Edinburgh Resistance

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Koda

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Introduction

  • 1944. The nazis won. In Edinburgh, Britain, there is scattered resistance, with the nazis assigned to Edinburgh struggling to remain in control. Fight, sabotage and kill wherever you can. We can't escape, they've cut off all exit points in the city. There are military camps scattered across the city, with guns and ammunition. The nazis may have won, but we Scots aren't going down without a fight.

    Rules

    • -Regular Iwaku rules apply
      -No godmoding or story-blocking other participants.
      -When you are confronted head on and found out by the Germans, unless I tell you otherwise, you have to run because in direct confrontation, they are always stronger than you. If you decide to do nothing and keep fighting, I will write a very descriptive paragraph on your character being slaughtered and removed from the RP. (This does not apply when fighting a group of maybe four clumsy soldiers. But I think you get the picture)

      Things-to-Know

      • There isn't any official resistance!!! There isn't one body that governs and commands an organisation, it is pretty much just you and the people you meet. Sometimes small groups might show up but there is never anything solid and official. Also, escaping isn't possible, if attempted, your character will die. I will be triggering events like your hideout being stormed by the army, or random rebel groups with different intentions approaching you. I will be, in a sense, guiding you and the plot along so that it never gets uninteresting.


        If you haven't already signed up, here's the OOC and signups> https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/edinburgh-resistance-ooc-and-sign-ups.86084/
 
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Catherine stepped out onto the streets of Edinburgh, looking for some flowers for a party she was having later in the evening. She entered the shop through the doors and asked for the usual. The clerk smiled and entered a back room. As soon as the clerk returned from the back room, Catherine laid the money on the counter and picked up the bouquet, walking through the doors and returning home.
 
A group of German soldiers dragged a few teenagers from their house, making them kneel in the dirty snow, lining up to execute them. the teens were terrified and begged for mercy, but all they got were kicks and jabs with the butt of a rifle. They broke down into sobs, awaiting their inevitable death, for no one could help them now...

Ted was on top of a hotel roof, and saw the teens get dragged out from the house. as the Germans lined up and pointed their rifles at the boys, he put his eye to the scope of his sniper rifle and aimed at the head of the officer in charge. He slowly squeezed the trigger... "Gotcha ya bastard" he murmured as he pulled the trigger all the way and the man's head was splattered onto the ground, brains and all. Ted pulled back the bolt, and fired at the rest of the Germans looking around for the sniper. In no time at all, the Germans were dead, and the teens stared up at the masked figure, grinned, and ran. Ted left the bodies there to send a message to the Germans. He relaxed up on the roof, hoping he wasn't needed again anytime soon...
 
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Arksta pressed herself against the grimy, concreted wall of the garage, uncomfortably nestled in between a ruined, pushed aside car. The garage wasn't small, able to fit at least 4 cars inside, with extra driving space. She shivered as the cold wind blew against her. As she heard talking, she slowed her breathing and focused. A group of four soldiers strode into the garage, peering around the corners. A helmet covered their heads, and each held a musket, tipped with a bayonet.
"Rupert, search the upper levels. Jörg, you search around the basement here, while me and Bruno will look around the first floor," A tall man, thick eyebrows and a deep voice commanded.
"Yes sir!" The other three all replied quickly.
"Remember, if you see a Scot..." The man's eyes narrowed. "Kill them." It was only then when Arksta glimpsed a red band wrapping around their upper arm. Displaying a turned swasitka symbol. She swore under her breath and with great difficulty suppressed a flash of rage. Slowly, she dragged the knife from its sheath.
 
Thomas lounged in a padded, comfortable chair, a short glass half filled with scotch on the rocks in one hand. In his other hand, a revolver. It had one bullet in the chamber, reserved for the man in front of him. "It's not me boss! The krauts have been pullin' folks outa' their homes, there's barely anybody to pull money from!" He begged trying desperately to plead his case, plead for his life. Thomas understood, the krauts had been a problem, profits were down because of them. The damn Nazis had been eating and drinking like mad, all without paying, they'd demanded enterance to clubs, and they never tipped. Thomas put the gun away. He stood up and stalked over to the man, "Alright bucko, you've made your case clear." Thomas slapped him once across the face with the back his hand hard enough to draw blood. "Still, don't you mis quota again, understand?" Thomas new his boys weren't enough to fight off the krauts, but maybe if he could rally the families... No, they'd need evidence it could be done first. He'd have to clear his turf first, then use that as evidence that the Nazi war machine could be stopped.
 
Ted, after adjusting his face mask, packed up his gear and started climbing down the ladder at the side of the hotel. He put his sniper rifle in his back holster and took out a high quality gestapo mauser he looted from an officer. He never bothered blending in anymore, now that nobody ever left the house except to shop. He was renowned among Germans as a killer, highly dangerous. He walked along the street, and suddenly had an idea. The renowned mob boss, only known as Tom, had a house only a few meters away. He needed manpower, and Tom was the only person that had it. Ted knocked on the door, hoping that Tom himself was at this safehouse.
 
Catherine walked into the streets, and entered the cafe that she worked in. She was met by a Nazi who ordered some decaf coffee. Using her excellent charisma, she started off a conversation with the soldier.
"Are you attending the party at my house tonight?" Catherine asked the soldier as she made his coffee. He replied that he was and who he arrested that day. She nodded and handed him his coffee just as he asked. He handed her the money and walked out the door. Catherine managed to sneak some of the Nazi's private files when he had his back turned. Feeling accomplished, Catherine went home, gingerly hiding the files in her bag.
 
"Ay boss!" One of the thugs in his base called out. "There's a guy at the door!" The thug slid open a small metal window in the door, "State your business, or get lost." The thug stated, peering out through the window. The thug waited for an answer, his eye peering out the small hole, searching the mans face for answers. Thomas took a sip of his scotch, the ice cubes clinking softly in his cup. It wasn't often he had guests here outside the gang. The mob boss wondered who it could be.
 
Ted smiled behind his face mask. Tom would know who he was, the nazis called him the 'Ghost' and Tom hears all gossip. "Tell Tom that the Ghost needs his help. He called to the man behind the door. He holstered his pistol, realising that it might cause a bit of unneeded tension. He waited patiently for the thug to let him in. @Eon
 
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Ozaren was adamant this was the way to deal with the Nazi threat.
He scrutinised every page of the Mein Kampf. Adolf Hitler's ideals and every aspect of his belief down on paper.
It was all well and good to run out on the streets and fully oppose the Nazis, like that 'Ghost' chap, but people needed to acknowledge the more subtle side to rebellion.
Ozaren wasn't looking for anything particular in the Mein Kampf, and what he was searching for would be indeed very subtle. Something that Hitler had done that violated his own book. Or maybe even more minuscule of a detail, like a discrepancy between two phrases. Whatever it was, he could validate the actions of the rebels. The Nazi threat would crumble with Adolf Hitler left on the rubble, curious as to what had just happened.
He scribbled concise notes, perspiration accumulating in bead-esque globules on his forehead.
At some point, he would find something.
 
Catherine was in her study room when one of her "Scouts" entered. She was a rather tall fellow, a brunet wearing a beige school outfit. She apologized for her intrusion. "It's alright," Catherine said, "I have an assignment for you, deliver these papers to the closest scouts, and take that school bag with you. You'll need it to conceal the papers." The girl accepted the papers and hid them in a small pocket. "I have an important update for the scouts." She said. "Scout Jamison, what could it possibly be?" Catherine asked. She knew that the 16 year old was spying on some SS men on her way home, and tricked them into revealing top secret information. She never disclosed her real name, as stated in the Resistance Creed, so she used the identity of Sarah Jamison, A teenager who had a reputation for being an athelete, and being suspended for fighting at her old school. "Those Nazis killed three people today." she said. "What were they charged with?" Catherine asked as she shuffled some papers around. "Apparently, a few street boys were degrading the SA and SS, and I guess somebody overheard and informed on them." Catherine looked and shock and replied that the boys should be avenged. "Thank you for your time." Catherine replied. The scout nodded and headed out the door with the papers.
 
8 February, 1944.
10:41 AM
Outside of Edinburgh, Scotland




Hakeem and his comrades crouched on either side of the road that led up into the hills that were so characteristic of Scotland.
The rain that had plagued them for hours was still pouring down, drenching the men.
I'm getting too old for this shit. I should just let the younger men do it. Then Hakeem shrugged. Hell, what else am I going to do? I can't leave Britain, because the Germans watch the channel and search all ships and such. And I can't go back to civilian life, I'm a black man, they'd send me to a camp, especially if they learned I'm a veteran and a fighter.
Hakeem shook his head, chastising himself for letting his mind wander. He wiped the lenses of his binoculars, which were very good, having been taken off of the corpse of a German officer. He raised them to his eyes, and peering through the rain, he spotted the convoy he and his group had been waiting for.
He let out a low whistle, and received one back. Almost all of Hakeem's men were veterans, with some from the Great War, like him, and most of them
men who had fought in this war, and had come back home to defend against the Germans, or had been wounded when the invasion of the UK began.
Hakeem look over his men with an approving eye. They were Scottish, all of them, native to Edinburgh or the surrounding area.
Armed with Lee Enfield rifles, as well as 2 Tommy guns, and Bren gun, they were ready to shoot up the convoy. If they succeeded, they would acquire more weapons and ammunition, and could pose more of a fight.
Hakeem picked up his rifle and crouched down, ready to fire. The road was narrow, so only one vehicle could pass at a time. On his mark, a grenade was thrown that blew up the first truck in the convoy, and the Bren sprayed fire at the last car, so that the Germans were trapped. Firing as fast as they could, Hakeem and his men poured fire into the vehicles and the men inside of them. When the ambush finally stopped, there were bodies strewn everywhere, and the cars and trucks were riddled with holes.
Cautiously rising from their positions, the band of freedom fighters salvaged what they could from the wreckage, then torched the rest. They packed up, and quickly made their way into the hills to their hideout, to plan their next move.
 
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