian performed his shots rapidly, with a steady and unforgiving aim. The fourth bandit had actually begun to rise in alarm, but was helpless as the final pair of bullets found their mark in his back. His magazine was empty in roughly four seconds. Having discharged all his shots, Adrian dived away from the window, hitting the ground with a crisp shoulder roll. He rolled to his feet effortlessly by the corner of the building, where he crouched around, pressing his back to the wet brick. Without pausing, his thumb mashed the clip release, letting the spent magazine drop out of the butt of the weapon. He let it fall into his lap, where he grabbed it and stuffed it into one of his cargo pants’ many pockets. He snatched his spare magazine from its slot on his thigh holster. He slid it up into the butt of his gun with a sharp smack, loading it. Only now did he begin to let out deep breaths, letting the adrenaline rush through him. He stayed down, listening as gunshots rang out in the night, and flashes like lightning lit up the camp.
POST SUMMARY: Radio Volk with response; Position self beside back window; At the signal, double-tap the four bandits on the ground; Dive away and take cover around corner; Reload pistol; Stay down
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Post by E-Stalin [Orthrus] on Dec 21, 2008 1:21:25 GMT -5
Volk nodded his head in response to Adrian, even though the man wouldn't see it. He turned and lifted his hand up high. A guy by the North building brought his hand up in confirmation, and Volk turned back to the hole and reached up to the sling around his neck, slipping it off his head. He might need to drop the shotgun without it getting in the way. He adjusted his grip on the shotgun, and waited. The rain continued to patter down on them, dripping from his bangs, rolling down his face. He didn't move at all, remaining still as his heart rate sped up, beating hard against his ribcage with the rising adrenaline. He breathing quickened and his grip on the shotgun tightened. Someone was playing beethoven on the guitar. Volk couldn't recall the name of the piece anymore, his thinking wasn't wide open right then. And then there was a bright flash of white light as lightning flared. He hissed to Vasyl, "Get ready." A few seconds later, the thunder boomed.
Instantly Volk spun around the corner of the wall, lifting the shotgun. His eyes registered the four men. Three around the fire. Two with their back to him, one facing him. The fourth leaning against the far wall, shotgun by his hand. Volk brought the stock to his shoulder, hardly even sighting down the barrel as he aimed at the guy facing him and fired. Instantly the mans head was blown backward, his body snapping back with the shot pellets and falling to the ground in a mist of pink blood. Volk did not stop moving, immediately strafing to his left along the inside wall as his partner moved in on the right. Three shots were fired in rapid succession. Volk saw that the first missed. The second two buried themselves into one guys back, who uttered a strangled groan of pain as he fell forward. Volk was already adjusting his aim, sighting down at the man at the back wall, who was already grabbing his own shotgun.
--- Sasha waited along in front of the metal door, standing to Yurah's side and a little behind him. Yurah was crouched down low, both hands extended and aiming the Makarov straight at the door. They waited, and when the thunder cracked Sasha acted immediately. He delivered one solid kick to the door, just above the handle, and it slammed open, revealing two men sitting at a table with a lantern between them. Yurah aimed and fired in smooth succession. He shot the man on the left in the chest once. Waited half a second, fired again. Then swept his aim to the right, fired. Adjusted his aim, fired. Neither man ever got out of their chair. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Combat has commenced. Two men in the frontal room are down. The one sitting by the fire has not reacted well, but the one at the back wall is already grabbing a shotgun. Vasyl is good to go behind Volk, and has 20 action points available. Don't get ahead of yourself, and move with the entry team. Adrian got back unharmed, and no one in the back room even stood up. Whether they didn't hear the shots or simply haven't reacted yet is anyone's guess.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 21, 2008 9:43:54 GMT -5
Vasyl jumped out behind Volk, his gun already pointed forward with the sights aligned so the center of his vision was exactly where the bullet would land. He lined up the sight at the man with the shotgun, and fired. He waited half a second to see if his shot had hit, then he would shoot again at this man, then a half second after that, he fired the Makarov one more time at the man, before adjusting his sights to the one remaining man by the fire. He would follow Volk as closely as he could, making sure to take a secondary note of anything happening near him so he could take care of it. Vasyl strafed just next to Volk, making sure to stay exactly 5 feet to his side at all times as he fired. The water dripped down into his buzz-cut hair and rolled around his eyes and down his nose, but between the noise of the bullet fire and the adrenaline pumping through his trained body, he couldn't have felt it if he tried. His boots strafed quickly along the rocky soil, sending up a small spatter of water with each step. He would fire, a half second after aligning his sights, at the last of the men.
Aimed and fired at the man with the shotgun three times, a half second apart, keeping 5 feet from Volk while strafing, then he would fire at the man by the fire once.
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Post by E-Stalin [Orthrus] on Dec 21, 2008 21:35:13 GMT -5
The first bullet struck the bandit in the shoulder, punching through the black leather and burying itself into his flesh. He dropped the shotgun, clutching a hand to his arm as an inarticulate groan came from clenched teeth. The second bullet hit him in the chest and he stumbled back without a sound, just as Volk pulled the trigger on the shotgun. The birdshot visibly struck him like a wall, knocking him over. At the same time the second man on the right emptied two rounds into the fourth mans back. He fired a third round a few moments later.
Volk dropped the shotgun without breaking stride. It clattered to the rotting wood planks under his feet and he briskly jogged up to the back wall, drawing his own Makarov on the move. The back wall was solid red brick, and on the right side of it was the empty door frame. Volk got up by the empty space in the wall, waited a half second for another man to get by his side, and spun around the corner, lifting the Makarov. He could see the outline of one man standing, details obscured by the darkness, and fired, just as someone else behind him opened fire as well. There was a choked shout as the outline doubled over and then collapsed as he was shot again.
---------------------------------------- The four men by the fire are down, though whether they're all dead or not is not certain. Only one person in the back room has gotten up so far, and he got hit several times by more than one person. It is unknown to the entry team who's alive or not, so it's safer to nail everyone in the room. So far no one has been hurt, and it's gone smoothly.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 21, 2008 21:45:53 GMT -5
Vasyl ran up, his steel-toed boots creaking against the wooden planks, to the back wall, stabbing the man who had been sitting by the fire; the man without the shotgun; in the throat, with a quick drawing motion from his knife and then he would put it back in his sheath. When he got to the back wall, he would pick up the shotgun, checking to see if it was loaded. If it was, he would put his Makarov in his holster and bring that up to his shoulder. If not, he would hold onto it with his left hand, holding the Makarov in his right, and strafe sideways to cover Volk. His aiming position would adapt to better suit his new needs while holding the shotgun. Vasyl would hold the shotgun next to his thigh, aiming down the sights of the Makarov with his right arm extended perpendicular to his body and the sights lined up once again in his center of vision, his body turned to the side to provide a smaller target and his finger extended along the side of the gun just above the trigger to prevent accidental fire. If aiming with the shotgun (because he had found it to be loaded) he would look down the sights, lining them up in his center of vision.
Stabbed the man by the fire in the throat (Better safe than sorry); Picked up the dead man's shotgun, checked to see if it was loaded; Adapted a firing position based upon that information.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 21, 2008 23:06:23 GMT -5
Seeing that the shotgun was in fact loaded, Vasyl would hold the Baikal with the sights aligned in the center of his vision, their gray metal lines put just so in his vision, staring down the hard iron barrel. Looking around the corner, he would see if anyone was in the small courtyard between buildings. Seeing nobody, Vasyl began following Volk with the shotgun pointed to the left of the more experienced Stalker's shoulder. He stayed to the left of Volk so a spray of buckshot from his weapon wouldn't hit the man he was trying to protect for this raid. He smiled to himself at the feel of the shotgun. It felt good to have something with a bit more stopping power in his hands.
Align sights on shotgun; Check courtyard for people; Follow Volk to his left. Enjoy Shotgun.
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Post by E-Stalin [Orthrus] on Dec 21, 2008 23:46:33 GMT -5
For Future Reference: When you make a search for example, a gun, and pick it up, I'll message you the details on what you picked up. Now, since you won't know the specifics of that weapon until you pick it up, you can tell me the details of your action in the message. For example, a certain shotgun has a loaded chamber indicator, but you won't know that until I tell you what it is, and therefore you'll have to check it by racking the action and ejecting one cartridge. To avoid these things, you can say "Checked to see if it was loaded" in your post and tell me the details in PM once I tell you what you grabbed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The door at the back wall led straight into the back room, where Adrian had already shot almost everyone in the room. No one could see this though, and the final moments of the battle turned chaotic. It was dark and Volk couldn't see well, just saw the faint outlines of objects that were lit by dim firelight. Vasyl and Alex were behind him, and Alex was already shooting as well. Volk shifted his aim as the standing man toppled and emptied round after round into every man he saw, all of which were lying on the ground. Barely a second in, he saw someone sit up in their bunk, throwing their blanket to the ground, and Alex emptied at least four rounds into him. The man fell out of his bunk and hit the floor with a dull crack just as Volk's Makarov ran empty. He subconsciously counted the rounds he fired, and he knew when all nine shots had been fired even without seeing the slide lock back. He immediately crouched down and waved his hand forward, "Go." Alex moved past him, and the room was suddenly deathly quiet. Volk heard a dull ringing in his ears as he reloaded the Makarov, depressing the catch at the base of the magazine well and pulling the mag out with his fingers. He let it fall to the floor as he loaded in a fresh one and hit the slide release with his thumb. He did all this without looking down, keeping his eye on the room and Alex. Nothing was moving. He stood up, "All right?" He fumbled in his jacket pocket as Alex looked around in the dark, "Looks like it..."
Volk pulled a plastic flashlight out of his pocket and jerked his head, "Back."
Alex backpedaled next to him as Volk switched on the flash light, painting the back room in white illumination. Nothing. The men were all dead. At least they all looked dead, but no one was trembling or groaning in pain. Alex stepped forward, keeping his PM slightly raised. He looked from side to side, nudging a guy with his foot. He let out a deep sigh and said in a funny voice, "It's clear."
Volk sighed, breathing deeply as his heart still pounded against his rib cage. He took another deep breath, trying to calm down the heavy anxiety sitting around in his chest, and then he turned around. He saw Vasyl, saw Simon behind him, and quickly asked, "Everyone all right?" The answer being quiet obvious, he stepped past them, handing his flashlight to Vasyl and muttered, "Hold on a moment."
Volk jogged across the first room and stepped outside into the rain, looking back at the North building. He was met with a hearty wave from Sasha, and he brought his own arm up high. Then he stepped around the corner and looked around through the rain. Nothing. Raising his voice he called out, shortened Adrian's name, "Hey Andrei!"
---------------------------------------- Your first firefight is over, and you can now consider your "tutorial" to really be over. This was an easy raid, and it went well. You're now free to do what you like in the world, whether it's to push North or head back to Sidirovich. Once everyone is accounted for, the raid party will settle down for a break and rest. Which means removal of the bodies and searching the place before settling down. Anyone who wants to is free to head off on their own, but they're welcome to stay and rest here. So regroup, search around, check up on your gear, and I sincerely hope that you've all had fun so far.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 22, 2008 3:33:04 GMT -5
Vasyl heard the all clear, and went over to one of the bunks. He sat down on the filthy mattress, and began examining every minute detail of his new weapon. He needed to make sure he knew how this thing was operated. He clicked what he assumed was the safety, the button with the red line next to it, to the right before he began his little inspection. Once the man was done playing with his new toy, he looked around. Spotting Adrian, he walked over to him. "Hey, Adrian, look what the Tooth Fairy put under my pillow instead of a quarter man." he said, gesturing towards the shotgun he had slung over his shoulder. Looking around the bandit camp that would no longer be occupied by them, he ran one finger along the stock of his weapon. "Well, looks like we're going to be heading back to the main camp now, get a new bit of work. Sidirivoch said something about a pickle jar..."
Examine weapon; Turn Safety off; Show Adrian the Shotgun; Suggest they head back.
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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 22, 2008 17:11:01 GMT -5
After the sound of battle had faded into the gentle patter of the rain, Adrian risked another peek through the window. The bandits were dead, and his fellow raiders were settling down within the run down brick building. He heard voices, as well as what he assumed to be his own name. He grinned to himself, it was all over and everyone was all right. He vaulted through the windowsill into the back room, finding Vasyl resting on the bunk, apparently pleased with himself. Adrian smiled as he was introduced to the shotgun, but shook his head in response to Vasyl’s recommendation that they head back. “Hold on for a bit, there’s just a few things I’d like to check out first.” He said as he pulled his bandana from his clean-shaven skull. He twisted the black fabric and rung it out on the floor, the amount of water that squeezed out was surprising. He let out a long sigh of relief as he pulled it back over his head. “We did good.” he said, letting the tension flow out of him. “Nice job everyone.” Adrian set his Makarov to the “safe” position and shoved it into its holster at his thigh. He stared down at the bodies resting lifelessly on the dirty floor, spatters of blood like patterns of shadow in the darkness. He squatted down beside a corpse with detached interest. This body was once a man, but now that it was dead, Adrian had a hard time envisioning it as anything other than just a bag of meat. Without remorse, he began to scavenge the bodies for useful items. He dug through their pockets, their clothes, their makeshift beddings. Every weapon, every decent item of clothing, piece of gear, interesting object… He stuffed it all into his rucksack. Then he examined the room itself. These guys should have packs of gear just like other Stalkers, and Adrian bet that they’d sleep with their stuff close. He swept the room, looking for backpacks or pouches, rifles resting nearby, anything else he could get his hands on. He grabbed any rucksacks or backpacks, then slung those over his own back. “Come on,” he said to Vasyl. “I’m starving. Let’s grab a bite from our rations by the warm fire. We can rest up, maybe wait out the storm. Sidirivoch can wait. Not like the guy promised you any reward anyway, right? We can help Volk clean up the bodies and rest up before we set off again.” After securing all his findings, Adrian proceeded to drag one of the bodies outside by his feet. He dumped it out in the rain, then returned for another one. Finishing the clean-up work, he sat with Vasyl beside the flickering fire. He ripped open his rations. Chewing a biscuit, he made a face at the rest of his meal’s contents. “Care for my salmon?” he asked Vasyl, dangling the pinkish strip in front of his face. “I don’t like fish” Adrian studied his salvaged goods as he ate, checking over everything he found. As he worked, he began to think absent-mindedly about what to do next.
POST SUMMARY: Enter camp; talk to Vasyl; search the back room for anything and everything; Take all findings; Clean out the bodies; Sit by the fire and eat partial rations; Offer Vasyl his fish; Examine new gear
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 22, 2008 17:56:10 GMT -5
Vasyl shrugged. "Sounds good to me, man." The man took the fish, swallowing it down quickly. He smiled. "Well, I can't say its the best salmon I've ever had, but it does win an award for being the worst." Vasyl pulled his rations out of his pack, taking out his salmon as well. He ate it down, licking his lips. "Nope, I take that back, THAT was the worst salmon I've ever had." He began downing the rest of the meal, preparing it as he went, when lightning cracked again overhead. He yawned as the thunder rolled through. "Pretty bad storm, eh?" he said, finishing the last of his meal. He had eaten it quicker than a dog. When Vasyl finished, he took the small box of ammunition out of his jacket, sitting under the roof, and turned the safety off on his gun. Taking the magazine out, he slowly began refilling it. 'Never know when you're gonna need all your ammo.' he thought to himself. After putting in the last new round, he slammed the magazine back into the gun, clicked the safety back off, and slid it into his holster. Tucking the ammo-box back into his inner jacket pocket, he clicked it shut, and leaned back against a nearby bed, relaxing while the torrential downpour and cracks of thunder drowned out the crackling of the warm camp fire.
Ate Adrian's salmon; Ate own rations; Clicked Safety on; took magazine out; refilled it; put it back in; clicked safety off again; tucked Makarov back into jacket; Relaxed
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Post by E-Stalin [Orthrus] on Dec 22, 2008 22:43:40 GMT -5
Volk crouched down by one body and sighed, staring off into space for a few moments. Not once did he think about the man himself. There was a kind of click in his mind, the same click that surgeons felt before they sliced open a mans torso. That click was what allowed people to do things like this without vomiting, they dehumanized what they were doing. Couldn’t afford to think about the man and his life or kids or wife or hopes. It was much easier to avoid it and then try to forget it. He flipped open the bodies coat and pulled the bandit’s Makarov out of its holster. He removed the magazine and ejected a round from the chamber, then set the empty pistol aside. Around him, any weapons on the bandits were being similarly unloaded. It was no good to be walking around with a bunch of loaded pistols under your feet.
“All right, ready? One, two and lift.”
Volk and Alex lifted the last body in a classic carry, one grabbing under the armpits and the other getting the legs. The two awkwardly stepped out into the rain and dumped the body on top of the others by the fence, and hurriedly stepped inside again. Several hundred meters away, Kochevnik stood up and cracked stretched his neck. With the last body out of the way, his job was over. Packing up anything he’d taken out, the man let the SVD hang over his shoulders and walked off through the rain. It was time to pay his old friend a visit.
26th of April, 7:12 Cordon: F10, Bandit Camp
The Stalkers were sitting around the campfire, which had been bolstered with some more wood. After cleaning off the guitar, Sasha had truck up a tune, and as the wind whirled outside, the people inside had stripped off much of their soaked clothes and left them by the fire. Volk had failed to contact Sidirovich through the storm, and decided to wait a bit before heading back to notify him of the result. People were loading magazines, eating, and trying to relax as much as possible. There was a pile of Makarov Pistols and empty magazines by the wall, everything they’d gotten off the bandits. It totaled up to fourteen pistols, thirty two magazines, and several boxes of ammo, some of them full and many of them partially empty. The natural way of things in this kind of work was simple, those who picked up something first generally got to keep it. Anything extra was stocked up and people were free to take what they needed, but Vasyl had gotten his Baikal shotgun during the fight, and therefore it was pretty much his. When Vasyl just sat down, Volk found him and gave him a box of shells found in the jacket of the Baikal’s original owner. Magazines found were split up through the group, boxes of ammunition were distributed as well. In the end, everyone who had participated was just as a vital part of the operation as everyone else. Just because one person had been up front and aggressive didn’t mean he deserved anymore than a backup sniper did. The second marksman (Shinok) had come up as well, completely soaked and shivering, grabbed a bite to eat, and left. Volk asked him to drop by and tell Sidirovich how things had gone. Someone produced a plastic bottle of vodka, and since they didn’t have glasses, it just went around. The guys continued on through the morning as the storm slowly began to subside.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The storm is beginning to subside. It’s still raining, but the dark clouds have cleared up and the morning outside is well lit. The sky is still overcast with white fog, but it’s a fresh morning and clearly visible. Stalkers have been provided with a fair share of gear found, though many specific items belong to the person that got them, which will be noted in sent inventory updates. You’re free to do what you wish.
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 23, 2008 10:34:43 GMT -5
Vasyl looked over all of the new gear that had been distributed to him, from the shotgun and Makarov ammunition to the Artesian Water and Military rations. He smirked to himself, organizing it into his pack so he'd be able to find something at quick notice. He took a swig of the Artesian water from one of his bottles before sticking it back in the bag, looking at all he hadn't put back in the bag, the 4 unloaded Makarov magazines, and the three boxes of 9X18mm ammunition. He filled each of the pistol magazines up to full capacity, emptying his first box swiftly and moving on to the second. He took the ammunition box he had emptied into his hand, looking it over in his palm. Then, he crushed it, and threw it to the side. He didn't plan on needing it again. He put the 4 loaded magazines in the same pocket he had his backup magazine from when they had first gotten here. It felt really distant to him, as though this was as entirely different lifetime. Back then, he had been Vasyl, the hired gun looking for a new job. Now, he felt more like Vasyl the Stalker, and he thought to himself he liked that feeling a little better. He took out the box of 12 gauge ammunition, and filled the shotgun up the rest of the way. He stretched halfway through, realizing just how stiff he was. After having filled all of his weapons up, he muttered to himself "Damn, I need something to eat." He looked into his bag again, taking out one of the bandit's military rations. It looked like it was a lot better than the crap they gave them at base camp. He took out his knife, cutting open the outer seal and opening the box, and re-sheathed the knife into his boot before looking over his meal. He took out one of the army crackers, and tasted it. It was great, a banquet compared to the issued stuff! He quickly dug in to the first ration, eating it down with a finish of tea and the pork. He didn't eat some of it, namely the drink concentrate and sugar. Packing everything he hadn't eaten, including the can opener and ration heater, into his pack, he dumped the trash on the ground. This was a nuclear wasteland, there was no need not to litter. Vasyl got up, walking over to the wall where the pistols and things were lying around, then he turned back to Volk. "Hey, Volk, would it be okay if I took an extra from the wall? I have a feeling I'm going to be needing it soon." Waiting for Volk's reply, he looked over the bandit's stuff. A bunch of standard-issue Makarov pistols, some magazines that hadn't been distributed, and that was about it. It was like the armory at Toys R' Us. Vasyl looked over at Volk, pack around his shoulder and shotgun held over his chest, as he spoke.
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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 23, 2008 14:43:00 GMT -5
As Adrian examined his stuff, he was very exited about the SKS carbine he had claimed. The AK’s predecessor had the same reputation for ruggedness, simplicity, and reliability as the newer rifle, with some unique qualities that Adrian considered fascinating. First of all, the carbine did not use the 30-round magazine clips like modern assault rifles. Instead, it had a ten-round integrated magazine that was fed from the top of the weapon with curving metal tools called stripper clips. He did not have any, so Adrian had to load it by hand. Digging into the plastic bag he discovered, he pulled out a box of 7.62x39mm ammunition and opened it. To his surprise, he only found five bullets rolling around inside. He shrugged, assuming that the previous owner must have enjoyed the rifle as much as he did. Adrian grabbed a second box from his collection, and removed another five rounds. With his ten bullets at hand, he turned his attention back to the rifle. He pulled off the receiver cover from the top of the SKS, followed by sliding out the bolt and bolt carrier, and lifted out the barrel, leaving a hollow groove in the butt stock. He swabbed everything over with a rag he had picked up, just to make sure that it was decently cleaned. He had no idea how the previous owner had treated it, but it looked to be in fine working order. He simply reversed this previous process, sliding the bolt and bolt cover back on, then, with a little effort, snapped the receiver cover back into place. Adrian then proceeded to pull back the charging handle, opening the gun so he could insert his ammo. He slid all ten rounds inside, then closed everything back up, the first round chambered and ready to go. He made sure that the safety was on, and, immensely satisfied, set the weapon aside. Next, he opened the hard plastic case he found, and, to his delight, revealed the TT-33 (Tokarev) pistol and it’s two magazines inside. He fumbled around his gear… he knew he had two boxes of 7.62x25mm ammo somewhere… It was a marvel that the handgun could pack a rifle-sized punch. He knew that the big plastic bag with 7.62x39 ammunition boxes had to be for the SKS, so he had wondered what use the other rounds were for. Now he knew. He filled both magazines, and inserted one into the TT-33. He noted that it, like the Makarov PM, only contained eight rounds, but the difference in penetration and stopping power was the key difference. Adrian shuffled over to the pile of salvaged bandit weapons by the wall and selected for himself an extra PM and two holsters, as well as a pistol belt, a gear harness, and several pouches. Retuning to his spot at the fire, he took off his jacket and set it aside by the fire to dry, His sleeveless shirt revealing the large tattoo that scrolled down his left arm. He put on and adjusted the harness to fit comfortably tight and secure, then to this he attached several small pouches to his chest strap and the larger ones on his waist. He put on the belt and connected it to one of the holsters, on the right side, and the largest pouch on the left. This would be his “drop bag”, the place he’d drop used magazines as they were emptied in combat. Finally, he slung the last holster over his left shoulder. From one of his new boxes of 9x18mm Wolf/9mm MaK, he used all 40 rounds to fill his five empty Makarov magazines. He loaded one into his second PM, and stuffed the remaining four into his chest pouches. He dumped his original box, which had only 24 bullets left, into a pouch at his waist. That would serve him for his next three magazine reloads. He also stuffed his two bottles of vodka into hip pouches for easy access. Then, to conclude his gearing up, he shoved the TT-33 into his left shoulder holster, one PM in his right hip holster, and the final pistol was already in his right thigh holster. He carefully packed all his stuff back into his rucksack. By the time he was finished, the shining rays of dawn had begun to filter through the grey clouds. The storm was now nothing but a light drizzle. Adrian, stood up and stretched. He felt refreshed, fed, and accomplished. He threw his jacket back on, over his gear harness and shoulder holster, letting it hang open. He put on his rucksack and slung his SKS, then went to stand beside Vasyl. “There,” he said to him. “I’m all set. What’s the plan now? If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a suggestion. There’s this idea I’ve been thinking about…” He let his sentence trail off and waited to see it Vasyl was interested. He paused to hear his fellow Stalker’s response.
POST SUMMARY: Clean and load SKS carbine; Load TT-33 pistol; Claim extra Makarov and carrying equipment from pile; Gear up (pistol magazines on harness chest strap, extra bullets in harness waist pouch, vodka bottles in waist pouch, pistols in thigh, hip, and shoulder holsters, rucksack on back, SKS slung over right shoulder.); talk to Vasyl
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 23, 2008 20:32:35 GMT -5
Vasyl grabbed up an extra Makarov as well, with a pistol holster to go with it. He walked back to the fire, and looked over at Adrian. "Nice rifle you got there." The man looked down at his Baikal, then back up to the Assault Rifle. "Between the two of us, I'd say we have enough fire power to kick the shit out of whatever mutants there are wandering around this crappy excuse for a hell." He put the extra holster on the other side of his belt, loading the new Makarov with his back-up magazine and putting it in the holster as quickly as he could. "That thing semi automatic, or fully?" he asked curiously. He gripped the semi-automatic shotgun gently, but with a firm grip, as he asked. The rugged, handy rifle would be good for whatever kind of work it was set up for, and he knew it. He could foresee this thing saving his ass quite a number of times in the not-so-distant future. The fully loaded MP-159 Baikal hunting shotgun was the kind of weapon he adored. Effective, to the point, and with a lot of stopping power. Russian wildlife was pretty tough, Siberian tigers and rams, and if this was designed for that kind of hunting, he could only imagine what it would do to a man. He almost grinned at the thought.
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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 24, 2008 18:55:49 GMT -5
“It’s semi automatic,” Adrian answered. “It only has ten rounds, so I wouldn’t use full auto anyway. It would be a waste. Spray and pray is for amateurs, I stick to single shot. More accurate and less ammo-consuming that way.” He tugged at his bandana, keeping right at his brow line, pretty much on his eyebrows. It was a habit, a personal quirk of his. “Anyway, I had this idea…” he began again, “Even if we go back to town, we still have nothing. We surely want to keep all this new gear, so that leaves us with nothing to barter with. So, I was thinking that we should explore a little and try to find us an artifact or two. I’ve heard stories, and I’m eager to see one for myself. They’re said to have ‘powers’ or some shit like that, and they’re apparently valuable. So what do you say? Want to go artifact hunting? We could even ask Volk for advice before we head out.” Adrian was eager to hear what Vasyl had to say. He watched his partner consider the proposal and waited for his answer.
POST SUMMARY: Talk to Vasyl; Suggest they go artifact hunting
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Post by Aseigan Cetanu on Dec 24, 2008 21:47:51 GMT -5
Vasyl nodded at Adrian. "Sounds good, man. I've heard of these things too... personally, I think they're just some kinda radioactive soda bottles or something that these scientists want to run some kind of funky tests on, but hell, maybe they do give ya some kinda freaky powers. And hell, maybe I can get something with a silencer if we sell one, I hate shooting one time and havin' everything in ten miles know where I am, you know?" He stood up just as he finished, holding his shotgun tight to his chest.
Talk to Adrian; Agree to go artifact hunting
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Post by Blade Knight on Dec 26, 2008 15:49:43 GMT -5
Adrian nodded, pleased that Vasyl had agreed to his plan. He found Volk and asked in his quiet, gruff voice, "Excuse me, Vasyl and I were just heading out, and we were planning on looking for some artifacts before getting back to the Cordon. We would appreciate any tips or advice you could offer."
POST SUMMARY: Ask Volk for advice on artifact hunting
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