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Sgt. Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He'd thought it a joke at first and a good one at that. A jolly good ruse from the brass before they gave him the real mission briefing. He had laughed. Actually laughed in front of superiors when they had given him the news. They were taking him out of the sky, putting him in command of a hodge-podge unit from all over the world -half of which barely spoke English or were civilians- and best of all they were putting him in a boat. Only when he saw that no one else in the room was laughing along did it sink in. The smile which so often seemed permanently attached under his trimmed mustache had faltered slightly then. They had listed off the reasons for his command with his heroic achievements in the Mediterranean, his efforts behind enemy lines in France during late May 1940 and his ability to give results in even the worst situations. They had told him only a hero could lead these people and that's what he was. He didn't mind the praise one bit, but it was clear that the real reason was a British undertaking such as this would not stand for anyone else in command of a strike force than one of their own. And they must have been desperate, so much so in fact that they decided to pluck an ace pilot like him from the air and put him in charge rather than any of the other seemingly perfectly qualified chaps on the roster. There is no doubt in his mind that he can do the job, but it had indeed come as a bit of a shock. He had paid considerable attention in the briefing that followed, learning all relevant names of both locations and the people he would be working with. A lot of information was suddenly thrust upon him and there had seemed little time to take it all in. And before he knew it, he was in the small, rubber dinghy and now he sits with the rest of his comrades in arms who have been plucked from their various positions in this war. Nothing for it now, he thinks, but to do the best with what he has. After all, he always welcomes a challenge and they don't get more so challenging than this. That thought alone brings a smile to his face until a passing wave jostles the boat. By Jove, how he dislikes small boats! He takes in the dark night and the surf as they make for Saxemberg, letting the others talk amongst themselves somewhat before he joins in. "Stalingrad, Anzio, Omaha and the Resistance in France. It sounds like you all have been through your fair share, more so than most." Everyone still alive to this day has been through their fair share to a degree, but these ones seem to have experienced the worst of ground combat. "I can hardly ask for more, especially when we have these auxiliary ladies and chaps to watch out for." He checks over his shoulder, making sure the other boat is keeping good pace behind them. Their involvement makes it all too likely that something of worth is indeed waiting to be found on this island. "S.Sgt. Thomas, our chain of command is rather an odd one indeed, but have no doubt that it's your show as we make our arrival. I wouldn't want chaps like you and Sgt. Willis to feel a flyboy is telling you how to suck eggs now, would I?" He grins with a flash of white teeth under his trimmed mustache and then follows the man's advice and checks his equipment is all shipshape and as it should be. He has a Sten Mk. I submachine gun with him, the likes of which he hasn't used for some years but it's hardly different from riding a bike. All one has to do is point and shoot and he pities any Jerry who meets the business end of it. His flight suit may have been traded in for black army garb, but he still keeps his father's old lighter tucked into a pocket. No way is that leaving his person. "Wouldn't mind one of you experienced chaps giving me a once over as well, just to be on the safe side. Beach landings are hardly what I am trained for, not from a dinghy at least." pre:
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Sep 29, 2016 10:11
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Name: SGT Richard ‘Dicky’ Barton-Morewood
Nationality: British
MOS:: No. 73 Squadron RAF
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d6, Vigor d8
Skills: Driving d4, Fighting d4, Swimming d4, Shooting d8, Stealth d6, Notice d6, Repair d6, Survival d4, Piloting d8, Knowledge (Navigation) d8.
Pace: 6 Parry: 4 Sanity: 6 Toughness: 7 Charisma: 0
Gear: Leather flight helmet, Goggles, Oxygen mask, Spare uniform, Flight jacket, Boots, Electrically heated suit, Leather flight suit (jacket, trousers), Shoulder holster, Life preserver, Survival kit, Parachute, Backpack, Canteen, Bedroll, Bandage, Socks x4, Scarf, Pipe, Tobacco pouch and Lighter.
Edges:
Rank (NCO): +2 Toughness
Combat Reflexes: +2 to recover from being shaken
British Pluck: +2 Spirit to resist Fear, Intimidation or arcane powers
Dodge: -1 to be hit with ranged attacks
Brave (+2 vs fear)
Hindrances:
Loyal (Minor)
Overconfident (Major)
Quirk: Always carries his father's lighter and pipe (Minor)
Armory:
Unarmed d6 (Str)
Knife d6 (Str+d4)
Webley Service Revolver (.30) d6 (2d6+1, 12/24/48, AP 1, RoF 1, Shots 6, Revolver)
Perks (2):
Raise an attribute (Agility)
Raise an attribute (Spirit)
Advances (4):
+1 Edge (Combat Reflexes)
+1 Rank (NCO) +2 Toughness
+1 Attribute (Smarts)
+2 Skill increases lower (Navigation + Stealth)
Seasoned (4)
+1 Edge (Dodge)
+2 Skill increases lower (Shooting + Notice)
+1 Attribute (Vigor)
+1 Edge (Brave)
Veteran (1)
+1 Skill increase at equal/higher (Piloting)
Medals
Distinguished Service Order (awarded from actions at Hoffman Base)
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood They make landfall with relative ease, despite the choppy weather and poor Sebastian in the back getting thrown briefly in the drink by the sodden looks of him. "Throw a towel over the poor bugger." He takes stock of their surroundings, thankful that they weren't greeted to a hail of machine gun fire after he pointed out a easy enough landing spot. Aside from the discovery of a cigarette, it appears what Jerrys are on this island only make every-so-often patrols which is good news for them. It appears though that poor S.Sgt Thomas is left with no beach to clear, which he imagines puts the shoddy chain of command back in his hands given that most are staring at him for a decision. He only has to look at each path presented to them before he makes his mind up with a decisive nod. "Couldn't have put it better myself, S.Sgt Thomas," he says looking back from the rough terrain to the southwest. "Let's not split ourselves further apart than we need, especially considering most of us may not make the climb so easily." He gives a brief look to the civilians in tow and those carrying more equipment. "We head to the northern side in groups and do as the S.Sgt said," he gives the man an appreciative nod, silently grateful for the bloke's experience here. "We stick to teams we had in the boats. Boat one up front, boat two behind. Everyone quiet and whispers only when necessary from this point. Eyes and ears open." He looks to the comrade Rostov. "My lady, given your talents, you are best to take point." He gives his gear one last check for good measure and hefts the Sten in his hands. "Right ladies and gents, let's go. There's secrets to be found and Jerrys to be put in the ground."
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Sep 29, 2016 21:21
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He keeps to his own orders and remains quiet through their march across the shoreline, hearing only the soft crunch of their footsteps and the waves beating against the shore. At the discovery of the hidden hatch leading into the island he only utters an impressed snort as Arapeta brute forces their way in. The interior is hardly his ideal location, more so used is he to the open areas of the near-unending skies. No resistance is given on his end as the group descend the discovered ladder further into the tunnel depths. He merely crouches down by the hole with fellow Brit Bradley and awaits the word from below. He waits for some time at the top, hearing the dull sound of conversation below but no word being passed up as to the situation. Before long, impatience gets the better of him. If he is to be leading this party, he may as well go down and look to what is happening. "Bugger it. Wait here, old bean," he says to Bradley. "No booby traps on that door either, Sergeant. We might need it if this proves a dead end." He steps down the ladder himself then, joining the other group at the steel blast doors just as S.Sgt Thomas sums up the situation. "Sealed, eh?" he whispers. "Well we're not blowing anything up and announcing ourselves this early on. Could bring the whole bloody tunnel down on us too." He watches Kuznetsov seem to have no luck with what he tries either. With how abandoned this section looks, it's all too possible that more doors are sealed beyond these ones too. "If there's no getting past here quietly, then let's poke around for another entrance first. Right, quickly now, back up top." He climbs back up the ladder and fills the others in up top. "Steel blast doors below. Sealed and no way in aside from explosives which we aren't risking just yet. We'll look for another way in on the island first. If we find nothing, we come back here and do it the loud way." A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 09:25 on Sep 30, 2016 |
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Sep 30, 2016 09:13
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He takes what cover he can from the storm and simply awaits any sign or call of success from those who have ventured into the vent. Dark thoughts pass through his mind as he waits, not helped any by the miserable conditions he finds himself in. The chance of Nazis surrounding or capturing those who went inside is a great one indeed and he'd be damned if he was going to lose anyone barely a few hours into this mission. A flash of lightning streaks across the sky and he finds himself longing for the protection from the elements his grand old Hawker Hurricane gave him. As the storm continues unabated he is just about to suggest they move to join with the academics in waiting when the flow of air begins pumping out of the vent, much to his delight. "Jammy buggers must have gotten the power back on," he says to Manahi and Rostov. "Grand job! Right, if that's the case what do you reckon that our stubborn steel doors might be working now? Let's get back to the hatch and out of this bloody rain."
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Oct 1, 2016 14:24
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood The walk back to the hatch is thankfully a quiet one, if still a wet and miserable one. He rejoins the others huddled by the now open door that once barred their way, greeting them with a small grin now that the power has been successfully restored. His mustache has sadly drooped slightly, given the amount of rainfall he has been caught in. He nods to Kuznetsov, noticing the man has given up waiting for his smoke. No matter now, the lights and activity will alert anyone more than a drat cigarette. "Good job, chap. Smell zone, eh? Can tell why." He covers his nose with a free hand as the stench wafts his way. He listens attentively as the man brings him and the others up to date with what they've found. "I see. No Jerries at all? Apart from the, uh, exploded one? What the bloody hell happened here then... We should get to the others and conduct a proper sweep."
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Oct 1, 2016 18:51
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood The grounded pilot steps into the bunker proper, getting a good view of the wrecked submarine. A nod to S.Sgt Tomas is given when the man approaches. "A mutiny... Lucky for us." He thinks in silence for a moment, looking back to the submarine. Never had he seen one quite that size. The Nazis still have plenty of secrets up their sleeves even now, it seems. "Good to see you're alright, chap," he says to Ronnie with a wry smile. "Wasn't looking forward to having your death on my conscience." He passes the radio back to Kuznetsov, having taken it off the man when he entered the vent. "What's next is we search this place good and proper for any left over Jerry bugger and whatever documents they were dumb enough to leave behind in their evacuation." From what he can see and has heard from the others, this place is rather sizable indeed. A proper search could potentially take them a large amount of hours... "I'd like to keep us all together, but with our numbers I think we can afford at least two groups to search independently to speed things up." Another moment's pause in thought is taken before he speaks. "S.Sgt Thomas, I want you and LCpl Manahi to take our noncombatant lads and ladies here to the Vault and give it a proper look over. The rest of us will move to the Command Center and see what's left. We'll regroup here once we're done and move on to search the rest of the base." As out of his depth as he may be, it sounds like a decent enough plan to him.
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Oct 1, 2016 20:16
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood "Can't say much to that," he says to Kuznetsov, taking their surroundings in once more. "Usually I'm blowing these place to kingdom come from up above. But this place does seem a cut above most from what I can tell, despite being out in the middle of nowhere. And that submarine... I've never seen one quite like it before." He scoffs at Kuznetsov. "One thing you can say about Jerry is he sure knows how to build to match his ambition." To Ronnie, he says. "With any luck, some documents have been left about that explain just that or I've got no clue how to explain it." A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 21:34 on Oct 1, 2016 |
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Oct 1, 2016 21:32
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He nods to Ronnie. "If anyone can make heads or tails of it, they can. Like you said, must be why so many were roped into this. Should save us trying to bang our heads against it." He can only hope. When their resident medic comes strolling up, he cocks an eyebrow at her bloody finger pointing at him. "All good questions, madam. Perhaps they all saw us coming and legged it. We could speculate for days on what happened here, but with any luck some information to explain all this has been left around and is just waiting for us to find it." When she jests that his command is having fun with them, he simply smiles a toothy grin. "I wouldn't put it past them."
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Oct 1, 2016 23:05
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He steps in a circle around the Command Centre, his boots kicking up ash and burnt debris. "Bugger..." he utters with a grimace. Whatever important information was left in here looks beyond saving, they'd just have to hope they get lucky somewhere else. He's busy looking over the destroyed Enigma machine as Kuznetsov wanders into the radio room, having never seen one himself up close before even if it is caved in as hell. When he hears the Russian yell at something, his head whips up in a flash and barely a look is given to the others before he rushes in with Victoire. "Some bugger's in there?!" How the hell were they going to flush him out..? With some answer to that question, Victoire's shotgun blast tears through the silence of the room with the sound bouncing of the walls and nearly causing the pilot to go deaf. He covers his ears instinctively and waits for the ringing to abate some before he looks to the woman at the now destroyed grate, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Doucet!! You will drat well control that firearm of yours in these spaces unless absolutely necessary, is that clear?! Need I remind you that we are to bring in prisoners, if possible?! Shooting this man won't get us the answers we need to learn what the bloody hell happened here!"
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Oct 2, 2016 09:16
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood "This is not a discussion, Doucet," he returns with equal coldness. "That man can tell us what was going on here, something the burnt remains in that room back there-" he gestures back to the Command Centre, "-can't. And he won't be able to tell us anything if a shotgun blast removes his head. I don't know how we flush him out just yet, but we don't harm him unless he moves to harm us." He looks down at the woman reloading a shell into her weapon. If people were going to look to him for decisions, they were bloody well going to follow them when he made them. "And you keep that finger off that trigger from now on unless something's shooting back at you."
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Oct 2, 2016 09:50
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He lets the French woman leave the room without another word. He'd said all he needed to. His eyes are turned to the radio equipment instead, but he still looks back every second or two to the ventilation shaft. "What can you make of this equipment, Comrade Kuznetsov? Sgt Willis? Anything left undamaged we can use?"
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Oct 2, 2016 10:44
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He merely stands back and continues to be impressed by Sgt. Willis and Comrade Kuznetsov as the two men separately disarm the radio and retrieve the hidden Jerry radio frequency. "Blinding good work, chaps. Sgt. Willis, I agree." To the others, he calls; "No one touch important equipment until Sgt.Willis has had a chance to check for traps." With their work seemingly done for now in the Command Centre, he follows Kuznetsov and Doucet to the Map Room, all but running the last steps as Doucet calls for him. Boots once again crunch debris underneath as this room has also been ransacked like the others so far. Stepping over to the large table in the middle of the room, he peers down at the map that marks yet another hidden Jerry point of interest; this one in the world's freezer. "The Antarctic, eh? Wonder what Jerry found of interest all the way out there..." One thing bugs him; why would they go out of their way to demolish so much in their evacuation but leave this map perfectly intact for him to read? His eyes wander over to the strange, star-shaped mark. "Should get our academic tag-alongs to work out what the hell this means." When Izoldah speaks, he turns to her with a nod after a thoughtful pause. "Indeed. Good thinking, Rostov." The man would have access to the armoury for some time now, but their arrival coupled with the unnecessary firing from Doucet would give the chap all the more incentive to arm himself. That is, if the Germans left anything to be armed with after they left. "We'll make a move, soon as I'm done with these markers Doucet has found." Speaking of which, he turns to Doucet. "Mind if I have a look at these, miss? I have some experience with map markers, might make heads or tails of it." His voice is calmer now, more friendly towards the woman as he reaches out for the marker she holds. He also grabs a few off the floor to study. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 (Knowledge - Navigation) * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 2 2 ) Results: 2 A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 20:16 on Oct 3, 2016 |
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Oct 3, 2016 08:52
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 Richard 'Dicky' Barton-MorewoodStanding over the map with the markers in his hand, he takes only a short time of looking back and forth between each to work out their importance. "As I suspected," he says more to himself than anyone before he turns to address those in the room. "These are to monitor their movements in the area, of ships and the like. Silly buggers for demolishing so much but leaving this perfectly intact... Give me some time with this and I can work out where Jerry's maneuvering." He hunches over the map with an eager grin, ready to do just that but is cut short when Ronnie appears as if from the shadows.He places the markers down on the table. Studying the map will seemingly have to wait for now... It appears the other group have also caught sight or sound of their vent-crawling Jerry. "At least one is crawling around in the vents, but he scarpered before anyone could get a good look. I figured the shotgun blast would alert you all enough." He then notices the armoury door rising and realises the urgency of securing each room first takes importance over his fondness for studying maps. "Like the lady said, we're securing the armoury first then we'll all move on the north-west section and conduct a proper sweep." With that said, he readies the Sten in his hands and takes what cover he can with a good view of the slowly rising armoury door... A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 09:05 on Oct 4, 2016 |
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Oct 4, 2016 09:02
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He waits as the blast door slowly begins to rise. It continues to rise slowly and before long his waiting turns to impatience. "Bugger it. This is going to take too long." And the longer they wait, the more time their Jerry friend has to disappear into the vents again. He thinks for a moment. Tracking down the Nazi is important, but so is making sure this place remains secure now that the armoury is opening up. He turns to Ronnie, speaking soft but fast as the blast door continues to slowly creep open. "S.Sgt, I want you to take Sgt. Willis, Miss Doucet and Comrade Rostov and track down this German. Kuznetsov and I will remain here and keep the area secure should our Jerry friend decide to crawl out of a nearby vent and break into the armoury. "On your way past the Vault, I want you to send the academics to me here with whatever items they might have found in there." He'll also need their help to decipher the star-shaped mark on the map and he'd prefer to keep their numbers split only in two so they are not spread thin. "Take Manahi along with you to investigate the noise too, the man's strength is better suited with your team should our Jerry try to put up a fight."
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Oct 4, 2016 14:20
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He welcome the academics with a small grin and nod, not at all surprised they managed to get here before the bloody door to the armoury is open even halfway. "The others are-" he stops as the single gunshot rings out from down the halls, causing him to look over his shoulder briefly before he sighs and continues on. "The others are investigating a sound. We know at least one Jerry is still hiding in here, in the vents. Sound like they ran into him..." He shakes his head, at this rate no prisoners will be had but it's a drat sight better than them risking their lives for that of a bloody Jerry. "I need you all here to take a look at this map." He takes them into the map room to do just that, but has difficulty understanding even a word that comes out of Grace's mouth as she describes the symbol. "Jerry's doing something in the Arctic, damned if I can work out what it is though... I'll need another look at these markers..." A sprinkling of dust falls from above and he blows it out of his face, turning his head up to see where it came from. Only then does he see the fingers stretching out from the vent overhead. His eyes squint in confusion before they go wide. There's more than one up there! A sick feeling threatens to creep into his stomach, but sheer adrenaline manages to keep it at bay. In one swift motion, he raises up the Sten to aim down the sights square at the vent. "Stop or we shoot!" He'll give them one chance to do the sane thing before he opens up on them. "Surrender!" His finger is on the trigger, ready to squeeze if the Jerries don't even show a hint of ceasing. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 2 3 ) Results: 3 #Then popped my second benny# <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 6 2 ) Results: 6 #British Pluck cancels out the minus to the rolls#
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Oct 5, 2016 09:44
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left His aim isn't as true as he'd like, but his last shot does give that pleasing sound of hitting home. His trigger finger relaxes as he listens to the sound of whoever is up there scuffling off further into the ventilation system. Only then does he release a breath he didn't know he was holding. It isn't the first time he's fired at an enemy on foot, his time in Troyes back in 1940 giving him more than enough opportunities to gain kills not from the comfort of his cockpit, but it's still been long enough since then that he feels his breath quicken and blood pumping from having fired an automatic weapon. Following the fresh blood dripping from the vent now, he looks back down to the others with him. "You saw that too, right? There was more than one of them, it looked like... Why the bloody hell would they do something that stupid..?" He scoffs as he notices a drop of blood on his boot. "Should've taken my advice and surrendered, the drat buggers. Didn't get them good enough though, by the sounds of how quick they scarpered." He looks at everyone's face more closely, realizing this might be the first time they've seen action up close. "Everyone OK? Just breath regular and keep your wits about you." Not noticing Irakliy, he calls out for the man. "Kuznetsov! You alright, chap?" A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 17:52 on Oct 5, 2016 |
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Oct 5, 2016 17:49
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He ponders Sebastian's question, looking over the civilians. He can't put them at risk, but then those Jerries did run off toward the Power Room. This may be their best chance to capture them and stop them from potentially sabotaging the power too. "Most of you are essentially non-combatants. I don't feel I can order you to join me in going after them, they could be armed." He checks his Sten is still ready for action. "But you're right, we need to check the Power Station or they could sabotage us and the other team is too far away to wait for. We can't look over what's left here-" he looks to the map "- If Jerries are still running around this place. If you're with me, then we should get after them quickly."
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Oct 5, 2016 19:43
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He grins at the other's speedy reply to join him in action. It serves as a reminder to him to never underestimate the simple courage of civilians. A nod of appreciation joins his grin before his face becomes more serious. "Right then, we all go together. Stick behind myself and Kuznetsov. Let's move quickly." With his Sten in hand and at the ready, he leads the way to the Power Room.
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Oct 6, 2016 07:18
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left The Sten lowers in his hands and his once steady aim slackens as the weapon falls limp in one hand to his side. What's pressed up against the other side of the door is unsightly, ungodly, something that should not be and yet he finds his eyes fixed upon it. His mouth falls open as his brain tries to somehow make sense of what he's seeing. He barely notices Dimitry running past them, screaming his way down the hallway. "What..." he begins before his stomach turns and his mind truly recognizes what's before him. Many people, fused into one... A living nightmare. His body pulls him back instinctively as a fear, unlike anything he's felt before, tells him to get away from the door. A few steps away and he turns around, tearing his eyes from the sight of the creature and fighting back bringing up his breakfast and catch his breath. "We need to... We need to...". He can't look at it again. That thing shouldn't exist. "We need to go... Find the others..." <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 3 1 ) Results: 3 #British Pluck negated the -2, yet still a fail.# <A_Velociraptor> !roll d20+2 * AchtungBot rolled d20+2 for A_Velociraptor and got 14 #welp.# #Temporary Minor Phobia (Which will be Bulkhead doors with porthole windows. Dicky is now expecting a monster to pop up in front of each one.) and 1d3 Dementia# <A_Velociraptor> !roll d3 * AchtungBot rolled d3 for A_Velociraptor and got 3 #Great!# A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 09:48 on Oct 6, 2016 |
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Oct 6, 2016 09:33
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left As those struggling down the corridor pass him, he throws his weight behind the bulkhead door. He screams and shuts his eyes, knowing the monster is on the other side, charging toward them. As the impact hits, he staggers back a step or two but returns full force to keep the creature blocked from them. Even with his eyes shut he can feel their eyes on him, waiting and forcing him to open his and stare back. But his resolve doesn't waiver and his team mates thankfully assist in sealing the bulkhead door. When he's sure it's shut tight, he releases his death grip and bolts backwards from the door opening his eyes only to see the creature retreating away from them. He turns away, unable to look through the porthole, sure the creature will return and those faces will stare back at him once more. "Jesus... Holy Christ!" He tries to catch his breath, but it still remains ragged and fast-paced. Dimitry is nowhere to be seen but the others are at least still alive. Kuznetsov's screams seem to perfectly mirror how the man's wound must feel. The others talk of getting bigger guns from the armoury and wrecked sub, but he can hear still the rattling of gunfire further into the base in the direction of their other teammates. Clearing his throat, he finds his voice steady once more. "No!" he says as the others start to move. "You hear that gunfire? The others are in trouble and probably facing something as bad as we've been." God, he how he inwardly hopes that is not the case! "We're moving to help them, now. And you, sir-" he looks to Kuznetsov, "-need the attention of our French medic. They would not leave us, let us not leave them!" Gripping firming the Sten once more, he leads them on in the direction of the gunfire.
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Oct 7, 2016 06:15
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left He recoils at the sight of yet another monstrosity, yet this one thankfully lying shot and skewered on the floor. "Oh bloody hell... It seems you chaps won't need much convincing on what we've seen after all then." He looks over them all, taking stock of their conditions. "We're alive, which counts for something, I'm sure" They're safe and relatively unharmed, apart from Kuznetsov who's getting some much needed treatment. Yet Dimitry is still worryingly nowhere to be seen... His voice takes on more urgency then. "There's another. A bigger one in the Power Room. A whole bloody...heap of people all in one abomination... We couldn't hope to take it ourselves." But his spirits are indeed bolstered now by their larger numbers. He nods in agreement with Kuznetsov. "Now that we know everyone's safe, we'll check out the armoury and see if anything larger than what we've got is waiting for us to find." To those who dispatched the beast now rotting nearby, he says; "Securing the Power Room is urgent, but that thing could rip you to shreds if it's still in there. The thing's bloody huge and won't go down easy with what weapons we have. Whatever damage I did by shooting it just seemed to piss it off. You might be better off checking the Armoury with us before we move on it..." Still looking to his left and right from time to time, he adds; "And everyone keep an eye out for Vasilievich. The poor bugger ran off when he saw the monster. Can't blame him for it though..."
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Oct 7, 2016 23:00
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left "The advice is always appreciated, S.Sgt, especially in a situation like this." He looks briefly to the dead monster before looking away and adding more authority to his voice. "Alright, we need to move now or we're all buggered. We go all together if we want a hope in hell of surviving this place. To the Armoury first then we move on the Power Room with whatever firepower we have. At the worst, more guns are just as good as bigger ones." He turns back to the south. "Get yourselves together and let's get a move on to the Armoury."
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Oct 7, 2016 23:23
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left He lends his lighter to assist with the burning of the downed creature by the docks, thankful at least on of the monsters has been dealt with. Yet another remains and so he leads the way to the Armoury, his pace quickening at the sound of clanging somewhere behind the wreckage of the submarine and the fluctuating of the lights. Within the Armoury, he can't help but grin along with Kuznetsov at the sight of the flamethrowers. "That's the ticket. Anyone know how to use one of these things?" Just then the lights flicker once more and the blast doors to the Armoury start to shut slowly. "Everyone grab something and let's go! Move!" Following his own orders, he grabs one of the MP40s with a spare magazine and dashes for the blast door. "Go! Go!" He stops on the Armoury side of the blast door, moving everyone out ahead of him to be sure he's the last one out. If anyone looks to be straggling, he grabs them and practically throws them out of the Armoury.
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Oct 8, 2016 13:16
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He remains behind to make sure the others get clear of the closing doors, but he soon wishes he hadn't. Looking over his shoulder he sees the living nightmare once more, groping and straining to work itself free. A cold terror attempts to take hold of him again as he sees those twisted faces, but adrenaline helps him keep it at bay for now. He let's loose a wordless shout and swings the Sten around to fire on the creature, pressing down hard on the trigger. A three shot burst is loosed, but three shots miss in his haste and panic. When the horror makes an attack of it's own, only instincts keep him unharmed as he dodges within a split-second as the barbed bone rips through the sleeve of his uniform. Not liking his chances all alone here with the others already having turned the corner, he spins around and legs it as fast as he can away from the creature. Upon turning the corner, he shouts at Victoire and Ronnie as he runs; "It's behind me! Go! Go!" He sees the door lowering up ahead and thinks of nothing else than getting under it before he's trapped with the living nightmare.
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Oct 10, 2016 16:38
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He drops into a slide as he passes under the door and quickly rushes behind the others as their shots ring out back in the direction of the monstrosity. He doesn't drop to his stomach to join in, partly feeling it best left to keener shots than him but mostly not wanting to look upon that disgusting abomination again so soon if he can ever help it... Christ, there was a bloody dog in there too! He keeps his death grip on the Sten, finger ready to pull the trigger should the creature try and make it's way under before the door closes.
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Oct 10, 2016 21:29
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 1 benny left He nods to Kuznetsov, quickly dropping his Sten and strapping on the flamethrower with the Russian's assistance. "How does-" he begins in a rush, but then Harry's yells cut him off. Realising he is carrying something that would be very bad around an explosion, he quickly dives down the corridor as he sees the grenade bounce his way. He hits the ground as the same time as the explosion, a sharp ringing filling his ears. He opens his eyes having shut them during the blast and checks himself and the flamethrower over, breathing a large sigh of relief through ragged breaths as he finds no wounds or damage done to either. He gets back on his feet with very shaky legs and readies the German weapon in his hands. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 9 15 ) Results: 15 #Aced the agility roll and escaped any wound, but now Shaken.#
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Oct 11, 2016 15:31
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left Recovering from his dive from the wayward grenade, the pilot grits his teeth and steadies his legs to keep the shakes at bay. He nods as Kuznetsov shouts at him over the ringing in his ears. "Point and shoot! Got it!" he yells back, wasting no time in walking up to the blast door to join those still firing on the creature. "Keep back!" He aims the nozzle to the gap in the blast door and squeezes the trigger just like the Russian advised. Time to give this sod a light. Flames spray forth and he grins menacingly as he pours it toward the monster. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d6 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 14 3 ) Results: 14 #Successful shooting roll# <A_Velociraptor> !sw 2d10 * AchtungBot rolled a (2d10) for A_Velociraptor and got ( 4 7 ) Total: 11 #Damage roll#
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Oct 11, 2016 17:07
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left The flamethrower kicks back on him as he lets loose the stream of fire into the slowly closing gap of the blast door, but he keeps his grip and hold over the weapon steady as he hears the horrendous wails of the monster. He lets off the trigger just as the others let loose a hail of bullets causing the wailing to come to a decisive end seconds before the blast door meets the floor. As the sudden silence greets them then, all he can hear is his own ragged breaths and the dull ringing still lingering from the grenade blast. "Sweet Christ, I think we actually got the bugger..." he says, filling the silence. A shaky grin comes and goes as he feels both the lingering terror that came from seeing that beast and the near overwhelming joy of knowing it is now finally dead. "Whatever the hell that was..." He swallows and shakes his head. "We can work out later. Good bloody work, team. A few too many close calls there. How is everyone shaped up?" He starts to smell and see the smoke already drifting out the vent overhead. "If we don't do something about it, that fire's going to spread and get out of control. Doucet, do what you can with people's wounds. Those of you who don't need seeing to, try and find a fire hose or an extinguisher. We'll let that drat monster fry for a while longer but then we need to open this door up and fight the fire we just started." Giving himself only enough time to catch his breath, he then looks about their immediate surroundings for anything that might help put out a fire. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d4 (Notice) * AchtungBot rolled a (1d4) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 2 1 ) Results: 2 A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 20:45 on Oct 11, 2016 |
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Oct 11, 2016 20:43
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left He shakes his head at Ronnie. "After we're gone this place can burn down to the ground, but there's too much of the base we haven't checked over yet to let a fire rage while we're doing that. Especially one that will destroy that map we need and might then make it's way to the Power Room." Speaking of which, the man does make a good point of splitting their numbers once more. "Good thinking though, S.Sgt. Let's not waste too much time when there's plenty of ground to cover. Take Sgt. Willis here and see what the bloody bugger has done to the Power Room." He pauses a moment before adding; "And, S.Sgt, considering what we're up against, don't feel like you need to wait for an order from me if you think of something vital that needs getting done from now on. If this were a mission like we were expecting, I'd say otherwise. But I think we all know this has gone beyond the realms of normality now." His teeth flash as a brief grin shows under his moustache. "Never did like a man who's rank exceeds mine calling me 'sir' anyway." Turning to Yulia, he nods. "We'll try our luck with putting out the fire first, Doctor. Then we'll work with whatever options we have left after that if we should fail. You're right though, that map and whatever information it might still tell us is something worth trying to save to bring back to the brass" Sending someone through the vents is a possible option to retrieve the map but he's not willing to risk a life in the vents after the last horror he just saw crawling out of it.
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Oct 11, 2016 23:27
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left He shouts a "Good luck." at Ronnie, Yulia and Ted as they go to check out the Power Room. He can only pray the creature didn't do any damage in there that will seriously hinder their mission. When Harry locates the fire equipment, he helps the man haul the hose to the blast door and has to scrunch up his nose and breath through his mouth when the door opens to let forth the foul stench of the roasting monster's carcass. He curse under his breath as the door rises only a few inches before it splutters and dies. "Christ... Well at least we can get the hose under." Lending a hand with cleaning up his own mess, he shoves the hose in through the gap and start spraying water with the hope that it at least puts out the worst of the flames. When Kuznetsov grabs his attention, he turns slightly to regard the man while still keeping a hold on the hose. "I couldn't agree more. Leave no man behind. For all we know he might have tried to flee the base and return to the boats. Good luck in your search. If you see or hear any sign of these...monsters still lurking around, call, shout or shoot and we'll come running."
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Oct 12, 2016 13:56
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left After working the hose for some time and most of the smoke clears, he turns off the hose and drops it unceremoniously to the ground. "Right, give me a second, chaps." Unburdening himself of the flamethrower temporarily, he then drops to his stomach and grits his teeth as he struggles through the small gap. He steels himself further as he wiggles past the charred, sickly-smelling remains of the monster, praying inwardly that it doesn't suddenly spring back to life and add his own face to it's horrid collection. He only regards the dead creature long enough to make sure it is most certainly dead before his stomach can't bear to look anymore. With a quick jog down the singed corridor, he retrieves the map from the Map Room with little hassle, even pocketing as many of the magnetic markers as he can find. With the map under his arm, he doubles back to the blast door before the thought of being here on his own makes him completely terrified. Back at the blast door, he slides the map out ahead of him before popping out again himself once more to rejoin the others. "Well, the fire's out and that monsters most assuredly dead so that's two less thing to worry about. Even got the map in tact to give back to the brass," he says with a pat of the map under his arm. He turns to Sebastian and unloads the map on the lad with a; "If you wouldn't mind, dear chap." as he then re-fixes the flamethrower tank onto his back and the nozzle in his hands. The worst of the wounded seem to have been attended to in good time, so nothing is left but to continue their sweep of the base. As Harry joins the Russians, he looks over at the Frenchwoman. "Miss Doucet, tag along with them too. I'd rather they were travelling with their doctor." He can't help but grin a little at that. To the Academics with him, he says as he frees a hand to pick up the Sten he previously dropped; "How about we give that Vault a good clear out?" A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 19:45 on Oct 12, 2016 |
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Oct 12, 2016 19:30
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left To Ronnie, he nods grimly. "Four hours, huh? We all better move like the devil's chasing us then." Which he thinks rather grimly, it already has. "Won't say no to the extra help, S.Sgt. Let's get a move on to the Vault then."
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Oct 12, 2016 20:53
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left He strands guard at the door as the brains of their group work their way through the Vault once more. Given what they've encountered so far, he's more than a little on edge and even the slightest hint of sound makes him tense up briefly and his grip tighten on the flamethrower. Every now and then he turns his head into the room and on one such occasion he notices the team are gathering quiet the collection of books. "Looks like Jerry forgot his reading collection." Stepping over, he takes a peek at some of the titles and his brow furrows near instantly. "And you can make sense of these?" he says rhetorically with an impressed whistle. It seems the brass were more than right for sending them along for the ride after all. "Just leave the research for later, ladies and gents. We're against the clock here. Just bag up what you can quickly." Leaving them to gather up what he reckons he'll never understand, he steps back outside the Vault and joins in with the other non-academics. "Agreed, let's get cracking on that sub. With any luck, we'll find some sign of Dimitry too."
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Oct 14, 2016 18:03
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left Following Harry's lead, he too strips himself of the flamethrower and checks his Sten is fully loaded before he steps foot on the sub.Thankfully, Doucet's warnings prove to have little weight behind them with no sight of their missing Russian operating the deck gun. Inside the sub, things are about as grim as could be expected. "They sure stripped this place good," he whispers to no one in particular. He jumps slightly as Rostov yells out in Russian at the sight of the hand print. "Bloody hell, did he really run in here?" The sound of clanging from further in seems to provide some sort of answer. The cramped and dark conditions do nothing to calm his slowly growing heart rate. "I knew there was a reason I didn't join the Navy..." God, how he wishes he were in the air right now, sweeping in to bomb the hell out of this place. He involuntarily winces every time they pass a port hole, fully expecting another multi-faced monster to press itself up against it suddenly and begin clawing for him. Suffice to say, he keeps back and lets those who are more experienced with tight corridor fighting go first.
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Oct 14, 2016 23:33
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood 2 bennies left With their wayward Russian found and the last of the Nazi horrors thankfully dealt with, everything else happens in a refreshingly quick and straightforward fashion. So much so that it all seems to pass within a flash. Once the all clear call is sent and they get back up topside to leave the base behind them for good, he grins in the morning light and deeply breaths in the crisp, fresh air. During their almost leisurely walk to the boats, he finds the quietness amongst the group gives him time to reflect on their mission here. What had been presented as an already challenging task from the start had taken turns that neither he or anyone in their ragtag squad could have expected. And it's the unexpected he finds himself pondering on all too much as they make their exit. What manner of creation were those monsters? Surely man-made through some twisted Nazi experiment he has heard rumours of them not being above conducting. Surely they could not be anything other than man-made, for starting to believe in forces beyond humanities understanding really existing on this world is more than he can bear to think on. He wonders what their academic support might make of it all, but given the team's unspoken willingness to put this behind them, he does not bring it up. Yet, rather than boggle his mind too much for too long over the horrors and unexpected turns they have faced, he focuses on the clear fact that their mission would in all likelihood be seen as a resounding success. Despite the force they were unknowingly up against, they had cleared the base of all hostiles, collected all possible artifacts of interest and grabbed valuable intelligence to boot. But most importantly, all members have survived with no critical injuries. And for that he breaths the deepest sigh of relief and finds tension he didn't know he had lifting from him. Unlike during their arrival, he welcomes the return to the open ocean as they all clamber back into rubber dinghies, his smile growing wider under his moustache as the island starts to shrink behind them. ~~~~~~~~~ Upon their return, he shakes hands with all the team as they separately step off the boats, wishing them all a well deserved rest and speedy recovery to those who are in need it. Being the one given the burden of command, he is hardly surprised when he is directed to a room almost immediately for a full debriefing. Thankfully this is something he knows all too well having been to a fair few of them in his time, so he's able to approach this at least with the self-confidence he's often known for. He walks in still covered in dirt, dried splatters of blood and with a uniform torn down one sleeve, showing the brass all what sort of mission it had been before he even opens his mouth. When he does speak he keeps it all relatively straightforward and simple, describing the events as they transpired in order with as much detail as he can remember. Their arrival on the empty beach, the discovery of the base, to Ronnie's daring descent into the vent along with those who followed him to allow them all entrance, their initial sweep of the base and the resulting discoveries of both intelligence and artifacts. He directs their attention to the recovered map with eagerness which confirms Nazi operations along the Antarctic coast as well as giving any other information he might have gleaned during his brief study of it. When it comes time to talk of the monsters faced, he leaves nothing out. He recounts in full detail exactly what they faced, knowing full well that these creatures almost killed the brave men and women with him and he would be damned if he was going to leave anything out after they had risked their lives to see the mission through to the end after seeing what they were up against. He can't help but feel his voice quiver slightly as he tells the tale of their first encounter of the main beast pressing it's faces against the window of the Power Room's door, yet still he keeps on. And if he sees any questioning faces amongst the brass, he merely tells them that -whilst he fully understands their disbelief- the half-charred remains of the many-faced creature is still at the base ready to confirm his story. Beyond that he talks of their final sweep of the base and their findings upon the submarine with the final confrontation. But he does leave out a few notes unworthy of stating as far as he sees it, one being how shook up people had gotten during their encounters with the horrors. If it were any regular fight it would bare mentioning, but their encounters had been anything other than regular. Another untold subject is Dimitry and the man's disappearance merely being passed off as being lost in the confusion, but he's sure to tell all of finding the man heroically taking on the last hostile of the base by himself before their arrival. He gives nothing less than glowing praise for the men and women under his command, making no one individual appear more heroic over any other but stating their exceptional range of abilities and steadfastness in the face of near-overwhelming danger as the clear reason for why their mission can be seen as such a success. If any praise should come his way, he merely brushes it off and re-directs with more remarks on the exemplary performance of the others. As far as he sees it he was flying by the seat of his pants for the majority of the mission, merely relying on the advice of those around him and turning it into an order. It seems hardly worthy of praise in his eyes, as does any talk of promotion or medals to add to his collection. He had done his duty and everyone had lived to see another day, that is all the satisfaction of a job well done that he needs on this particular occasion. Once it's all said and done and he's exhausted all possible details of the mission, he is dismissed and steps back out into the fresh air, deciding a hot shower and equally toasty meal will be the plan of action before bed. But before all that, he takes a seat wherever one presents itself for the first real rest he's had since this all began. Fishing his father's lighter from his pocket, he thinks how the devil he'll ever explain a night like last night to the boys of the 73rd. With this on his mind, he lights up his pipe and stares up at the sky for some time before he wanders off to see about that shower. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8+2 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 8 4 ) Results: 8 #This roll will help combat the 3 points of Dementia Dicky gained.#
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Oct 15, 2016 21:05
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood At first he's happy for the downtime, pending further word from command. During the first days he stays ready, anxious and expecting a call to come any moment that he's to be flown back out into the fight; be it the Arctic or someplace else the brass deemed fit for him. And when those days pass with no word, he truly relaxes in a way he hasn't since his stint behind enemy lines a good few years ago. The further passing days find the grounded pilot sleeping in, writing letters back home, reading in the sun and enjoying an evening drink of brandy with the other lads and ladies from Saxemberg where he tells nearly all tales of the war that he is able to. Before long he finds whatever lingering terror rested in his mind from their assault on Saxemberg has all but faded in to what he can only associate with that of a bad dream. With any luck, it will be the last time he has to face any such horrors up close before the war is done. Sadly though, he is not willing to bet on it. But with the slowly passing days, cabin fever creeps in and he finds himself making frequent trips to the neighboring islands whenever the opportunity presents itself just so he does not have to dwell within the Atlantic Isle of which he is becoming uncomfortably familiar with. When he is confined to the base, he uses the time to ready himself once more for the fight; mostly consisting of improving his accuracy at the firing range and lending a helping hand with the fixing up and maintenance of any aircraft that might be kept on base. Somewhere along the line, Harry gifts him a strange pendant which he is far too much of a gentleman not to wear with sincere words of thanks. He's more than eager to be about it when they are called into the meeting with Woolley, not all that surprised to see the Saxemberg group has been reassembled once more. Woolley is certainly the kind of officer he admires, one of the main reasons being he sees a great resemblance to himself in the man, not counting the graying at the temples of course. And the man confirms his suspicion that he will indeed be deployed to the fight in the frozen wastes, but not exactly in the role he had imagined. He remains silent for now, waiting to hear the answers to the first round of questions first. Izoldah's question of whether he is in command again is the one that specifically piques his interest. <A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 * AchtungBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 2 15 ) Results: 15 #Shed that last Dementia point.# Dicky will be getting the Edge: Dodge after evading both monsters and grenade explosions. Also increasing two skills that are lower than their linked attributes by one die type each (Shooting to d8 and Notice to d6).
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Oct 19, 2016 09:48
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He gives Woolley a nod and flash of teeth through a grin when the Commander fluffs up his ego some. A short, quiet chuckle is heard under his breath. So, their loose chain of command is to remain until further notice. At least their current mission simply involves transport. But given the larger scope of this operation he wonders how long his command will last once they get to this ship. What had Woolley called it. The...Jeremiah? As the name enters his head, he takes on a look of deep thought for a few seconds; listing off numerous carrier names in his head that he knows of. Having gotten around his fair share over the years, he feels safe to say he knows pretty much the names of them all and yet the HMS Jeremiah is not one of them. But there had been a ship not an HMS under that name he had heard of, hadn't there... Yes. Yes there had been, but a rumour of one linked to some hush-hush project and little else. "Sir," he says, stepping forward when there is a break in the talking. "This ship we are to report to. The Jeremiah. I recall a rumour it was attached to a secret project of sorts. What more can you tell us about it?"
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Oct 19, 2016 16:06
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He returns the Commander's wry smile with one of his own, albeit after a sigh. "Well, at least we are not alone in the bloody dark then, Sir." He supposes answers on that front will have to wait until they have reached their destination and now there is an added eagerness to be off if only to answers these questions gnawing at him. "When do we leave, Sir? I've had about all the rest and relaxation I can stand for now. Eager to get back into it." After a moment he follows with another question and a grin. "And do tell me I get to fly us there myself, Sir?" To Harry, he says. "Just so long as I'm the one dropping the bombs, eh?"
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Oct 19, 2016 16:26
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood The grin grows wider under his moustache. "Thank you, Sir," He snaps off a salute. "I'll be sure to show them how it's done." With nothing left he can think to ask, he allows the pull of being finally underway and to get to fly once more to get the better of him. "Well then, we'll get to it, Sir. On behalf of us all, may I thank you for your hospitality over these last weeks. We'll be sure to give those Jerries hell for you, Sir." He gives one final salute followed by a nod and smile then he waits for the others to ask any questions they might have before he leaves to gather up his gear.
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Oct 19, 2016 16:50
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Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood He enjoys a smoke during their walk up along the airstrip toward the 'Dokata' class which he had been observing during his downtime. He's wearing more or less the same garb that Captain Whitaker greets them in, knowing full well himself just how cold it can get high above God's Earth. He makes introductions with the Captain and steps up into the iron beast, tapping the tobacco out of his pipe on the side of the plane before he steps in; a tradition he still keeps before a flight. Usually he prefers to check the aircraft himself before flights; making sure tires are checked for blister cuts, no leakage from hydraulic brake lines, etc. Half of this flying business is done before you leave the ground, as he often says. But here it seems the crew have already carried out such checks and they are merely waiting on their passengers to load up, so he'll have to trust in their precautions. It wouldn't do to step on anyone's toes, after all. Once inside, he steps up in the cockpit at Captain Whitaker's request. He does correct the Captain on his surname though. "It's Barton-Morewood, Sir," he says offhandedly. He'd never let someone leave out his dear ol' dad's surname, even he was a Captain. Up in the cockpit, he makes introductions with Standish and Blake, happy to see some RAF lads joining them for the ride. He snaps off a salute and shakes the hand of Lieutenant Peasley as he sits in the co-pilot's chair and adjusts it so his eye-level is center with the windshield. "Glad to be aboard, Sir," he shouts over the roar of the engines as he fixes on his earphones with the left one off so as to still hear Peasley. "I've spent far too long on solid ground, I'll be happy when we're airborne!" And it seems the crew are all too eager to be off too, with him barely settling in and helping Peasley through the rest of the pre-flight checklist before the go ahead is given for takeoff. He takes hold of the wheel in front of him as they taxi to the runway and assists Peasley in his co-pilot duties of keeping an eye on the pressure instruments, throttle and the RPM as the man takes them into a textbook takeoff. His grin is very wide as they leave the ground below them and he takes his place back up in the sky once more. "Wheels up and pressure zero," he says after retracting the landing gear and returning it to neutral. "So where are you boys from?" he says as he checks over the instruments. Might as well make conversation if it's to be a long flight. "They bought me in from the 73rd. I'd been based in Malta and drat near every other country in Europe before all this. After the B.O.B I never thought anything would be as exciting, but this bloody well looks to rival it! Say, any of you chaps know much about this Jeremiah were heading to?"
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Oct 20, 2016 13:51
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