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Legend tells of evil residing in the Black Forest of Germany. An evil land where German scientists did experiments on villagers. They turned them into "Inhabitants", as the Germans call them. The Inhabitants were thought as a myth, but lately, American and Soviet patrols in the forests have completely disappeared...
Rules:
- No ubering
- No OD'ing
- And other standard rules.
CS:
Name:
A.ge: (18 or above.)
Military: (What military were you in? German, American, Soviet, or British?)
Weapon: (Pick one WWII firearm, and one melee weapon.)
Appearance:
Bio: |
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Name: Ivan Lenanov
A.ge: 23
Military: Soviet
Weapon: SVT-40 W/ mid range Scope, combat knife.
Appearance: Tallish, standard infantry uniform, black combat boots, brown ushanka.
Bio: Ivan was on a patrol in the Black Forests when the Inhabitants attacked, devouring his squad, and making him flee to a cave in the forest. |
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CS:
Name: Eddie 'Wizard' Magee
A.ge: (18 or above.) 25
Military: (What military were you in? German, American, Soviet, or British?) American
Weapon: (Pick one WWII firearm, and one melee weapon.) Thompson and a Bowie knife.
Appearance: Average height, standard special ops fatigues with a maroon beret. Black hair, a few scars and Avaitor shades.
Rank: (I just decided I wanted to put that) Captain (I'll change it if it's too high. I chose it because my uncle was a captain during WWII)
Bio: All that is known about him is he came from a poor family and joined the army in hopes of making it high up in the ranks. |
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matletJoin Date: 2009-03-13
Post Count: 1117 |
CS:
Name: Matt Madden
A.ge: 18
Military: American[Could I be on loan from the irish army?]
Weapon: Springfield M1903 W/ Long range scope, and a bayonet[modified to fit the muzzle of his gun]
Appearance: Shaggy brown/black hair, medium height, freckles, basic army unfiorm
Bio: On loan to the american army when his group was ambushed, by the inhabitants, but he escaped and took cover up in trees.
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( Madden. Loan, it's not American football)
Name: Edward Richtofan
A.ge. 34
Military: German.
Weapon: A mp40 and a Luger.
Appearance: He wear's a yellow campaign officer's uniorm; with a you know what on his arm. He wear's black hat with the German eagle on the side, he wear's dark brown boot's. He has a deep scar on his left cheek and a slight stubble.
Bio: Beware The Doc". A message that was scrawled across walls of every town under Axis control. Starvation may cripple you, dysentery may wreck you, and gunfire may rip the flesh from your bones, but "Beware The Doc".
This is Dr. Richtofen, known affectionately as The Butcher to his victims as they scream in agony moments before he snuffs out their light. All through his career, Richtofen has been at the forefront of torture and information extraction research. Richtofen is an incurable sociopath and sees no moral distinction between natural death and murder; the victim is the victim, regardless of how their demise manifests itself.
Doctor Richtofen has a collection of stuffed animals, most of them posed in positions of terror at the instant of their death. He is also a member off the Illuminati. |
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matletJoin Date: 2009-03-13
Post Count: 1117 |
[....My last name is really madden, and also the military does loan soilders to each other] |
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Name: Jacob Turnbery
A.ge: (18 or above.) 19
Military: (What military were you in? German, American, Soviet, or British?) American
Weapon: (Pick one WWII firearm, and one melee weapon.) M1 Garand, a makeshift knife made from the steel of a solider's helemt, with sharp and spikey sides to tear flesh.
Appearance: Jacob has green eyes, brownish hair and fair skin. He is wearing the standard private's uniform, and in his helmet's mesh he has a picture of his parents.
Bio: Jacob is from a small town and honed his shooting skills with his' uncle's rifle on tin cans. He likes pizza and is very resourceful. |
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They would not loan a 18 year old, they loan pro's, it'll take year's to become past the rank of Sargent. |
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Name: Jake Mallory
A.ge: 22
Military: U.S. Air Corps
Weapon: M-1 Garand, Pop-top mags and upgraded iron sights. Melee: Survival machete.
Appearance: Blue eyes, sandy hair
Bio: Went into Europe flying P-51 Mustangs for combat air patrol and close air support. His last mission before going down in the Black Forest was to protect Soviet Sturmoviks passing through German-occupied airspace... |
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(Eh... I don't know about you guys, but I'm starting this thing.)
Jake Mallory
1600 hours
Somewhere above the Black Forest, Germany...
*Loses sight of both Sturmoviks, and swithes the radio channel over to Wingmen*
Me: Have you guys seen them since we got into the fog?
Wingman (Joe Shinka): Nah. No radio contact, either. This is weird, man...
Me: Lemme know if you see anything.
*After a few minutes of flying and trying to contact the Sturmoviks, we hear another set of roaring engines, not the Sturmoviks.*
Joe: ButcherBirds! 6-o' clock!
Me: Whip it around, Joe!
*Joe and I each whip our sticks back and to the right, pulling a corkscrew. Bullets fly past us. we dive to 5,000 feet.*
Me: I see one! It's and FW-190.
Joe: There's at least two more. *Machine gun fire in background* Hoo-ee! I got one! He's smoking in!
*I throttled up, punched my drop tanks, and let loose a short burst of fire on the FW-190. It starts to smoke, and pulls up. I follow it, nearly collinding with Joe, who was flying 600 feet above.*
Joe: Watch it, buddy! I almost rammed AND shot you.
Me: Drag the fight up here, where we can see. *I burst out of the low-lying fog*
*The FW is pulling a tight turn to the right. I tilt my plane over sideways and pull the stick into my chest. I get a good lead on him and fire, raking his wings apart. He bails out and the plane goes down, burning.*
Me: I got one. Kill number 4 this week.
Joe: Heh. I just lost one, went down into the fores-- *A huge shuddering sound in the background* Woah! I'm hit! Not bad, but I losty my left landing gear!
Me: I see ya, Shinka. I'm coming.
*I dive down and search for an FW shooting at Joe, but there isn't one. I look around, in time to see a burning Sturmovik come down and sheer off Joe's tail, he goes down into the fog*
Me: JOE! *He doesn't reply*
Me: JOE!
*I wait for an explosion, but there isn't one.*
*A voice crackles over a very staticky radio* Erck... *Cough, cough, cough...* Yeah, I'm alive.... I ditched in a frozen lake... I'll.... Be fine.... Continue with the mis...*It crackels away*
Me: Joe! I'm gonna take care of these planes, and-- *My plane shudders horribly, and a ButcherBird whirls past my cockpit*
Me: GAHHH!*I see oil leaking from my engine, and feel an indescribable pain in my thigh, Hit with a 30. Caliper bullet. The oil pressure guage is dropping darastically, and my engine sputters out a bunch of soot, and dies. I know I have to ditch or bail out. I aim for the place joe hit, and hope for the best. I hit the icy lake going 90 miles an hour, and blacked out* |
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XiliriteJoin Date: 2009-10-31
Post Count: 6995 |
Wait, I need to do some research. I like to be accurate when it comes to World War threads. |
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XiliriteJoin Date: 2009-10-31
Post Count: 6995 |
Name: Alistair Williams
A.ge: 23
Military: British
Weapon: De Lisle Commando Carbine (Yes, it did actually exist, go look it up.) and a standard Combat Knife.
Appearance: Tall and Fair Skinned, with Short Brown Hair and Dark Green Eyes. He wears a standard British Uniform, although it has a rip on the arm, with a healing cut and a lot of dried blood.
Bio: Lt. Alistair Williams is the Grandson of a WW1 soldier, who was one of the many who died during the Battle of the Somme. When WW2 started, he decided to join, thinking of how he would prove to the world that he was a hero, and was under the impression that he would destroy entire armies on his own. Although he was a skilled soldier, and even got the very rare and limited De Lisle, his eagerness, confidence, and his ego had all taken a huge blow after his first battle. |
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Jake Mallory
1700 hours, 10 minutes after impact
Lake Mumelsee, Black Forest, Germany...
(Note, guys. I messed up. My melee is a Crowbar.)
*I awoke in my plane to a sickening crunching sound, and a lurch. I realize my Mustang is embedded in the ice, and beginning to sink. I jump up to the canopy release, but part of the landing gear is crammed into it, and it's not budging. I reach around behind my seat and grab my survival pack, and search through it, despearately.*
Me: Nothing in here.... The crowbar! *I unbuckle and search around the bottom right side of my chair. The plane lurches again, and I see water starting to come over the engine cowling. I notice some silouettes coming toward me, throught the fog, which is quickly turning into a snow storm. I grab the Crowbar and smack it against the right side of the canopy. It starts to crack, and the silouettes are coming closer, and I notice they are human-ish, but are holding no weapons. There are about 10 of them.*
Me: Come on! Come on! *I hit the canopy twice more, and it shatters. I grab my M-1 Garand and climb out, getting my leg cut up by the glass, but I'm okay.*
*Panting from shock, I watch as the nose of the plane sinks below the ice. I tear off a hanging piece of sheet metal from the wing, and start to army crawl across the ice. My eyes wander over to the side of the lake where the siloettes are. I start to get up, and load a magazine into my Garand*
Me: Star! *There is no reply, but they wander closer, fumbling and falling over. One falls into the ice and sinks, the others don't help it.*
Me: Star! Or I will fire on you! *Still no reply, but they are now close enought for me to see the uniforms. Two are German officers, 5 german grunts, a Soviet, and the other 2 look like civillians. They have yellow eyes, no pupils. Some are missing limbs and body parts.*
Me: *I fire 3 rounds at one of the officers, taking his arm off. He keeps coming, and I put a fourth in his head*
Me: Good god! These... Things are... Like...*I shoot a Soviet troop in the hand, reload, and run*
*They cannot keep up with me, they only fumble-walk, but still follow me. I realize the crowbar is back there*
Me: Hmm... *I keep running* I'll get that soon. I need to take care of these others so-- *My foot slips, and it breaks the ice, and I go down hard. I get back up, and look back. The.... Things are starting to fall into the ice, only 4 left.*
Me: *I fire off 3 of my rounds, dropping two of them and getting another's leg, tearing it in half. It hits the ground and starts to crawl, but falls into an open hole.*
Me: Well, they don't appear to be very smart... *I shoot my last two, and they miss the last one. another shot rings out, not an M-1, a Springfield. The last one's head is blown apart. It falls.*
Voice: Well, how was it?
Me: *I whirl around, to see Joe Shinka standing there, holding a rifle in his right hand.* Joe.... You're okay?
Joe: Looks like I'm doin' a little better than you. What happened to your leg?
*I look down and see my leg bleeding horribly, the bullet still there. I have the survival pack in my hand, along with the sheet metal. I have no idea how I still have these. Must've been the adrenaline rush.*
Me: I think I've got some first aid in here...
Joe: Let's get back to shore, first... I don't like this place man.... I got attacked by abunch of those things when I hit... Did your plane sink?
Me: Yeah, I think so.
Joe: Well, mine's on shore. Come on, It's some shelter from the wind. We might be able to get a fire started. |
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I assume I'm accepted. Not going to RP unitl Im sure I'm right. |
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Jake Mallory
1900 hours, 2 hours 3 minutes after impact
'The Camp', Black Forest, Germany...
*I wake to find Joe gone, and my feet next to a small fire. I'm lying in a small, but fairly warm shelter made from piece of the wing off a Mustang-Joe's Mustang. Another object catches my hazy eye, a bloody 30. caliper bullet on a piece of paper. I try to focous on the paper, but my leg is throbbing so much, I can hardly concentrate. I finally make out "Jake- Went out to get some food. Thought you might want this as a souvnier. Also, found your crowbar out by the ice hole. Be back by sundown. -Joe."*
Me: Sundown, eh? *I look up at the sky, now brewing into a snowstorm. I figure there's about a half hour of daylight left.*
Me: Well, he'll probably be back any time, now. Mabye I can get up and walk some... *I grab my M-1, using it as a crutch, and lift myself up. My leg throbbs even harder, but once I'm up, the pain subsides a bit, and I can walk a little, with my rifle for support. I bend down and grab my crowbar, and look it over*
Joe: *I hear him trudge up from behind, humming a tune* Hey, Jake. I see you're up. How's the leg?
Me: Fine, Joe. Still hurts a little. Thanks for the, er, 'Souvenier'.
*Joe chuckes a little and throws a dead hare down in the snow.*
Joe: Dinner. You ever had rabbit?
Me: Nah. You make it sound like you have.
Joe: Heh. I had a little when we were running out of food at Post '307. Went out and shot a rabit, cooked it up. They're delicious. *He licks his lips, unsheaths a combat knife, and starts to skin the hare. I lose my balance and fall back into the snow, but I catch myself, getting back up. I look at the pine-and-metal walls Joe built around the camp.*
Me: Rescue? You tried usin' the radio?
Joe: I've tried, Jake. Nothing. It's almost like we're being jammed. Wouldn't be suprised if we were...
Me: Run into any of those... Things?
Joe: *A dark look passes over his face* Jake, I need to talk to you after dinner. For now, let's eat... |
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sean1Join Date: 2008-04-26
Post Count: 6026 |
(guys i need to get off but ill post my Char sheet tomomorrow if its ok.) |
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Asassin37Join Date: 2008-08-30
Post Count: 9116 |
Name: Vladimir Zhukov
A.ge: 32
Military: Soviet
Weapon: Scoped Mosin Nagant Bolt-Action, Russian combat knife
Appearance: Worn Red Army Uniform, Balaclava, Scarf
Bio: A sniper who fought in the defense of Stalingrad during the German invasion. He was sent into Germany to siege Berlin after during the invasion. |
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RedMertJoin Date: 2008-08-01
Post Count: 868 |
Name: Alek Vladivosturmik
A.ge: 27
Military: Soviet
Weapon: PP-SH 41 and a Nozh Razvedchika (Soviet combat knife)
Appearance: Dirty rolled up Soviet Officers shirt with various grenades and tools hanging on it, Red cloth wrapped around head like a headband. Tattered soviet pants.
Bio: Appeared out of no were in germany holding off a full platoon of N*azi's in berlin. |
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primatisJoin Date: 2010-07-09
Post Count: 7012 |
CS:
Name: Isaias Gerena
A.ge: 24
Military: Soviet
Weapon: Dragons's breath and butcher knife. >:D (the dragon's breah is a real gun. it was in black ops ^_^)
Appearance: Dark brown wavy hair, hazel eyes average height. soviet military uniform.
Bio: N/A |
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Jake Mallory
Losing track of time, something like 2 and a half hours after impact
'The Camp', Black Forest, Germany...
*We sit down and start on the snow hare. It's delicious, just like Joe said.*
Me: So, what was it you needed to tell me?
Joe: Jake, you've heard the stories the Marines told in the O' club, right?
Me: What? They tell crazy stories about everything.
Joe: Jake, think. Where are we right now?
Me: The black forest. About 50 miles in some random direction from base.
Joe: And what's the thing going around about what lives out here?
Me: I dunno what your talking about, Jo-- *It hits me. He's talking about the "Inhabitants", zombies throught to have been created "Accidentally" By the Germans.*
Me: Joe-- How do you--*I'm interrupted by footfalls in the snow behind the pine/metal fence. I load the nearest clip into my Garand, get up, and aim. Two golden eyes stare back at me. I pull the trigger. Nothing. I grab the neck and barrel, and swing the butt of it at its head. After a shower of blood, it goes down, and spasms a bit. Then stops.*
Me: Well... it's getting dark. You get some rest, and I'll take the first watch. Don't worry. I'll load a full clip in next time...
*Using my crowbar, I tear some aluminum skin off the top of the wing shelter, and set it agianst the side to help keep some wind out of it. Then I climb up the fuselage and sit in the smashed pilot's seat, my rifle across my lap. my shredded-up pant leg is freezing, so I pull the spare jacket out of the under-dash compartment. A piece of paper falls from above the compartment, and I pick it up. It's a photograph of Joe's parents and him standing by a fountain in front of Boston University.*
(Cue soft piano music. :3)
Me: Right after he graduated... *I glance up, and see nothing. Then down at the wing shelter. I climb down and set the picture next to Joe, who is asleep. I climb back up, wrap the jacket around my leg, and lay the rifle across my lap. Then I wait.* |
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cocacola8Join Date: 2010-08-19
Post Count: 1194 |
Name:Jason hudson
A.ge: 26
Military:USA
Weapon:Bar gun
Appearance:white shirt and brown hair with blue eyes
Bio:was trained his whole life no he going to find out how good he is |
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sean1Join Date: 2008-04-26
Post Count: 6026 |
(hey...umm primatis
,dragons breath is a cold war attachment,not a gun,and anyways,this is WWII,not the cold war....) |
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primatisJoin Date: 2010-07-09
Post Count: 7012 |
(awwwwwwwww. Ok my gun is Olympia. Another gun in lack ops ^_^) |
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