04-24-2007, 01:28 PM
OOC: Got some faces to place with the names?
The riverbank was peppered with craters on its furthest side, where Auspex's men attempted to ford across, securing a place somewhere deep inside the forestry. Grenade explosions barraged the opposite shoreline. A sqaud of Troopers began their push into the white wash, guns held high, re-breathers strapped with water-proofing plasticard, drenched in acrid smoke and water.
Gunfire withered overhead. A bullet struck an advancing trooper in the chest and dragged him underneath the foam. Two more stopped marching, poised their rifles, returning the fullisade, hot muzzle fire steaming their helmets clean. Minutes later the squad had stalled on the opposite bank, their Sergeant slouching with a bore in his chin, his blood dying the water like the others.
But his sacrifice encouraged other Trooper Squads to press on.
The bitter cough of rifles slewed into the chopping gulp-gulps of the river current. Auspex relished the sound, he absorbed its foresight. His boots groaned around the cold water. Armored greaves sizzled, his breather tubing condesnsed and whined, the water churned with the thrush-thrush pumping of his legs, caressing droplets and steam across his armored chest. He could hear himself yelling, deafly, but watching the Troopers comply.
"Ford the River you dogs! Charge them!"
Soon the Banris River expunged its load. Over thirteen hundred bodies rose from it, and in a picture-esque moment, carried the body of water with them, until gravity shook from its jealously and tore it back into the river bed. Auspex discharged a bullet into the forestry and glanced along the battle line.
The estranged enemy blockading their territory had fled the forests. In their wake buildings burned: a lumber mill's logging flume disintergrated underneath a grenade, crude pillboxes were blown open and billowing smoke, and primitive bunkers, dug into shallow hills, were gutted.
Auspex's Chamberlain 12th Troopers pressed forwards. An entire regiment seemed to drown every blade of glass, peat, moss, and molding caracass. The air grew heavy. It reeked of gun oil.
"This is the spot. Necrophylus Sanction 24 houses a gate that will lead directly into Foxies domain and personal space." Next to him, the Trooper's head disintegrated in a fern leaf of blood. "Secure this Sanction." Auspex bellowed.
The riverbank was peppered with craters on its furthest side, where Auspex's men attempted to ford across, securing a place somewhere deep inside the forestry. Grenade explosions barraged the opposite shoreline. A sqaud of Troopers began their push into the white wash, guns held high, re-breathers strapped with water-proofing plasticard, drenched in acrid smoke and water.
Gunfire withered overhead. A bullet struck an advancing trooper in the chest and dragged him underneath the foam. Two more stopped marching, poised their rifles, returning the fullisade, hot muzzle fire steaming their helmets clean. Minutes later the squad had stalled on the opposite bank, their Sergeant slouching with a bore in his chin, his blood dying the water like the others.
But his sacrifice encouraged other Trooper Squads to press on.
The bitter cough of rifles slewed into the chopping gulp-gulps of the river current. Auspex relished the sound, he absorbed its foresight. His boots groaned around the cold water. Armored greaves sizzled, his breather tubing condesnsed and whined, the water churned with the thrush-thrush pumping of his legs, caressing droplets and steam across his armored chest. He could hear himself yelling, deafly, but watching the Troopers comply.
"Ford the River you dogs! Charge them!"
Soon the Banris River expunged its load. Over thirteen hundred bodies rose from it, and in a picture-esque moment, carried the body of water with them, until gravity shook from its jealously and tore it back into the river bed. Auspex discharged a bullet into the forestry and glanced along the battle line.
The estranged enemy blockading their territory had fled the forests. In their wake buildings burned: a lumber mill's logging flume disintergrated underneath a grenade, crude pillboxes were blown open and billowing smoke, and primitive bunkers, dug into shallow hills, were gutted.
Auspex's Chamberlain 12th Troopers pressed forwards. An entire regiment seemed to drown every blade of glass, peat, moss, and molding caracass. The air grew heavy. It reeked of gun oil.
"This is the spot. Necrophylus Sanction 24 houses a gate that will lead directly into Foxies domain and personal space." Next to him, the Trooper's head disintegrated in a fern leaf of blood. "Secure this Sanction." Auspex bellowed.