/wfg/ Writefag General: Wild Ian spotted edition

Holy shit ma, you have no idea what it means for me to see someone actually showing interest.

On the topic of continuation:
As I've said, I've got a plan on how it all ends (and it really is now just the matter of grabbing intel, exfilling, handing over the culprites and jumping away) and the short epilogue(s)

But the problem is, I don't really have much written down (few disconnected sentences. definitely not enough for another dump) and I find it hard to just sit down and just pour the words on screen.
I mean, I've got ideas and even few crucial moments and dialogues ready, but the problem is the filler, descriptions and all the text leading to and from the important plot points.
I don't know if those explanations make any sense to you, but that's the best way I can describe this.

That being said, I'll definitely try to finish it, since I already have another story in the works.
Even more so, now that I see there's actual audience.

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Here's another (You)from a lurker then, I also want to see you keep going.

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do it (you)

Given the limitations of medieval manufacturing, what could a modern person do if TRUCKED into a medieval world - in particular if they know how to make saltpetre (and by extension, gunpowder)?

soon

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To read the full story for any new readers, here's a summary of the universe:

>Alt history world based on Dutch/German/English influences
>Post-Merge world is a wild west with vast new and unexplored territories transported to our world from the opposite world
>All pre-Merge power structures have collapsed and gave rise to independent city-states or confederacies/soverignties

>Federal States of Nortelande=USA
>standard fantasy world with elves, orcs, goblins, etc
>Kaissereich=Germany
>Norskea=Norway+Sweden
>Zwarteria=Africa
>Markaya=South East Asia countries

I encourage you to read last thread if you don't the story to be spoiled
>story is set ~11 years After Merge (11 AM)
>MC is a merc in a recon squad of a company sized mechanized merc convoy deploying from northwestern Nortelande to post-Merge southern Nortelande on a mission to train a bunch of new wood elf arrivals that keep being harassed by orcs, goblins, and basically most nig races
>the story being continued now is set at night

This concludes the summary

>adjusting zoom on a PU scope

Cont.

>breathing a sigh of relief, you turn over to a steaming Tunnel Rat, his face twisted in anger
>"THAT MOTHERFUCKER!!!!" he exclaimed
>"Calm down Rat, I can't risk you NDing in a truck full of ammo and milsurp."
>"He tried to run us over! user! How the fuck are you this calm! I swear to GOD! That damn Topsider!" Rat bangs his right hand on a wooden ammo crate with enough force to split the wood.
>"You can't trust these motherfucker! From the moment his kind moved to the Underground they've done nothing but betray us!" yells Rat
>"The fuck are you on about Rat? What the hell is a Topsider?" you ask
>"OH??! So you don't know huh? Well, allow me to enlighten you." says Rat
>"Before the Merge and during the Second Pan-Continental War, Neu Hawe was a port city with heavy industry outside the city limits. Most of the workers lived in the city because of the cheap rent, so the city decided to build an underground rail network connecting the city to the factories."
>Rat continued, "But after the Zhukovia surrendered to the Kaisserreich, the war effor factories were no longer needed, so they the workers were no longer needed either."
>"So what else were we supposed to do? There's not that many better paying jobs in the city, most of us can't afford to make back home, so we became homeless."
>"Hundreds died in the winter because they couldn't find shelter, those fucking Topsiders were too preoccupied with their pockets to even give us enough to feed ourselves, so what did we do? We moved underground and lived like rats because to them we were just that! Rats!"
>Rat is getting more aggravated now, the other merc in the truck was feeling more and more like a third wheel
>Rat continued, "At least down there we treated each other with respect, we didn't bother anyone and they wouldn't bother us. That is, until the fucking mayor decided they wanted to build a damn sewage in the old underground."

Cont.

Attached: rats of society.jpg (1024x728, 130K)

Cont.

>"The city wanted to get rid of us because 'no one wanted to get near the old metro entrances' or 'the metro entrances are disrupting the city's image'."
>"They eventually got the excuse they wanted when they wanted to expand on the city's sewage system and decided to evict us from the tunnels."
>"Greedy pigs" Rat spat out, his face beet red from the rage
>"So we sent in our best diplomats, to try and get us living arrangements and work, but they wanted us to live in slums instead."
>"When negotiations broke down, they sent in the cops to flush us out like the rats they think we are. Big mistake." Rat is smirking now
>"A wise man once said, 'When a terrier leaves a rat no way to escape, the rat will fight back with the might of a thousand bears.'..." Rat stops to to rub his stubble

>"... so that's what us 'rats' did to the 'terriers'. We fought them tooth and nail for every inch of those tunnels. We would set nail bombs and flood the abandoned stations with infected rats. The children were taught to shoot set ambushes, the women would rather charge with their fists than run away from the fucking pigs... "
>"This was our home, and we'd rather die as in the dark as rabid rats, than to live in the light as pests, fearful of the exterminators."
>"Entire captured stations of men, women, and children were forced up the surface after years of living underground, without any protection from the light and go permanently blind, and what happens to them? They live in slums or on the streets, hounded like frightened rats by people who don't want us up there."
>"The Merge was the best thing to happen to us. The situation got so bad City Hall called upon the nearby army garrison for help, but before they mobilized all hell went loose above ground, and then we became the hunters." Rat had a cruel face, twisted into a sadistic smile

Cont.

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New link to the optional discord. (entry not required.)

discord.gg/uD5ctwW

For writers and lurkers alike. Just make sure to announce which one you are when you enter.

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Cont.

>"So when shit hit the fan upstairs, thousands of 'innocent civilians who did nothing wrong' flooded our tunnels with the look of fear in their eyes. We simply treated them like they did to us. We have fought tooth and nail for our homes, and we demand they give us the tooth and nails we lost."
>Rat is playing with his Owen gun, patting the baby-shit green top loader like a pet dog
>"The first wave of 'refugees' were 'triaged' and 'quarantined' for any diseases they might have carried with them. Then we booted out those who were 'infected', those who resisted were escorted to the latrine pits and shot. When their families realized their family didn't come back, they knew what we had become, and what they had become..."
>"... they were the invaders now, and we were just doing some house cleaning." said Rat
>your face and the other merc's was one of abject horror
>Rat paused, his face totally neutral to your reactions.
>"You wouldn't understand user, you never would. You've lived in the light your whole life. I on the other hand didn't see the light until I was a grown man, and by then I had embraced the dark... "
>"They never gave us a choice, they gave life and servitude, we responded with liberty or death. The Founding Patriarchs of this husk of a country would've preferred it that way. Our ancestors are smiling upon us, can Funker's ancestors really say the same about themselves?" said Rat

Cont.

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Cont.

>you remain silent, "Still, they never did anything wrong to you! They're just civilians for God's sake!"
>Rat shook his head, his eyes filled with tears and anger
>"... Do you know what tear gas does to a person user? A short exposure in an open environment is fine..."
>"... but we were in a tunnel with no place to go, so the gas just wafts there, poisoning entire stations. Those who were caught in the gas were escorted out, but the gas creeps up into other tunnels, slowly permeating into our clothes and skin. Children's eyes were permanently damaged from prolonged exposure, the pregnant and the old slowly suffocated to death, over weeks of time!"
>"It burns you to your very soul user! My sister died in my arms! She couldn't even talk yet man! WE WERE JUST KIDS MAN!!!!"
>Rat has you on your shoulders, tears streaking down his face, face twisted in anger and anguish

>"SHE COULDN'T EVEN CRY FROM THE PAIN ANYMORE user! SHE JUST LAID IN MY ARMS GASPING FOR AIR!!!" Rat was screaming at this point
>"SHE WAS ALL I HAD LEFT MAN!!! THE COPS BEAT MY MOTHER TO DEATH AND TORTURED MY FATHER FOR INFORMATION ABOUT THE SICK AND NON-COMBATANTS user! THEY DIDN'T LET US GET AWAY MAN!!!"

>"So when the 'refugees' came down for our help, expecting mercy, they were sorely disappointed. They got their medicine alright, and if they didn't like it, they can eat shit for all I care."
>you were too paralyzed to move
>"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON BACK THERE!!! WHAT KIND OF FAGGOT SHIT IS RAT TALKING ABOUT." yelled Grunk from the driver's cabin
>"FUCK YOU GREENNIGGER, HUMANS ARE TALKING!" yelled Rat
>"WELL SHIT EXCUSE ME! HOW'S ABOUT YOU STOP BITCHING AND START SHOOTING, LOOK BEHIND YOU, YOU IDIOT!" yelled Grunk, his voice silencing Rat.

Cont.

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Cont.

It's the deer-woman fucker again
>time to operate on this malignant tumor
>Rat is back to his normal neutral self.
>"She's got a problem with death?" say Rat
>"Bitch is in for a surprise, we're mercs, we're merchants of death, and if she wants to fill our coffers, we'll fill her coffin." says Rat in a cold expression, loading a fresh 30 round mag into his Owen, racking the charging handle with gusto
>genocidemodeactivated.csgas
>"Fuck the guns, we've got all the firepower we need right here." you say, patting the wooden box Rat punched open

>"Mk. IV Fragmentation Grenades, DO NOT JOSTLE."

>"Excellent." whispers Rat
>the both of you and the extra prep a system.
>the merc would pass along grenades
>you and Rat would cook them and throw
>the first dual barrage of grenades tore the creature's thigh muscles to ribbons
>she stumbles and rolls over herself like a wheel
>but she regains her composure and keeps closing in with the truck
>"OH YOU WANT MORE YOU SHITTY MOLDY PIECE OF VENISON?! GET SOME!!!" yells Rat as he throws two more cooked grenades at the creature
>the nades go off, shredding her lower torso and exposing the rib cage
>"Pass me the .30!" you ask the merc
>Rat acts as the assistant gunner and feeds the .308 cal belt fed as you tear through an entire belt of ammo
>200 rounds of glorious real-fuckin' tears through the quickly fleeting body of the creature ripping up piece of asphalt and sending flesh and bone 5 feet high
>the bitch gets up, the antlers of the deer skull shattered and splintered off, like wood

Cont.

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Cool to here it. I'll check on you again next bread if you haven't gotten an update to us by then.

Those medieval hand cannons would probably be pretty easy, since the medieval folk should already have a rough idea of how to make those. Anything more complicated, you'd probably have to bring the knowledge of with you, or tinker it out. Keep in mind the tinkering in our timeline took fucking decades, so there is that.

go to /out/, they have a book thread going.
but 'Camping and Woodcraft' i hear is good

also peterson field guides

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Cont.

>you and Rat could hardly believe it
>all the mushroomed and fragmented .308 rounds pop out of her wounds like blackheads on an orc's ass
>her biceps start to bulge as new muscle grow in the place of damaged tissue
>the tattered remains of her jeans and shirt ripping to shreds as they fail to contain her burgeoning mass
>the tattered remains of her sneakers creaking and bulging as her feet grow more and more monstrous
>the canvas and rubber can no longer handle the growing mass of her monstrous feet
>the bra she that still managed to withhold the ravages of time burst open as the rotting flesh and fat of her breasts grew
>the mother fucker's 10 feet tall now
>it's like bullets only make it grow bigger
>"Ahh fuck this shit, move over!"
>the previously speechless merc, tossing back his black beret and holding a red 40mm grenade
>he loads it into a Mk79 "Stumper" and takes aim at the beast
>"Something cool." he said as he pulled the trigger
>a thumping sound can be heard before the creature bursts into an intense red light
>its screaming is surprisingly human like as its newly acquired muscle mass burns to a singe
>"Let's see how the bitch likes thermite." says the woodland clad merc in a Volk accent
>the burning pyre of the beast lays on the asphalt, quickly disappearing as the truck puts distance between you and the inferno

Cont.

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Cont.

>"Wish we had that in Markaya" you say
>the merc puts back on his black beret over his slicked back black hair and breaths a sigh of relief
>"Name's Henning... anyone got a light?" says the merc as he retrieves a mushroom cig from a slim nickel brushed case
>you offer him your Rippo lighter
>he slouches over to light his cig, puffing out a thick cloud of sweet smelling white smoke
>"That thing's going to be back, bigger and meaner too." he says as he admires your Rippo
>"Excuse me, what th... " you begin but is interrupted
>"That's 'Excuse me, Major' to you Lieutenant." interjects Major Henning
>"Right, excuse me Major, but what the fuck is that?" you ask in a slightly angered tone
>Henning takes another puff of his cigarette, blowing it out his nose before responding
>"That Lieutenant user, is what we refer as in the trade as a 'Wendigo'..." he says before taking in another puff
>"That girl you brought in was bad news, my guess is that she's somehow connected to that thing. Best course of action is to throw her out of the 6x6 before it catches up to us." he says apathetically
>this stirs up a paternal anger in you as you lunge at the Major
>he ducks and you crash into a wooden ammo crate
>"Gotta be quicker than that Lieutenant, I know that will be." he says without missing beat and smoking
>"I ain't gonna leave her to that monster!" you yell
>"That's your choice to make, but when time comes, when it's just me and the girl, I'm cashing her in for my life." he says in a threatening monotone
>you grit your teeth, but deep inside you know he's right. This thing wouldn't have chased you if you hadn't tried to save the girl, but what the hell were you supposed to do?

Cont.

>Mosin hitting anything

nvm

I FUCKING FOUND IT.

Posting the link in case anyone else cared. pastebin.com/bZCykDbx

>you lean back in exhaustion and pull out your own cigarette
>where the fuck's your lighter?
>Henning leans in and lights your cigarette
>"You really love that girl don't you." he asks, his tone getting considerably softer
>you look at the 5'10" man hesitantly, still trying to feel him out
>"I think we're all she has left in this world." you say, accepting the light
>Henning gives you your Rippo back and asks you a question
>"... You were in Markaya weren't you?" his eyes down trodden and dark
>"... yeah,12th Motorized. Platoon leader. '68 to '70, Ia Draco, Jue City, L'Ashkar, and Angiang. You?"
>Henning hesitates, jaws clenched and eyes soft, he sighs and says...
>"... Daniel Henning, 1st Valskerm Jagters Division, 505th Valskerm Jagters Brigade, 8th Battalion, 3rd Company, 2nd Platoon. Squad leader. L'Beouf, Rock Pile, Karsk, Point Dien Benis, Ia Draco..." he says
>your eyes go wide with the realization, the Black Berets: "Reign Hell From Above"
>"Oh shit! You were in Ia Draco?!"

>Ia Draco was one of the bloodiest battles of the Markayan Emergency, with a whole battalion of Nortelande's finest Valskerm Jagters being air lifted into a large clearing to establish a base of operations, only to be overwhelmed by enemy artillery hidden in the mountains
>had it not been for the efforts of the 2nd Valskerm "Vuur Krag", their battalion batteries "Yster Krag", and the 12th Motorized's relief column, Ia Draco would go down as the most embarrassing defeat for a modern army against a technologically inferior force

>Henning simply nods, "Not proud of it." and finishes his cig
>"Look, if you really care for that girl you'd teach her how to use a gun. Maybe if she learned how to shoot we wouldn't have this damned thing chasing us... " he hesitates
>"... She's just a kid, they can't defend themselves and in this world anyone who doesn't know how to use a gun won't last long." he says as he reminisces the past
>"... I know from experience..."
>oh fuck
Cont.

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Cont.

>"Got another light Lieutenant? God I miss real tobacco."
>you offer him a light, he takes deeper heavy puff, coughing a bit in the process
>"After the war I went home. Tried to become a manager or some other white collar job, I don't remember, it seems like an eternity ago." he takes another toke, holding it in for extra nicotine
>"But that life was never for me any way, my wife got angry at me for coming home drunk and shit faced... " he puffs
>"... her patience ran out when she threw a bottle at me and I shot her about an inch from her face." he laughs and then stares into his handgun, a Schmidt and Westmoreland .357 caliber Jow Forums-frame revolver

>please don't off yourself like that elf did
>"Janis took my daughter and made off with a nig and left the house. I was served divorce papers and we separated a month after that. She was about to take my guns and the house too before I burned it down and joined the Gaullian Foreign Legion to teach new recruits in San Vera in Suidlande..."
>"Kept my full giggles though, she hates them too, probably would've turned them in to the government for destruction just to spite me." he spat out
>"Right before the Merge I went back to Nortelande to visit my daughter. I wrote a secret letter back to her every week from my post. She had her own PO box, she kept saying how her grades were improving and how she got into Blackwood High, she would've been 16 that year." he laughs and chuckles, before choking on his cigarette

Cont.

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Cont.

>"Woah, ughhh, Goddamn I take it back these things are pretty strong." he takes a sip from his canteen. His face taking a sober turn of emotions
>"When the Merge happened, a couple thousand Orcs flooded the city. The cops couldn't do anything about it, they didn't even have bolt actions because the damned PD had been embezzling funds and selling arms to niggers, so a couple hundred cops armed with nothing but revolvers and 9mm automatics vs a couple thousand blood hungry orcs, spread out all over the city responding to over a thousand calls for help..." he pauses
>"... well, you know what happens." his soul looks like they've left his eyes
>"I've got no more tears for the past user, I like to think that after all I've been through: Markaya, San Vera... my daughter..." he grimaces at the mention of his daughter
>"... that even after all the bad things I've done I'll still go to heaven..." he pauses before continuing, smoking his cig
>he exhales a cloud of smoke, obscuring his face, "... because I've already faced God's judgement in hell on earth."
>Rat looks at Henning, he looks contemplative before speaking up
>"I'm sure she's in a better place now Major." he chuckles
>My sister would've like her, she likes it when the other older girls in our station read to her."
>Henning looks at Tunnel Rat with a small smile out the corner of his mouth, cigarette dangling off
>"I'm sure she would, Private Brantz."
>"Oh God don't call me that sir, just call me Tunnel Rat, you're reminding me that I'm still under Funker." says Rat getting worked up again
>"Watch it kid, I'm not buddy buddy with you yet." warned Henning
>Rat stands up and salutes with a shit eating grin, "No sir, not yet, sir."
>Henning smiles and quickly exhales through his nose
>"Alright Private, at ease. Before you fall out the damn truck."

Cont.

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youtube.com/watch?v=ABbc-O_3_Ac

Matthews's current theme song.

>Don's face when one of his friends dies

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>one of my all-time favorite songs

Isn't it nice when you unintentionally cater to your fans?

Looking forward to Matthews finally getting his shit pushed in. Especially since he greased Parks.

Cont.

>"Sir? Why would it take a month before the Company sends in reinforcements? How would they know this isn't some radio malfunction?" you ask
>Henning mulls it over. "If they don't get any long range radio calls from the convoy it means most of the vehicles have been destroyed, because all the long ranges beam off of each other, so as long as you still have one or two operational radios then the chances of a broken radio completely breaking off comms is highly unlikely." he stop and pulls out another cig, you light it for him
>"But since we have no way of contacting HQ they'll assume that the whole unit is destroyed and will send in an even larger more equipped force." he pulls out a chocolate bar and takes a bite
>"However it'll take time to recruit that many people, so we might be looking at two or three months to scrap together a larger force and beefed up firepower."
>"How the hell is the Company being paid for all this? We didn't even have shit like this in the army." you say pointing to the Mk 79 Stumper

It gets its name from its ability to turn your enemies to bloody stumps of meat

>"Mineral resources and artifacts Lieutenant." he responds
>"The wood elves we're supplying with training and arms are not from this world, but are rather new immigrants to our world, they managed to get themselves discovered by a local elf town militia and rode to a neighboring human town to use their radio to contact us on an offer." says Henning
>"We get 10% of any gold, silver, and a pick of their finest women apparently." Henning laughs
>"So that's why the Company's definitely going to be reinforcing us, it's just going to take time to organize a large enough force. They'll be packing battle tanks, AFVs, maybe even Sky Phantoms."

Sky Phantom: a turboprop Close Air Support vehicle capable of carrying six napalm canisters + two WP canisters or sixteen Mark 18 Snake Venom High Explosive Ordnance

Cont.

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Cont.

>"How the hell are we gonna train these guys though? Most of the company's dead."
>"Who else but me? I served with the Legion as an instructor remember? And those baguette eating guys take their training seriously so they don't surrender at the blow of a slight breeze." says Henning
>you all chuckle in the back, the yellow incandescent bulb flickering with each bump in the road, weapons rustling in their racks
>"Say what are we transporting anyway?" you ask
>"Mostly a bunch of old Nortelande milsurp, Karbine M98s with the metal cheesegrater heatshield in 8.2mm Krauser, .45 cal Tony guns from old army warehouses that haven't been raided yet, that Antipanzergewehr you used on the dragon, rifle grenade adapters for the M98s, a couple Mk 79s and with thermite, WP, and HE 40 mike mikes..."

>"... You know, shit we don't use anymore but would be perfect for these... savages." says Henning.
>you all sit in silence, having satisfied all your questions
>"user, you should go see to that little girl, I think Funker's going to scare her with his bayonets and shotshell collection." says Henning
>"GRUNK! STOP THE TRUCK!!!"
>"YES SIR!"

Cont.

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shut up

There's context for why Matthews's badge is in his desk. It will come along with the next Don update. Currently working on the MSR Houston incident.

Cont.

>The truck stops, and soon the 6x6 stops too
>you step in front of Rat, "Rat I know you wanna kill Funker, but for God's sake we need him alive, he's the only one who can fix this radio."
>Rat begrudgingly agrees, "Fine, but when this job is over." he sighs
>"You know we were friends once, after my sister and parents left me all I had was my father's knife. I thought about using that so many times that I had to asked him to hide it from me." Rat looks remorsefully, "Maybe that's why I hate him so much. He wouldn't let me die." calming down
>"I don't know user, after hearing about Henning and his daughter... " he trails off looking guilty

You have to say something
>"Rat... he was never your enemy." you say
>Rat looks up at the night sky, taking in the pristine air, with a look of regret on his face
>"But user, I was never his friend." he says wistfully
>you look him in the eyes, thinking about what to say
>"It's not too late to make amends, you guys are supposed to be our CQB specialists, I think you'd make a great team together..." you say
>Rat contemplates the prospect, "You know what user, I think you're right."
>"Thanks for the talk user. I shouldn't blame him for what his ancestors did. We're all in the same boat together anyway, he sinks and we'll all sink."
>you look at Rat as he walks up to the 6x6 and enter, sitting next to Funker.

Cont.

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IDK a Kar98k with a metal upper heatshield looks nice in a WW1 setting.

Attached: this is good you uncouth piggu.jpg (3264x2448, 2.23M)

Last post for tonight guys, have a good one
Cont.

>Liichen walks out holding a distressed looking Sonja, still wrapped up in your zeltbahn, but wearing a pair of Liichen's spare combat boots
>Sonja's eyes widen as she runs towards you, and glomps you, crying into your chest yet again.
>you're going to catch pneumonia one of these days, just a matter of time.
>"Sonja, you shouldn't be running with your feet like that, come one sweety, let's get you some clothes and get into the car." you pick Sonja in a bridal carry and follow Liichen
>"You know user, you'd make for a great father..." says Liichen, walking close to you but never touching

>you look towards the truck, Henning propped up against it smoking another cigarette
>"I don't know, she doesn't belong here." you say
>"A... user? I'll do whatever you want me to... as long as we're together." says Sonja in a quiet voice
>you think about Monika and her dying breaths, you really don't want Liichen or Sonja to be doing them
>"Sonja, I... I don't think...." you say before you're interrupted by her quietly sobbing
>"You're the only one I know who's ever helped me user. Please, don't leave me."
>you stare at her motionlessly
>what do you do?
>if it means an innocent won't suffer, then you'll suffer for her
>"I won't Sonja, I promise I'll always be there for you." you say with grim resolve
>you turn to Liichen, "I can't do this alone Liichen, I'm gonna need help on this one partner." you say
>Liichen warmly smiles at you and Sonja, "Alright user."
>you can't see her face, but you can feel her smiling on your chest
>"Come on sweety, you're getting kinda heavy here, and we still haven't gotten you that schokola I promised you earlier."
>the three of you step into the 6x6 while Henning finishes his cigarette and preps his bedroll in the back of 5 tonner
>"I hope you'll make it out alright user." says Henning
>"Don't make the same mistakes I did."

So much for tonight, I'll see if I can't post tomorrow.

short skirt tall boots bump

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Break from lurking. Enough spare time at work to write again.
Night's Fury 1
>be me
>chilling post-apoc
>still trynna LARP in flecktarn with G3
>stuck innawoods thanks to TPTB
>all my friends are dead
>are they? it's complicated
>I mean, I still see nam when it's bad
>saw rhodie once long ago
>and slav was just trying to talk to me earlier
>was it real? am I dreaming?
>is this the real life? is this just fantasy?
>caught in a landslide, no escape from reality
>no really, I'm stuck
>middle of digging new cache
>dug too deep, partial structure collapse
>didn't think it through or plan it right
>part of it hit hard enough to put me out
>not a big fan of sleep, get weird nightmares
>slav in this dream
>not that kind of dream
>trying to tell me something
>forgot most of it when I woke up
>dug myself out to find a mess
>need to take stock of everything
>rifle is fine
>webbing still attached
>planned cache is a wash
>rucksack and loot got buried
>focusing on unburying rest of gear
>nearly done when there's a familiar presence in the woods
>grab all my loot, bugger off

>three of them, one in front with escorts
>all of them wearing dusters
>Hunters with a capital H
>just my luck
>leftie sporting black spear, bandolieer full of stuff
>right-hand has a spear, but a bundle on the back
>front-guy carrying ornate staff, distinct tracking light shining
>getting real sick of that
>tracks they following really faded
>must've been out a while
>easy enough to keep ahead of them
>hunters stop around dusk
>tent gets set near a campfire
>one in the tent, two by the fire
>tinted lantern set next to watcher
>they know to watch for me

Attached: 1558394486124.png (522x478, 449K)

Night's Fury 2
>start approaching camp after hunters settled
>stop when lantern shifts from normal light to orange
>hear the watcher say "The creature is near!"
>other guy up with a spear, looking nervous
>no sign of staff-guy
>lantern gonna give away the surprise
>easy enough shot with raifu
>lantern shatters on impact
>both hunters jump at G3's bark
>spears and staff left
>watchers start charging towards the gunshot
>what kind of idiot charges an entrenched sniper?
>the kind that lets their opponent sneak past them
>hear them WTFing around sniping spot
>points for finding my old position
>penalty for not spotting me in their rush
>loudest mocking laughter I can manage as I put out their campfire
>camp plunges into darkness
>got the lantern, feeling lucky enough to try for staff too
>enter tent rifle first
>greeted with a facefull of buckshot
>FUCKFUCKSHITKUBEFUCKINGDAMNIT
>blinded, unsure of extent of damage
>swing blindly
>hear a shotgun pump
>nope.jpg
>pull out and flee deeper into the forest

do you have any info on what was that jmusic rom YT link?
It's not available anymore.

Dimitri Chesnokov

You hate your job. Working on the shit barrels and stirring them is the stupidest thing. It doesn't even do anything to the shit except make it smell worse. You look up to the hill you'd always go to escape your superiors and see something strange. It looked like the hill was a bit taller than it once was. Then, it started moving at the top. Was it a trick of the light? Maybe, so you continue stirring the shit barrels.

Then, you see flashes of light in the distance, grabbing your attention as the top of the hill lights up. Holy shit, it's an ambush!

“IT IS OF AMBUSH!” You scream before all of the vehicles in the camp erupt into flames.

A little teaser of what's to come. I might not be able to complete an entire section today because I'm going to be going to the grand canyon tomorrow, but I'll post what i have either way. May or may not take pictures depending on how I look, since I'm not nearly as photogenic as some of the other guys here. Might just be pictures of the canyon and miscellaneous things I do on the way.

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You have my attention.

bump

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That was a good update. Here's to Funker and Rat making amends, and Sonja getting someplace safe to live.

Shit, these niggas ain't quite the amateurs we've dealt with in the past.

All I can remember is that it's from one of the hotline Miami soundtracks.

Looking forward to all of it. Canyon, story, whatever you've got.

Attached: FB-111_Formation[1].jpg (3000x2018, 2.03M)

More please.

Glad you enjoy friend, these are pretty fun to write, you got any ideas on what you like to see more of.

I'm sure this won't be as helpful as you'd like it to be, but I'd like to see more of whatever. The worldbuilding is fascinating, the combat is entertaining, and the interpersonal dynamics are enthralling. I have enjoyed the balance you've offered between the three so far, so I guess I'd like more of the same. While still advancing the plot obviously.

Attached: flamethrower that also shoots bullets.png (1783x515, 355K)

Attached: fleet of starships.jpg (1483x1166, 336K)

was unfortunately unable to finish a part of the story, so I'll just post the stuff that I have.Z

Warning sirens blared, indicating you were badly damaged, but the aircraft held. Then, when you looked down, you saw why. The inertial guidance system had shattered into fragments. There was no way you were using it to get home. Looks like it was follow the leader for you.

“Victroy 1-3, get clear of the blast zone NOW!” The B-58 calls out. “Nuclear drop in 2 minutes!”

You nod, slamming the afterburners forward after dropping the auxiliary tanks. You climbed as if your life depended on it, which it technically did.

“Hey, Victory 1-3, if you don't make it out of there, those were some pretty smooth moves. Watched you all the way up here.” Your flight lead tells you. “You did good son.”

You smile as you continue to climb, taking what would likely be the only validation you'd get for a while. You finally make it to 30000 feet and see a flash behind you, nearly blinding you as it goes off. You feel blisteringly hot, looking down at your Mach gauge to see you weren't going Mach 1 yet. You level the nose and begin accelerating, feeling the aircraft shake violently as your AOA meter goes haywire.

The aircraft finally settles down, hitting Mach 1 and beginning to outrun the shock wave again. When you look outside, you see the paint boiling off the aircraft before looking behind you. The bomb had hit about 2 miles away, if your estimate was correct. Hopefully you didn't have cancer now.

Attached: f-14 bombcat.jpg (600x391, 51K)

Jack Loch, 1st civilian armor wing

You sit in the turret of your M103, watching the Russian positions from over watch as the rest of your armored unit had moved in beside you for flank shots. The US had completely deregulated tanks and armored vehicles, labeling them all under the same category as muskets and black powder cannons. This went for automatic rifles, machine guns, artillery, and even aircraft. Everything could now be bought and owned by anyone in America, which made it much easier to put up effective resistance with all the civilian militias and VFW gate guards.

Turns out the laws were never being followed in the first place. Most, if not all, aircraft already were being armed and flown with live ordinance from private airports. The tanks had 2 guns they would use, a live and an inert version, as well as 2 versions of machine guns they would have. This went for pretty much every tank and aircraft except the ones who were new to the whole 'owning a tank' thing. Everyone knows all of you had at least one working armament for the tank, more than likely the cannon. Today turned out to be the perfect day to use them, as the nuke had drawn all aircraft in the region back and left your tanks in the perfect position to attack.

“Group 1, get ready to engage the BMPs with your 75s. Group 2, go after the T-90s with your 105s. Group 3, fire on the Armata that's in the repair bay. Load sabot and DO NOT MISS!” You tell your battalion.

“Group 1 copies, ranging BMPs.” The group 1 commander tells you. “Range 1000 yards.”

“Group 2 copies last, targeting T-90s.” The group 2 commander informs you.

“Copy group commander.” The rest of group 3 tells you. “Sabot loaded and ready to fire.”

You see the gun being traversed on the defenseless Armata tank that you all had been following for the past 10 days now. A hunter stalking his prey. The gun lines up with the T-14 and you get back down in the turret, closing the hatch.

“3-2 ready to fire.” One of the M103s tells you.

“3-3 good to go.” The other M103 says.

“3-4 on target.” The M60A2 says. “HE loaded.”

“We're ready to fire on your command, sir.” Your gunner says.

“3-1 ready to fire.” You say over the intercom. “Group 1 and 2, how are you doing?”

“We're all ready here.” The M60s and M48s tell you.

“BMPs are in our sights.” The Shermans tell you. “Ready to fire on your command.”

“Alright, on the count of 3. 1...2...3...FIRE!” You tell them.

Dimitri Chesnokov

You hate your job. Working on the shit barrels and stirring them is the stupidest thing. It doesn't even do anything to the shit except make it smell worse. You look up to the hill you'd always go to escape your superiors and see something strange. It looked like the hill was a bit taller than it once was. Then, it started moving at the top. Was it a trick of the light? Maybe, so you continue stirring the shit barrels.

Then, you see flashes of light in the distance, grabbing your attention as the top of the hill lights up. Holy shit, it's an ambush!

“IT IS OF AMBUSH!” You scream before all of the vehicles in the camp erupt into flames.

Jack Loch

The tank is filled with a massive roar as all the tanks fire at once, striking the targets and destroying them. The Armata blows its turret, the ammunition having still been inside. The T-90s are either immobilized or pop their turrets as well. Holes are torn in the thin sides of the BMPs by the high explosive ammo used by the Shermans.

“LOAD HIGH EX.” You shout, manually traversing the turret to a group of infantry.

“UP!” The loader shouts back.

“FIRE TWO ROUNDS HIGH EX!” You shout, feeling the tank jolt back as it fills with the concussive force of the cannon.

That's all for now. Will continue when I get back about a week from now. I hope the vatniks don't get upset that I destroyed their sooper stronk abrahamas killre and nuke the thread. Will upload pics of interesting stuff.

Attached: confused screaming.jpg (1024x911, 153K)

A nice little update. Good to see the Armata is carrying on the T-72's illustrious turret-chucking record.

Here’s a better version of the radio explanation
>Henning mulls it over, “If the Company does not receive any radio traffic from us then it would either mean a catastrophic break down in communications or that everyone is dead. The latter is because all the command vehicles and 6x6s are equipped with long range radios, and as long as one of these long ranges are oprational, any other vehicle with a short range. an broadcast back to battalion. However because all the ling range carrying vehicles are destroyed, the Company wil assume the worse and think most of the convoy if not all are dead.

Ya know, in hindsight, this new explanation is better than the old one. It also happens that the company is correct in this instance.

>this is what I get for not proofreading

Are these threads interchangeable with the literature threads, or just for people who enjoy writing? I assumed they were separate, but the OP makes it seem like both.

Also, Amazon will often have real good deals on used books (cause they go through local/mom and pop book shops). And you can find a lot of books on archive.org as well for free.

Feel free to recommend books for me, btw.

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I'm back, posting

>Sonja was bundled up with Liichen, she's wearing Liichen's OD button up, spare nutria cargo pants and her spare black corcorans and hugging that Bubba'd paratrooper M98 to her chest
>she's still weak and very much quiet, much preferring to communicate verbally without using words
>Liichen seems to enjoy playing mom with the teenage girl
>"Oh you poor thing, hasn't anyone combed your hair before? It's a mess sweetheart!" says Liichen as she went to grab her brush
>"..." Sonja remains silent and shakes her head
>"Hmm, well that stops here you poor thing. I'm gonna take care of you." as she combed through Sonja's hair
>Liichen runs her wooden elvish comb through Sonja's hair, taking care to not touch the left side of her head
>"Liichen? Can I call you Lii?" she asks timidly, shrinking a little away into your zeltbahn
>"OH of course sweety, you can call me whatever you want Sonja." smiles Liichen

>"Who's ready for some schokola?!" you say in a friendly voice
>"Sonja, would you like some schokola? It's REALLY GOOD! I promise!" say Liichen in a matronly tone
>Sonja just nods her head and watches you as you take out your Rippo and pocket stove
>you place down a block of fuel and light it

>Sonja's widen with fear as the Rippo lights up the fuel tablet
>Sonja screams and backpedals into the seat, recoiling in fear from the fire
>"Shit! GODS DAMN YOU SNUFF IT OUT user!!!!" Liichen yells angrily at you, with the heat of a thousand suns
>"Oh God sorry sorry!" as you quickly snuff out the stove and your lighter
>Sonja is in a fetal position on her seat, lying down on her side and sobbing, whimpering to herself, both hands covering her burned head, the Bubba'd rifle between her emaciated thighs
>"... don't hurt me, please...."
>"... Daddy where are you? Daddy I'm scared... " whimpered Sonja

Cont

Attached: fetal sonja.jpg (720x916, 449K)

Try "Forever War" by Joe Haldemann
It's an allegory for Haldemann's own experience when he served in Vietnam set in retrofuturistic America where the MC has to travel through collapsars to fight aliens and comes back to find that 2 years in country meant 10-200 years passed back on Earth. Great military sci-fi

apparetnly i'm a faggot and this is a low point in my life.
I can tell because I wrote a sonnet.
Please critique

> I track he dog to edge of lake
> with blood on fur and fear of eye
> he find my trap with foot mistake
> and now for him we come to die
> spear hauled I there with tremble breath
>too much it seemed to me
> for wolf he lay on edge with death
> as child could plain to see
> approach he wolf with hold me knife
> to to show my friend owned braverly
> yet bold to keep his blood earned life
>the jaw he snapped on throat of my
> though small it seem a dog lay low
> the threat not gone and never go

Attached: das.gif (640x426, 428K)

Cont.

>Sonja was bundled up with Liichen, she's wearing Liichen's OD button up, spare nutria cargo pants hugging that Bubba'd paratrooper M98 to her chest
>Liichen’s bandaged her blistered feet
>she's still weak and very much quiet, much preferring to communicate verbally without using words
>Liichen seems to enjoy playing mom with the teenage girl
>"Oh you poor thing, hasn't anyone combed your hair before? It's a mess sweetheart!" says Liichen as she went to grab her brush
>"..." Sonja remains silent and shakes her head
>"Hmm, well that stops here you poor thing. I'm gonna take care of you." as she combed through Sonja's hair
>Liichen runs her wooden elvish comb through Sonja's hair, taking care to not touch the left side of her head
>"Liichen? Can I call you Lii?" she asks timidly, shrinking a little away into your zeltbahn
>"OH of course sweety, you can call me whatever you want Sonja." smiles Liichen

>"Who's ready for some schokola?!" you say in a friendly voice
>"Sonja, would you like some schokola? It's REALLY GOOD! I promise!" say Liichen in a matronly tone
>Sonja just nods her head and watches you as you take out your Rippo and pocket stove
>you place down a block of fuel and light it

>Sonja's widen with fear as the Rippo lights up the fuel tablet
>Sonja screams and backpedals into the seat, recoiling in fear from the fire
>"Shit! GODS DAMN YOU SNUFF IT OUT user!!!!" Liichen yells angrily at you, with the heat of a thousand suns
>"Oh God sorry sorry!" as you quickly snuff out the stove and your lighter
>Sonja is in a fetal position on her seat, lying down on her side and sobbing, whimpering to herself, both hands covering her burned head, the Bubba'd rifle between her emaciated thighs
>"... don't hurt me, please...."
>"... Daddy where are you? Daddy I'm scared... " whimpered Sonja

Cont.

Attached: fetal sonja.jpg (720x916, 449K)

Attached: neat.jpg (584x329, 33K)

>"Hey, hey, baby it's alright, Daddy's here Sonja, I'm sorry if I scared you. I should've known" you instinctively say, cupping her head over your shoulder
>Liichen joins in and pets her hair, whispering to her words to calm her
>"Is there something you want to tell us sweety? Y... you don't have to if it hurts too much. Don't worry, we won't judge." Liichen says
>Sonja sniffs, wiping tears away from her sunken in blue eyes, hugging the rifle and zeltbahn tighter.
>She begins talking

Cont.

Cont.

9 years ago
>"Daddy? What happened to mommy?" you ask your father this question
>he stops washing the dishes, and you simply stare at his dark blue eyes
>he looks down on you, squats down to your level and says, "Sonja, mommy's... she passed away to the other side sweetheart."
>"Will we pass away to the other side one day Daddy?" you ask inquisitively
>your father looks taken aback, and then resoundingly says, "... Yes. We'll go someday. When we do you'll see mommy again... "
>he looks like he's trying to hold back tears, "... I'll see you on the other side Carla."
>he snaps out of his thoughts, "Now come on Sunny, these dishes aren't gonna wash and dry themselves." resuming his cheerful attitude

>your father was a local hunter and your mother was a full time mother in the small town of Hertenpont
>Dad taught you to shoot and said, "A lady should always have a little surprise for any rowdy boys." Your mother didn't approve of him teaching a child how to use a gun, but she got over it
>when the Merge happened the country was in chaos, and Hertenpont was under constant attack from goblins gangs that had been teleported over by the Merge
>smaller towns and villages had already been taken over by orc and goblin rape parties
>Hertenpont was spared for some reason, even though the town only had 52 people in it, and most had fled to the cities
>almost as if the goblins and orcs had been avoiding Hertenpont
>Eventually small rape parties would be launched against Hertenpont's defenses, only to be repelled by accurate rifle fire
>your father determined that the orcs and gobbies would eventually overcome their fears and launch a full scale invasion on the remaining town militia

Cont.

Attached: Deer Point.jpg (550x343, 59K)

Are we ever gonna get more updates from Barrett-senpai?
I'm getting cold and hungry. I've been waiting for a out 2 years now

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Cont.

>your mother disappeared shortly after, she went into the woods one night without any weapons
>there were a lot of dead deer in the woods that following week
>Dad looked kinda weird the next, like he'd seen a ghost
>Daddy told you that mommy had gone on a long hunting trip, and that she won't be back for a long time
>then you asked him again he said that she'd "Gone to the other side."

2 years ago
>Dad taught you to shoot and said, "A lady should always have a little surprise for any rowdy boys."
>he even taught you the basics of tracking and deer mating calls while you were out with him on his hunts
>but this time he told you to stay in your room and to not look out "no matter what you hear" when Hertenpont was under attack
>there was roaring, sporadic gunfire, followed by screams of dying men and louder roaring
>by the time the gunfire stopped it was just random roars, it was around midnight and that's when you heard banging at the front door
>"OPEN UP!!! SONJA IT'S DADDY!!!"

>your dad had you in a bridal carry, his modified M98 slung over his back
>he had blood and cut marks all over his body, a bloody rag over his right eye
>you didn't even have time to put on any shoes, just a simple white sundress
>he was carrying you into the deepwoods, running away from something
>a loud inhuman roar is heard behind you, gaining in volume
>"DON'T LOOK BACK SWEET HEART! WE'RE GONNA BE FINE, WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT ALRIGHT! I PROMISE!" he yells, almost panicking
>"R I I I C C C H H H A A A R R R D D D!!!!!!" croaks the disjointed voice behind you
>you close your eyes and hope that Dad's fast enough

Cont.

>suddenly you feel as if your world is falling down
>Dad tripped over a rock and the both of you fall over
>he breaks your fall, protecting you with his muscular arms
>he cries out in pain as he clutches his ankle, looks like it's been sprained
>you try to help him get up, but everytime he puts weight down on it he yells in pain
>the roars are getting louder now, getting closer
>your dad looks over his shoulder, looks at you, and unslings his M98, racking the bolt and unslinging an OD cloth bandolier of stripper clips

>he hands them to you, you look puzzled at first, but even as a 15 year old girl you know what's about to happen
>you beg and plead with your father to keep going, but he stops you
>"Listen to me sweety. I can't go very fast and we're losing time here. Your... that thing... is going to come and kill us if you don't go now!"
>"But I can't just leave you Daddy! Don't leave me like mommy did!" you pleaded
>"Sunshine. Listen to Daddy. This is life, we can't all get into life and expect everyone to get along and expect everything to be alright sweety. Take my rifle, it's your's now. Treat her with respect and care and she'll never fail you. Remember, I will always be with you sweetheart, since the day you were and I first held you in my arms, you'll always be my little Sunshine." he says grimacing a smile
>"NOW GO!!!" he pushes you away and pulls out a large caliber revolver and bowie knife from his belt
>he stands his ground
>you turn around and run as fast as your bare feet could carry you
>you hear a loud roar as loud gunshots ring out through the woods
>you hear you father roaring and yelling inhumanly in time with the monstrous roar
>eventually you hear him scream in pain, before it was quickly silenced
>you just kept running deeper and deeper into the dark woods, until you hit your head on something hard, and everything goes dark

Cont.

Attached: BETTER RUN THROUGH THE JUNGLE.jpg (1280x720, 72K)

Cont.

>you wake up in a dark, damp, place. You think it's your house, because it smell familiar, but something smells a bit off
>something's dying
>you're in your house's kitchen, because you recognize the outline of the grill of the wood stove
>somebody lit it
>your father's rifle is nowhere to be seen
>a creak in the floor boards frightens you
>you turn to see the silhouette of a tall, slender woman
>the woman steps into the fire's light, wearing a simple long sleeve shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and an old pair of faded-black low cut lace up canvas sneakers
>she has a slender build, around 5'8 or so, looks to be in her mid 30s, her hands are clasped together in anxiety
>her hair is... oh
>it's blonde like yours
>"Sonja, it's been a long time since we've last met." says the woman
>no
>no, but Dad said...
>"Momma's home sweetheart." says the woman with warm smile
>her eyes look bloodshot, like she's been awake for 7 years
>but most telling of all is her eye color
>they're red, like blood red
>you backpedal away from her, wait, why are you naked?

Cont.

Cont.

>"Look at how much you've grown sweetheart, you're almost a grown woman now." the woman says warmly, slowly approaching you
>"Get away from me!" you yell
>she stops in her tracks, tears welling up in her eyes, "How could you say that? Everything I did, I did it for you!" she's starting to get angry now
>"Where's Dad? What did you do to Daddy?!" you're asking desperately for an answer to a question you already knew the answer to.
>"That prick Richard, he set you up like this didn't he! That ungrateful bastard, I gave up my humanity to save you and this town, and this is the thanks I get! My own daughter turned against me!" her eyes were starting to glow
>"No! You're not my mom! Mommy died a long time ago, when she left us!"
>"FUCK YOU!!! YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!!!" she yells at you, so loudly it hurts your ears
>the woman that was once your mother grabbed you by your shoulder length blonde hair towards the wood stove
>she presses the left side of your head into the griddle
>the smell of burnt hair and searing meat fills your nostrils
>the pain was unbearable, so you screamed in agony as your mother kept you on the wood stove for what seemed like an eternity
>she immediately pulled you away from the stove, letting you go and staring at her pale hands in disbelieve
>"Oh God, wh... what have I done?!" she collapses to her knees and starts apologizing to you, crying and sobbing uncontrollably
>"What have I done?! What kind of mother am I?" as she applies cold water and bandages your burnt face and head
>you were barely lucid enough to make out what happened

Cont.

Attached: mom.jpg (707x1024, 68K)

Cont.

>she explained that she was a witch before the Merge
>after the Merge she realized she could protect the town and you if she sacrificed her humanity to the forest spirit
>she went into the woods and ate her own flesh in a ritual summoning of the wendigo spirit
>the goblins and orcs saw her as too dangerous so they stayed away from Hertenpont
>your father couldn't bear to see his wife like this, so he organized a hunting party to kill her
>that's what caused her to go ballistic on the town militia
>she just wanted to see her daughter

>for the next two years you have been trapped in your old house in Hertenpont
>without any maintenance, the once sleepy town of Hertenpont fell into disrepair, roofs collapsed from heavy rain fall and general decay
>weeds began to overgrow the once paved streets
>your own house began to grow mold and decay
>you would obediently obey your mother, or face the consequences of being beaten
>she would always regret it and apologize profusely
>but then she'd relapse if she even suspects you of trying to escape
>she would always go on hunts and bring back deer and other assorted woodland creatures
>eventually she even brought back the butchered bodies of a small elven/dwarve caravan
>that was the tipping point for you as you plotted to escape from the house once she went out to hunt
>you find your father's rifle in the old rifle rack, you don't know why she didn't destroy it, maybe she still loves him
>maybe he really is watching over you

>you shoot at the deerbeast, hitting it center of mass as the 8.2mm Krauser round rips through its rotten innards and throws a black mist 10 feet back
>shit, only one round left.
>you see her chasing behind her beasts, still in her human form, though she's struggling to hold the wendigo in check

Cont.

Cont.

>"SwEADt... ughhh.... I can't control it, you're making me angry!!!" she yells
>"Donnnnn't mAAke me punish you!!!" she's sweating bullets now, her eyes glowing red in the dark
>you take aim on her head and fire
>you missed
>the rain was making it hard to see your target
>now she's really angry
>"DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU, YOU LITTLE BRAT!!!!"
>her slender frame starts to bulge out with muscle, her skin growing fur and becoming more sallow
>her once slender arms begin to bulge with new muscle, ripping the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt with her biceps
>her jeans start ripping as her thighs and calves start filling out with muscle, tearing them apart at the seams
>her feet start growing in her sneakers, shifting bone and growing razor sharp nails that tear through the white rubber toe caps.
>the laces start popping apart as the seams rip open revealing her monstrous feet
>bone is cracked and regrown as she gains height
>your mother has now become a 9 foot wendigo, out for your blood

>you run, barefoot yet again, but this time you hid in a rotting tree stump.
>she passes through the area with her pets, stalking around the black woods with her red glowing eyes
>the stars being your only source of light
>you see a building up ahead
>she roars in the distance
>you run into it, locking the door behind you
>you vault over the cashier's counter and drop your rifle
>but you can HEAR her running footsteps
>so you ran into the back room, looking for places to hide
>you eventually discover the trapdoor and hide in there
>for two months you haven't ventured outside of the walk in freezer, too afraid to find her standing right outside waiting for you
>you were running out of potable canned food, a lot of this stuff was long gone anyway

Cont.

Attached: one month no food but sedentary.jpg (480x630, 222K)

Cont.

>you woke up to a sudden loud banging noise upstairs
>muffled machine noises and talking
>you turn off the storm lantern you found in the backroom
>out of fright you accidentally kicked over your last canned meal
>they go quiet upstairs
>they're coming over to the freezer
>you cup your hands over your mouth, hiding yourself in the corner of the crawl space
>the door opens revealing a bright yellow light shining down, and the head of a man with a handgun

Present day
>Sonja was quiet again. Liichen was comforting her
>"So that thing I fought back there, that... wendigo... was your mother?" you asked
>she solemnly nods her head in confirmation, tears streaming down her fair face
>"So that thing really is going to keep coming after us if you're with us." you say monotonously
>Sonja speaks, "I'll do it."
>you and Liichen do a double take, "What?"
>"I'll take her out. She's suffering, she needs to be put down." says Sonja in a slightly more confident voice this time
>you look at each other, knowing what must be done
>"Are you sure Sonja? Can you handle it?"
>she nods, "I know how to shoot, but I'm a bit rusty." she says timidly, hugging her father's budda'd M98 tightly
>she looks at you with her wet blue eyes, "May I have the hot schokola now?" she asks shyly
>"Oh? Sure sweetheart, but.. I'll have to light the fire." you say
>"I... It's alright, you can light it, I trust you..."
>"... Daddy..." she responds, her smile melts your heart
>"Alright then, who wants some?" you ask with an equally warm smile on your face
>you must protect that smile at any cost
>she's in good hands Richard, may the Kube guide you to eternal fields of game

Night's Fury 3
>stop running after a while
>need to gather my thoughts
>pain making it hard to think
>deep, deep pain cutting to the bone
>visible damage doesn't look bad though
>missing chunks from head and chest
>need to patch parka again
>can't go back for material till this is settled
>vision slowly coming back
>I can work with this
>turn back towards their camp
------------------------------
"Why did it attack?" one of the escorts asked. The smell of blood faded away and animal sounds were returning, but still the hunters looked around cautiously.

"We are unmarked, armed and we've been using witch magic in it's territory," their leader answered, her voice harsh, "Stay alert, it will be back."

"It doesn't like magic?" the other hunter asked, more curious than anything.

"It doesn't like witches," the Hunter-Witch Sylvia replied. She loaded another ashwood shell into her shotgun, "We insulted it by using the tracking spell. I probably just pissed it off with old Bess. Let's hope it is still reasonable..."
----------------------------
>they're ready for me
>probably the silence and that smell warned em
>3v1, not optimal
>some solace that I can still sneak around them
>can't just shoot em
>didn't get a chance to test their coats, not sure if these are bulletproofed too
>now's a good time to try
>getting close to attack when staff-guy calls out "We just want to talk, beast."
>sounds like a girl, make a mental note
>bull rush right side hunter
>knocks hunter into staff-girl
>left hunter tries to stab me
>rifle parries spear, followed by a headbutt
>right hunter back on feet and tries to rush me
>jab hunter in the face with rifle to stop him
>follow up with full body kick
>right side hunter down again
>turn to face last hunter
>"We only came to talk!" last hunter stammers
>whoops
>move in for another attack
>staff-girl cuts in
>bayonet drawn in a flash
>shotgun jammed into face
>bayonet at staff-girl's throat

Night's Fury 3.1
>Mexican standoff, nice
>staff-girl says real slowly "We. Want. To. Talk."
>missing part of my mouth missing, still managed to growl "NO MARK."
>growls back "The Magister refused to part with any of his precious teeth. We had no choice."
>other hunter twitches, still unconscious
>last hunter starting to panic "You're being hunted!"
>no shit, sherlock
>staff-girl says, "The Coven of Shadows, the witches, sent assassins to bring them your head."
>"Or what's left of it," hunter mutters
>"We're here to help." staff-girl manages
>lowers shotgun, "Really."

I'm struggling to write this convoy attack sequence. Surprisingly enough I can write action/noir shit but for some reason I'm drawing blanks when it comes to trying to emulate the accuracy of proper military protocol and procedure.

Military fiction surprisingly is a weakness of mine.

one last time, is there any interest in my stories anymore?

Don't make me beg.

I already read all your pastebin entries, unless you plan on writing something new?

aside from a couple oneshots none of them is finished, I literally asked in the last thread which one(s) people wanted to see continued, only one response & even that might have been a mistake on LRRP's part

I'd be down for anything to be honest.

bump

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I’d like to see you continue on the Finnish Mosin

>incriminating yourself

Normally, I'd be okay with buying books online. But if I'm going to get something like a guide on guerrilla warfare, I'm buying that shit from a brick-and-mortar store, and I'm doing it in cash.

????

Very artistic, I guess.

Well that was sufficiently tragic. Poor Sonja, may she bring her mother peace.

>user gets new buddies

Horray, we get to LARP with buddies again! And hunt witches again!

I've got faith in you, Donnie. You've done well so far. I wish I could think of stuff to point you to, but all I can think of is visual, and I don't think that's going to help you write.

bump

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I have an idea for an update and maybe an idea for something new, I'll try to have something to post next weekend.

I'll see what I can come up with, one or two other stories will probably come first but user's life with an overbearing rifle and an adorable pistol won't be abandoned.

It's 2 AM, I'm on my 4th cup of tea in the row and listening to Irish Rock, but I managed to come up with some excuse of a dump.

hope you enjoy.

> -Clear!-
>Forward section spread out around the empty bridge and made sure there was no survivor hiding about.
>Command team followed inside, along with the remnants of Grey platoon.
>Third section was pulling the security outside the breached door.
>As Jackson made his way inside, he gazed over the mutilated husk of the Hetzer who pulled off this whole stunt.
>Somebody else has already recovered his gel processor so that his consciousness may live again in another body.
>There were no AI constructs among the stormtroopers and only a few transcendents.
>Such was the policy on board the Wildfire.
> -Alright, eggheads, get to work.-
>Coordinator wasted no time on formalities.
> -Pull anything you can get. I want communication transcripts, scan reports, captain log. Even second mate’s napkin scribbles. Everything that you can get your hands on.-
>both hackers hooked into nearest available workstations and started digging into the files, breaking anti-copying protocols on anything they could get access to.
>Some other troopers also manned the remaining posts and searched to the best of their capabilities.
>Anything that seemed to be of any interest was send to the commander’s wireless communication set, which sent it to the Green squad’s retransmitter, which in turn relayed the data to the Wildfire.
>There, all the files that have been extracted were saved on the secured and airgapped servers and meticulously scanned for potential malware.
>Only after that did the on-board cryptography section started cracking down on the details in search of anwsers.