The Great War Rp

Dusk , The Western Front , 1914 By the Reckoning of Caroline.

Dear Diary-


The air is filled with smoke and blood , artillery shells land all around , shaking the earth,throwing dirt high in the air , as though the saints themselves had gotten bored and decided to throw stones down at us mere mortals for amusement. I have the watch tonight , the damn Rhine is pounding our men half way to hell ,then kicking them all the way back. I'm pulling sentry duty tonight , with a native Albine , I forget his name , but he's a good enough chap by my reckoning , it's strange seeing so many men with so many different flags on their shoulders , all working together. It's a miracle we all speak The Queen's Albine , even the Galls do, The Great Big Pot , they call our battalion from what I here. They say it's because we've so many different flavors of men , I say it's because our rears are being set aflame , it's all rather unnatural , machines that make the earth quake and the teeth chatter, I wish that I could find the cunt who made artillery ,so I could smack him across the jaw . Caroline above I really hope ma never gets her hands on this journal , I swear even if I die she'll come to my grave to lecture me.

With a satisfied little nod Peter sets his diary down for now at the bottom of the little sentry dugout "Oi , Albine , tell me again how you got roped into this duty? Aren't you a courier?"

"Seems your battalion is low on men, and there's nothing that needs delivering at the moment" Private Reeves said fiddling with revolver maintenance, he didn't even have a rifle or shotgun, only his pistol, his wand, and a knife. He was just reloading it after finishing up, he spun the cylinder and pushed it back in

"Saints above you've only got a revolver " Peter mutters as he slowly scans the flaming deathtrap that is no mans land , magical artillery leaving long lasting balefire puddles along the pounded Gallic dirt.

Reeve chuckled at that and held up a bullet for the soldier to see, he had personally enchanted all his bullets "Believe me it's more than enough, and I have this..." he motioned to the wand on his belt

Peter simply raises a brow , aside from a few minuscule runes , it looks like a regular bullet to the average soldier "Enchanted bullets eh? "

"Always" The specialist known as reeve replied "I have to be fast and rifles are too clunky... so I improvise" He said

Peter nods "Unsuited for the trenches though , hopefully we can get you a good rifle eh?" He replies with a smirk as he looks over the round . Then leaps several feet into the air when an artillery shell lands not far away "Saint Octavia's bouncing bosom!" He growls.

Reeve was not so jumpy, he ran through enemy lines on a motorbike routinely, it gave him nerves of steel. "Oh I'd say incendiary rounds are prety well suited for the trenches" he cassually replied

" You ever fought in one mate ?" He asks with a wry smile as he spots movement across No Man's Land "Shhhh , I see someone" He mutters as he quickly checks his machine gun to see if it's firing.

"No I'll check it out..." Reve cast a spell to camoflauge himself which was not too difficult sense it was night, which had been very useful and important on his missions. He could then pop his head up to look around without worrying about getting it taken off

Stalking up across the muddy desolation of no man's land is a Rhinic trench raider , equipped with a suit of enchanted plate armor and a wicked looking trench club.

(german?)

(What're u talking about?)

"Trench raider" He whispered and took out his wand, an electric spell would handle this swiftly and he had the drop on him so he had the time to cast

Peter nods and draws his combat knife , breathing quick.

Reeve was able to cast a powerful electric bolt at the metal clad trench raider as he had a moment to charge it up.

With a popping crackle and a steaming hiss the raider flies back , a burning hole steaming in the middle of his breastplate . The enchantment visibly cracking along the armor , as it was unable to block a point blank lightning bolt. Only a few seconds later the artillery shells start flying down again , one of them demolishing the raiders body entirely, sending a limb flying into the dug-out.

"See he's not such a bad guy... always willing to lend a hand" Reeve made a bad pun as the arm flew into their trench

Peter screams in surprise and leaps back as the limb hits it's leg "Saint's be damned!" He curses .

Reeve chuckled and picked it up before throwing it out of the trench "Oh don't be so spooked"

"Oh to hell with that , that's an arm!" He replies , breath shaky.

"No shit, you have two of them" The mage pointed out unconcerned

"An arm not attached to it's body you sly cunt! Why the hell are you so calm?" He asks in a harsh whisper , as yelling to loud will just bring machine gun or sniper fire down on them.

"Wy aren't you? it's just dead meat and bones" Reeve said offering the other bloke a cigarette

Peter sighs and excepts the cigarrette with a small frown "It's a miracle we even managed to get to these trenches with these bloody bright white and yellow uniforms the galls' gave us" He mutters.