Ordinis Sancti Percute

Captain Winters, Hotspur 2


Winters jerk of force from the impact was heavy, fear somewhat residing in him. He quickly slammed the safety release, just as he was taught to do so with the parachutes. Immediately standing up, he raised the helmet up to see correctly, picking up the Garand which laid aslew in the front of the glider, when it slid off his hands. He regained his composture, pulling the slide of the gun back, inserting the en bloc clip before going back toward Calvin, helping him off the seat and any others. Winters heard the Colonels orders, turning to her as he listened closely. Julia's orders were clear to the minute, as he gave a quick hand salute before patting Calvins back, unstrapping the chinstrap at the same time. "Let's go Calvin. On me." He whispered, running toward the top of the sand dune before laying on his belly a few feet up. Winters looked at the pyramid and the Sphinx, Garand laying next to him as he looked back at Calvin, responding to his comment on the drink "Alright then. I'll be sure to get you one." He continued looking down, the night giving them cover, as does his camoflauge. "Hey, Calvin... Why'd ya' look at me in the glider like that? All angered and such?"
 
A Kani, Hotspur 1 (or what is left of it)

"Reporting malfunction with vehicle", Kani spoke as the plane started to go downwards.
Nobody probably heard her with the sudden sound of the wind distorting any other noise as the plane went down.

Kani was thrown right onto Carl(pending), whom vanished from her awareness right in the moment she saw a ball getting sucked out of the plane. Onbly then she notied that the roof was missing and as she was not holding onto anything she was thrown out of the plane into the sand as her awareness faded for a moment.


In the distance she could see the people of this dimension getting back onto their feet, one of them pointed a gun at another one of them.
She wondered weither or not she should engage upon this traitor, pointing a gun at a fellow comrade is considered to be a crime punishable with endless torture afterall... or at least that is all she knew that is.
She automatically got off the ground by the instinct that her training has given her, picking up her weapon, quickly approaching the group with her rifle pointed at bill's corpse and pulling the trigger as a bullet equaling the strength of the sun blinded everybody looking at it. Her goal was to burn Bill's corpse to ensure that it could not have been revived.

In the process she of course alerted the Nazi's, how could they oversee something that could equal a brief sun in the distance? Of course they would have to greet it, gree it with a barrage of artillery and mortar fire, probably killing everybody in the process.
She automatically got off the ground by the instinct that her training has given her, picking up her weapon, slowly approaching the group with the her rifle pointed at the man pointing his weapon at their fellow comrade. "Requesting permission to terminate traitorous threat." Her head turned to look at Bill, expecting an answer. A throught crossed her mind and after a brief moment of silence she added. "Kani propositions to burn the corpse of casualty to prevent their deployment agains allied force." Now her head turned back to look at the man pointing his gun at their fellow comrade in arms.


(Note for record, the crash left only a minor scratch on her armor and I just dont feel it would be worth mentioning other than as a note)
 
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Hotspur 2- Lindsay Okeke​

Vomit. It was the only word seared in Lindsay's mind after the craft came to a horrid landing. He hated heights, hated flying, hated landing, he hated everything to do with being out of control. It was unlike any ground or water. Flying was complete submission to the intangible; be that science or magic. As far as he was concerned, humans were not meant to fly. And he was very human.

Lindsay's body lurched into a dry heave. He managed to withhold his stomach's contents but a viscus string of saliva awkwardly found its way to the ground. With a quick wipe of the sleeve he was over his episode of vulnerability. Such things happened to even the best operators, what separated the bottom from the top was how well they pushed past it. After a quick tally check of gear and limbs, Lindsay lurched himself and his pack up and out of the seat. The glider was hazy like an old film or cigar parlor. The dust from impact hung about the glider cockpit eerily. He watched as Winters rummaged for his loose weapon that had seemingly not been strapped to his person during the impact. It left Lindsay an uneasy feeling toward the supposed paratrooper. His salute to Julia was even more disturbing. At the forward edge of the battle area no such saluting was ever appropriate. It was a bad start to a hairy operation.

As Lindsay squeezed awkwardly through chairs and rustling bodies he passed Calvin giving quite the monologue to his fellow operator. Without a word Lindsay drew up a quick finger to his lips in a "hush" like gesture. Now was not the time for unnecessary talking. Their current position was as vulnerable as it could get. Hostiles in the area would have likely heard the crash and be sending patrols to investigate. As those patrols did so, they would have a reasonable amount of doubt as to its cause. Maybe it was a fellow patrol, perhaps a local, maybe even a just a natural occurrence. For now those patrols would hesitate to jump to conclusions for fear of getting smoked by their sergeants. No one wanted to be the idiot who shot someone's camel that spooked them. That second's hesitation would be the team's lifeline. However, if they continued to chatter in loud English they would wipe any doubt from said patrols. Jerries would crest these dunes with triggers half squeezed and make this crash site a grave yard. Voices carried across deserts and in strange ways. It would be best if they could use that to their advantage and not their handicap.

He continued his awkward saunter through the glider, weapon gripped firmly on his chest to avoid hitting other comrades disembarking. "Okeke, up and clean. " He said crisply to Julia as he passed her. Without waiting for confirmation, Lindsay leaped out of the glider and threw down into a defensive position within earshot of the element. As he drew down into a prone position he could feel coarse sand creep down the front of his blouse and sleeves. Already it clung to him like silt as it soaked up the light sweat covering his body. As he scanned the rear of the team's position from behind the bipod of his Bren he was constantly alerted to the irritating dust that filled his ears, hair and jawline. He hated sand.
 
Bill Fullerton.​

Bill's expression was almost one of rage. He turned to Kani. "Denied. On both counts." He hissed, shouting wouldn't help them now. "We don't need you lighting a flare for any heavy artillery the damned Jerries have, whether it's some Howitzers or just Mortars, we're particularly vulnerable right now." He turned to Helsing, "Put that away, you and Kani take point, we head for Hotspur 2, that way. Quick and quiet." He considered the situation.

"Dutch, you've got the rearguard with me, everyone else, let's hoof it before some sonsofbitches come looking." Bill said.





Over at Hotspur 2​

Those sent to check out the area could see little at this distance, the Sphinx was heavily lit, but only it's head and shoulders were visible over the dunes, however, that backlight served to highlight it when a half dozen figures crested one of the dunes, Alcina spotted them first through her familiar, but she didn't recognise what Lindsay and Calvin did, the silhouette of MP40 in most of their hands, though two carried the distinctive profile of a long rifle the soldiers could reasonably guess were Gewehr 24(t)s.
 
Dutch - Hotspur 1 ​
Dutch grumbled something about fucking idiots and their special swordsman's tricks, any jackass with a machine gun at some range could fuck them up. When the big armored thing came out of the craft and offered to kill Helsing Dutch simply sighed. Upon receiving orders from Fullerton Dutch moved to his side ready to take up the rearguard when everyone got moving again.

"Roger that sir," Dutch said, he lowered his voice and continued speaking, "Quite allot of unpredictable factors for us, heading into that pyramid with this bunch'o'pecker heads is gonna be a difficult task. Even more so takin' down some necromancer who's likely got an army of Egypt's Undead to throw at us. I'm not fancyin our chances of success on this one."​
 
Hotspur 1


Zach just watched they're exchanges and listened to the CO. He wanted no part in their argument. For an "elite unit" they're not very...nice to eachother. He thought. He retrieved a Thompson from the almost unrecognizable wreckage of the glider. After doing so, he turned to Bill. "Sir, what is plan B? If the krauts raise hell we'll need a fast fuckin' way out of here." Zach was admittedly a little scared of the fact that they could face an undead army. He had heard they were tough to kill, and a submachine gun wasn't going to do much. Perhaps he could break off with someone and scout the enemies position? They were bound to have some kind of aircraft.
 
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Hotspur 1 - Han Van Helsing​

Van Helsing raises his brows at the blatant disrespect at not only the dead but towards a man who had not done or said any words towards the vampire at all, "I see how the rotters treat those who treat them well, then." He nods to Bill as he receives his orders, holstering his pistol beneath his coat and going to the front of the line, stumbling in the stand as he struggles to walk in it with his flat soled boots as he sinks, the heat of the day quickly dropping as the chill of the night quickly takes hold. He stops and looks back to Bill, his duster catching. He raises a finger, "I am sorry to halt our merry train, William, but do I have the permission to draw a more silent weapon just in case I run into Moffen, or is the strategy of mine being to look my prettiest when they shoot me dead?"

"Feel free Helsing, but keep something with some kick close just in case, I've heard any undead the krauts summon will be pretty hard to put down." Bill said, "Good idea Helsing, I like a man with initiative. I like a woman without clothing more, but we can't have everything unless Miss Ituha is going to oblige me." He chuckled before he seriousd once more. "Let's get this done people."

Van Helsing draws his hand crossbow and nods his head. Having looked away as he steps, he almost loses his footing that almost takes him stumbling. "Maybe we'll see if I roll well." With that, he continues to on his way towards the believed Crashsite of Hotspur 2, alert for any signs of enemy movement or anything of intrigue.
 
Hotspur 1: Kazumasa​

From the deceased, Kazu pulled a Thompson, which he slung over his left shoulder for the time being; unbelted Carl to remove the magazine carrier, with its five magazines; finally appropriating Carl's two grenades, which he put into the pouch for his mask, after he removed his heirloom, and slid it into the less secure, but a more accessible sleeve sewn into the inside of his jacket. Ituha approached as he worked, and he nodded at her explanation for the breeze, "The intention is appreciated, just...winds inside a flying tin can? Hundred percent of the time, I do think they're ill omens, if you follow my logic." It was as he was speaking though, he realized that the bruises, and the joint aches that resulted from the crash landing, faded into nothing. Not even the dull restriction of medication, but gone, removed. Healed. "Thank you very much Ms. Ituha." He paused as he looked up to her, giving her a somewhat grim smile from the task at hand, "If I knew much more about the mask, I'd gladly share the information. However, we are lucky to have you with us." As she turned and left, he returned to collecting gear.

When he had what he could, he climbed out of the wreckage, and slotted into the process of survivors the landing, heading to Hotspur 2's location to regroup, and devise their plans. He knew it was likely that none of the men, nor woman would need the spare Thompson, but the magazines and grenades would always be useful.​
 
Hotspur 1, Landing Zone - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha watched as multiple weapons were pulled by people against one another, and without hesitation she recoiled a couple feet from the group, ready to start fleeing if they broke out into violence: There was no point in fighting a senseless conflict. Still, Bill ordered them to stand down, and with a sigh of relief she shakes her head: So much violence, so much hatred, and it was without rhyme or reason. There was an obvious discomfort in her eyes, and tension ran through shoulders. Then Bill made the comment about her stripping down for him, and she simply turned away from them silently and kept several feet of distance between herself and Bill. She was not welcome, and he was making that clear.

Still, she didn't hate them, and for those that could see her face, they would only see a somewhat disconnected expression. She was an outcast among them and was internally struggling with that. She clasps her hands together, and starts rubbing her left wrist with her right hand's thumb, trying to calm her nerves: Being an outcast in a military operation seemed quite unhealthy...

Hotspur 2, Landing Zone - Calvin D. Walter​

Calvin spotted the incoming group of Nazis cresting the Dune opposite to themselves: That put them less than 300 feet away and closing. He grabs Alcina's cat and drags it back a couple feet with himself to ensure it wouldn't be spotted, and then rolled onto his back and motioned for Julia to come up to the hill. He spoke in a hushed tone, ensuring it would carry just far enough for Julia to overhear. Thankfully, the sand dune he was laying on would prevent the sound of his voice from traveling towards the Nazis. "Two with rifles, four with submachine guns, cresting the opposing hill." He then motions for ambush positions on the sand dune he was laying on: There was no escaping the Nazis silently at this point in his mind. They had to be taken out. He pulls a grenade off his waist and grins: He had a plan in mind.

Still, there was one last factor to take care of as he glanced at Winters. The man still wanted an answer to his question, likely. So with a sigh, Calvin responds quietly. "Disappointed, not angry. She's a civi in a war zone, you know how they get." He motions over the hill. "When the shit starts, take out their CO if you can find him. If not, whoever reaches for a radio..." They might not be able to stop the Nazis from figuring out that trouble is coming, but they could at least stop them from finding out the specifics.
 
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The landing of the peculiar expedition was amply violent. Perhaps a bit too much for Elizabeth's accustomed comfort. She had been properly strapped into her chair, but the vibrations of the impact and tumbling across the dunes, and the sounds of the wings being torn asunder did not bode well with the lady. It was not as damaging as it was uncomfortable, but Elizabeth did feel herself just a tad dizzy upon trying to unstrap herself and walk about. "Hunky-dory over here," the dark haired woman called when Julia inquired the team's state of being after the crash, but her question seemed much more rhetorical than sincere considering she climbed out of the wreckage right away.

Frank was lending Elizabeth a helping hand just as Walters unleashed his speech upon Alcina. Elizabeth's eyes momentarily achieved contact with that of Walter's and Alcina's during the charade, but she did not speak. Instead, she focused on allowing Frank to help her outside of the now horrid remnants of the glider, which was a delight. Elizabeth searched about her bag for her mirror and checked on her appearance. A seemingly superfluous act to bystanders, but to her it served a multitude of purposes. This time around it was most likely a way of relieving stress.

Seeing Walters and Winters take off and scale the nearby dune filled Elizabeth with comfort. They were two battle-hardened soldiers who obviously knew what they were doing, moving fluently and efficiently, and that could only be a positive thing. Similarly, the exotic Okeke appeared to be a very devoted soldier willing to throw himself about in the sand. Elizabeth could only admire such passion while she herself stood on her feet, far away from burrowing her body into the sand. Without much knowledge on the matter of defensive positions, she spoke. "Mr. Okeke, I'm quite sure you don't need to do that. There is nobody here," Elizabeth said and casually looked around the empty desert. "They are all over there somewhere," she continued and whiffed at the dune from which Walters and Winters scouted the area.

However, Elizabeth noticed Walter's indication of something that might happen, which led her to interrupt her own speech with the machine gunner. "On a second thought," she said and tipped across the sand and fell on her knees behind Okeke. "Point your gun over there. Shoot them before they get here," Elizabeth mumbled frantically.
 
Seeker Yggdri – Outside the Wreckage of Hotspur 2

[ * ]
​
The crash had been…unexpected by the young Irish druid. She had managed to repress any urge to scream, but there was a clear terror in the way she had gripped the seat and nearly ripped open her own knuckles through how tightly she clenched her fists. A certain moment after they landed, the druid was silent: counting in her head to see if she was, in fact, in any unreal amounts of pain.

She was surprised to find that, despite the ferocity of the crash and the all-around gut-wrenching way the crash had ended, Yggdri was alright. She had even managed to gleam a twinkle of pleasure from the way that her body felt after the crash: Coursing with adrenaline and riding on the high of a near-death escape. She had a rather out-of-place smirk on her face as she dusted herself off, letting Sil drop from her lap and land on the sandy Egyptian ground. It was Alcina who addressed her first, talking about her 'bébé' with some pride. Yggdri couldn't help but smile at the pride the witch took in her familiar, and Yggdri took a moment to stroke Sil behind the ears. "If it is okay with you, I would like to talk with bébé. He seems fond of you, and I'd love to have a chance to make friends with him." Yggdri was feeling chipper after the crash: She found Alcina oddly comforting to talk to. "…Obviously, you as well. I'd want to talk with you as well: perhaps even more so!" She giggled, trying to hide the little glimmer of embarrassment at nearly forgetting to extend the proverbial hand of friendship to the human, as well as the beast.

When the Russian woman talked about the "I'll be honest; I think I'd prefer to walk next time. That Autumn Bill man who drove us in his metal ground-beast would also be an acceptable alternative.

There was a degree of tension around the other members of the crew, as the witch's familiar and the two soldiers began to scout the nearby dunes. Yggdri was curious as to what the others were seeing, but she had no inclination to send herself or Sil into harm's way just yet. Instead, she sat down and put a hand on the sand, letting her fingers twirl through the vast grains of eroded rock and start to play with it: creating a tiny little sand storm in the wake of her twirling finger. It was no bigger than a bottle, but it spun around at the same speed as her twirling hand, and she took great delight in manipulating its shape and structure to her whim.

Turning away from the micro-storm, Yggdri looked at Calvin, seeing him holding a small, strange sphere in his hand. She remembered the members of the Ordinis-Sancti-Percute explain to her what the device was: a small exploding sphere that sent out little shards after the initial detonation. For some reason, the instructor had insisted on calling it a 'Pineapple.'

Suddenly, a small idea formed in Yggdri's head. It was a strange little thought, but she wanted to test it somewhat. She went over to the wreckage of the glider, and grabbed a shard of broken monster, before taking a moment to focus her magic into the sand and trying to surround the shard in sand, before launching it over the ground by causing the sand to ripple, like a wave. The hunk of junk slid across the bottom of the dune from one side to another, and Yggdri clapped at her own clever-ness. She quickly scotched across the floor on her knees, sliding up next to Calvin but keeping as low as possible. "Excuse me Mr Calvin, I've got an idea, but it would require me borrowing one of your 'Pineapples.'" Up close, the unnatural smell of lavender seemed to drift off of Yggdri in an unnaturally pleasant antithesis of nature. How, even after a potentially fatal crash, she could still smell like lavender was beyond normal logic.
 
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Hotspur 1, Landing Zone - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha watched as multiple weapons were pulled by people against one another, and without hesitation she recoiled a couple feet from the group, ready to start fleeing if they broke out into violence: There was no point in fighting a senseless conflict. Still, Bill ordered them to stand down, and with a sigh of relief she shakes her head: So much violence, so much hatred, and it was without rhyme or reason. There was an obvious discomfort in her eyes, and tension ran through shoulders. Then Bill made the comment about her stripping down for him, and she simply turned away from them silently and kept several feet of distance between herself and Bill. She was not welcome, and he was making that clear.

Still, she didn't hate them, and for those that could see her face, they would only see a somewhat disconnected expression. She was an outcast among them and was internally struggling with that. She clasps her hands together, and starts rubbing her left wrist with her right hand's thumb, trying to calm her nerves: Being an outcast in a military operation seemed quite unhealthy...

Hotspur 2, Landing Zone - Calvin D. Walter​

Calvin spotted the incoming group of Nazis cresting the Dune opposite to themselves: That put them less than 300 feet away and closing. He grabs Alcina's cat and drags it back a couple feet with himself to ensure it wouldn't be spotted, and then rolled onto his back and motioned for Julia to come up to the hill. He spoke in a hushed tone, ensuring it would carry just far enough for Julia to overhear. Thankfully, the sand dune he was laying on would prevent the sound of his voice from traveling towards the Nazis. "Two with rifles, four with submachine guns, cresting the opposing hill." He then motions for ambush positions on the sand dune he was laying on: There was no escaping the Nazis silently at this point in his mind. They had to be taken out. He pulls a grenade off his waist and grins: He had a plan in mind.

Still, there was one last factor to take care of as he glanced at Winters. The man still wanted an answer to his question, likely. So with a sigh, Calvin responds quietly. "Disappointed, not angry. She's a civi in a war zone, you know how they get." He motions over the hill. "When the shit starts, take out their CO if you can find him. If not, whoever reaches for a radio..." They might not be able to stop the Nazis from figuring out that trouble is coming, but they could at least stop them from finding out the specifics.
Click to expand...
Winyers nodded, following behind Calvin as he kneeled, Garand pointed at one of the supply trucks seemingly holding fuel in its cargo bay. "Bren gunner, up front." He whispered, seemingly talking to Okeke "Position yourself in the middle of the dune, and provide supressing fire when the first shot rings." He then looked at Yggrdi, pointing to the sides of the Sphinx where the Germans were holed up. "Use your sand powers and fully raise the sand, sending it toppling as a wave ontop of them." He looked st Calvin, pointing at the entrance. "Try to land the Gernade right there to clear the entrance. I'll fire at the fuel truck, hopefully spreading."You, trooper, front and center." He seemed to be calling to Dutch, pointing straight at thr Sphinx. "Your on point. When the sand falls on them, push through quickly. Everyone else, follow behind him. Take out anything that moves and that isn't an Allied troop." Winters then spoke directly to the Investigators. "Anyone who doesn't have combat experience, weapons out and ready to fire. Take note, do not fire unless fired directly upon. We don't want the Germans pointing there guns at you, unless close." He looked at everyone behind him, and raised a hand, telling everybody behind them to hold position.
band-of-brothers-band-of-brothers-16800262-2000-1306.jpg


"Colonel, on your go."
 
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Hotspur 2 - Lindsay Okeke​

Lindsay grimaced as he heard the soft voice behind him. He glanced back slowly over the stock of his rifle to see that it was the ever elegant creature that was Elizabeth. Lindsay clinched his fist tightly around the weapon's pistol grip in frustration, as he did so the ripples of his exposed forearm bulged beneath his sleeve length tattoos. They were simple black murals of varying African and Indian tribal design that had been hand-tapped over the course of multiple deployments. They were constantly a work in progress, growing as he grew. For now his elbow rolled sleeves exposed the markings but he was always careful to hide them in polite society with the Elizabeths of the world. It was a strange vulnerability to have her watch him in his element in spite of her naive remarks. As such, he held his tongue at her remarks, just as he had always held his tongue from such well-to-do white women.

The faint sound of Calvin's report trickled across the squad. Lindsay could feel his heart kicking in his throat as he pictured the enemy unit moving towards their position. The tension of the moment was slightly cut by Elizabeth's remark of where to start shooting. He gave a curt laugh before replying in a hushed, heavily accented voice.

"Look here, ja. I can't shoot till something comes round. And if I can help m'self I won't be shooting anythin—"

Lindsay's reply was cut short by the command of Captain Winters. Lindsay was needed at the front of the line. He quickly drew his bulky weapon from the sand and perched it on his thick quadriceps as he moved up into a squat. He loomed slightly over Elizabeth's frame who had positioned herself behind him. "I need you to stay here beside this glider, ja," Lindsay motioned to the heap of scrap lumber that had half buried itself in the soft sand. It was no more than plywood and wouldn't stand up to the lightest of bullets but hopefully it would provide her some mental comfort. He began to move toward his post but something stopped him.

Lindsay drew back down into a kneel at eye level with Elizabeth. His voice was stern but empathetic, like a scared father. "Ag. Listen to me, things are going to get real loud just now and things are going to start happening top fast. You need to keep your head down and do exactly as those okes say," he quickly gestured at the officers on the dune. "You are the mission, you understand? Stay on." He held eye contact with her for a moment longer before breaking his stance and making for the dune. As he did so he placed his hand on her shoulder as one would do the teammate of a sports team. It was likely more firm than was appropriate for a woman of her elegance and he immediately regretted the gesture. It was instinctive with his squad mates but touching the Oxbridge white girl was very different from that. He hoped no one had spotted the awkward encounter as Lindsay sprinted for the dune at a half squat.

Lindsay reached the position that he interpreted Winters's reference to. He held himself close to the warm sand. As Lindsay waited for others to assume their positions he drew the coyote colored shemagh over his unhelmeted head like the hood of a cloak, hopefully disrupting the shape of his human silhouette. When the time came he would be ready to bring his weapon to bear over the dune and unleash horror on whatever man or beast waited on the other side of that sand.
 
Ituha and Kazumasa, Hotspur 1​


"I can't say I find our leader to be inspiring of much confidence myself." Kazumasa grumbled under his breath as he caught up with the marching survivors of Hotspur 1, falling in alongside Ituha. He quickly matched his pace with hers, even as he glanced sidelong at the Lieutenant.

Ituha's gaze momentarily averted from the desert sand to Kazumasa. A small smile reaches her lips: It seemed she managed to get through to one person, at least. Perhaps Jace too, but who knew for certain beyond him. Her gaze turns back to the desert sand, as she continues rubbing her left wrist with her right hand's thumb. "He comes from a different world. It is hard to grasp what, or if, he thinks."

He rolled his eyes in the gloom of the night, offering a mild snort of bemusement. He soon looked back to Ituha. "I noticed you have no weapon of self-defense? What Private Carl may no longer make use of, may be of use to you." He quietly slid the Thompson from his left shoulder, and offered the firearm to the woman via the sling.

Ituha shakes her head and makes a motion with her hands. The wind once again blows past them, along with the sound of a wolf panting. "I have my ways, you have yours... I would not know how to use it well, anyway." There was a flicker of regret for the death of Private Carl in her eyes, though, nothing more was offered as she clasped her hands behind her back and kept walking: She was in pleasant company. "So... Your mask. It is very colourful. Misha kept staring at it, confused. What is it?"
"Well, it wouldn't hard to teach you the basics, any other time. Understood though." He quietly shouldered the smg again, finding the weight of it slightly off-putting when added to the rest of his gear, especially since, for such a compact firearm, it weighed more than his rifle. As she asked of his mask, he took a slight breath, and paused, thinking of how to phrase 'I have no goddamn idea', slightly more tactfully. "To be honest, I don't rightly know. Seems it came from my father, who was Japanese. My mother don't know much'bout him, just knew him for a week. Came in a box that only I could open, and turns me into a big, red skinned monster, that some of the immigrant shopkeepers refereed to as an 'Oni' when I showed them the mask." Shrugging, even under the burden of his gear, "Wish I did know more. Even been with the Covenant, and they say they don't know anything'bout it either." He hesistated and then stopped for a moment, pushing a thought aside before asking, "So...who is Misha?"

Though she stopped momentarily, Ituha motioned to keep walking: It's not like Bill would stop moving just for them to have a conversation, nor would the Nazis politely wait before opening fire. Still, her smile went on unabated. "Misha is..." Another momentary hesitation, attempting to find a way to describe such a thing. "... An elemental wolf, of the wind. Something my people would incorrectly call a... Spirit. She protects me, and enables me to use my abilities." She looks at Kazumasa, eye to eye. "Misha is intent on protecting everyone she can. There is great evil within those white men who wear black uniforms decorated in the skulls of those whose only crime was living." Her eyes wander back to the sand, disquieted. "Thank you."

Nodding, he resumed pace. "Elemental Wolf..." He trailed off in thought for a moment, considering her words. "Some of them are. Some of these Nazi scum are evil, right as rain, some of them are. Makes it easy to want to believe that they all are. I think that is what helps some men sleep at night. Thinking the krauts as one, evil thing. Yet," he hesitated, wincing at a memory, "not all of them are. Many are just men, doing what they think is right, without knowing the nightmares they unwittingly assist, but for many, realizing that wounds their soul something fierce."

"Yes. It does." Ituha whispers, almost inaudible. "It is why I stay away from those who laugh at violence and pain, who so easily wield it without remorse... I shudder to think that killing is so easy." Ituha sighs, there was little else she could add. "I hope this war will be ended as soon as possible."

He sighed and shook his head, "The way things are looking right now? With England blockaded, Italy and Germany in league, I hope the war isn't over soon. If it is? That means we lose." His voice gradually growing heavier and more somber as he spoke. He tried not to dwell on it however. "It needs to run at least a year, or a little longer. If Greece can do something about Italy, England will stand a better chance of pushing back against Germany."

"Oh." Ituha says with a bit of bitterness in the tone of her voice. Silence passes between them for a few moments more. "Well... At least we can do something, about it." Her smile manages to persevere, despite the grim situation presented to her on the world stage. "We will win. We have to... I will do everything I can to be sure of it. So will Misha."

He smiled slightly, a grim little smile, but with a little bit of heart infused. Her optimism was refreshing, "Well, that's good, as if this was a vacation, I would have to say you picked a terrible time and location for it. I mean, the locals are hostile and violent, the voyage across was exceedingly cramped, and the flight steward has terrible manners."

"At least I can see the stars." Looking up at the sky, her eyes seemed amazed by every little light in the sky. "For everything else, there is time."

He looked up and, grunted softly after a moment, "Hunh." A second later, he spoke something intelligible, "Familiar and alien. I suppose I never thought the sky would look so different." A sky without the constellations he had grown up with, and seen all his life, even in England, he saw the same constellations. Here though, in Egypt, the familiar shapes were gone, replaced with an entirely new starfield to gaze upon. "I wonder what constellations they recognize here are..." He trailed off as they closed in on the Hotspur 2

"Who knows... Good luck." Ituha whispers sweetly as she gets ready for potential trouble.
 
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Jace Morteres - Hotspur 1 - The March to Giza



Jace had a tune in his head, one he had been taught by his older brother. It was a dark little tune about begging Death to spare him from it's insatiable appetite for the reaping of mortal souls, Death being the only inescapable thing in the universe. It was part of what inspired him to focus on nightmares, so he could conquer his and come to terms with his mortality. He would need this skill as much as any others on this, and any other missions: a scared man was a dead man. His brother, the Ungifted of his generation in his family, became a soldier, a powerful warrior. He taught Jace many things about fighting. Most of which would save him now. Fear would make him slow, and bullets were unforgiving if one was late to avoid their path.

It was as he finished his song that he heard a very particular word from behind him- one he had known so well for so long now. Falling towards the back, Jace engaged Ituha and Kazumasa in conversation. "What about Krauts and nightmares?" he asked. "If you're referring to us giving them, yes, you are right. If about them assisting one, yes, you are right. I've seen pictures from scouts of what happens behind Nazi borders. It isn't pretty. Certainly wouldn't want to be there right now. Helluva time they give their people. I just hope this all ends with our side winning. I shudder to think what horror the Nazis would unleash if they took control." He paused, thinking on it. "Say, Windblood," he began turning to Ituha, "was that you who caused the breeze in the Hotspur? Spooked me all to shite for a moment. Thought the glider was banjaxed and we were gonna 'land' earlier that expected."
 
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Hotspur 2
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At Hotspur 2 Julia signed that they should hold fire unless it looked like they'd been discovered and fortunately, the Nazis were casually moving on, though something about their movements appeared subtly wrong.

After being hushed up by Bill they advanced on Hotspur 2 without, miraculously, any further detection as the Nazi patrol moved across the sands. Indeed, it seems that the Nazi's didn't spot either the party from Hotspur 1 moving across the sands or those who were scouting out, though the Nazi's headed on towards Hotspur 1 so it wouldn't be long until their presence was discovered.

Julia clambered up next to Winters to observe the Nazi's movements herself. It'd take them at least another four minutes or so to get close enough to see Hotspur 1's wrecked glider.

Sliding down the dune she signalled for everyone to gather and after one look at the Indian American's expression and the way she avoided Bill gave her cause to shoot the American an evil look and he was unable to meet their eyes.

In a whisper she began to issue orders. "Soldiers to front and rear, investigators and occultists in the centre, we've got at least three minutes we can use to close on the Pyramid without discovery, I want us to do so silent and quickly before those Nazi's come across Hotspur 1's wreck." She paused. "I'd love to take them out, but I do not believe we can do so quietly." She turned back to the American Indian woman, what was her name... ah yes. Ituha, "If you can whip up a light something to shield our movements, I don't know how far your abilities go..."

Bill meanwhile glowered quietly, he knew that the Russkie whore would have words for him later, and probably back them up with fists that could only have been trained in boxing. Instead he quietly checked his weapon, as much as he thought she was just a worthless russkie bitch her strategy was usually sound... but even so he didn't care to leave a Nazi patrol behind them.

...

...

...

Though at the same time all of the occultists felt their hair stand on end. Something was happening beneath the sphinx. Something dark. Something... forbidden.
 
Hotspur 1 - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha had just wrapped up her conversation with Kazumasa when Jace approached with his words. Though she frowned a little upon hearing once more of the poor treatment of prisoners of war by their opponent, her smile returned quickly when Jace asked about the wind. "Ah... Yes. That was my doing... I believe I will not be doing that again, as it seems to have frightened people." Her tone was soft and apologetic as she turned and looked towards the Hotspur they were rapidly approaching. It seemed momentarily like she wanted to add more, but she banished the thought from her mind as they reunited with the second Hotspur group.

Hotspur 2 - Calvin D. Walter​


Calvin looked stunned at the druid beside him. She wanted his grenade? Now? He checked his belt: Three more. With a wince and moment of hesitation, he hands her the grenade in his hand. "Here. Just don't go blowing yourself up, ma'am. The moment you pull the pin, you have about three to four seconds to lose it before it blows your hand off." He gives her a momentary, casual salute with a charming smile, then slides down the sand dune to Julia's side. Her orders were clear: Soldiers in front and back. The rest of the orders were the matter of those following. He glances to Alcina for a moment, before a smile creeps across his face. "Your cat, ma'am. It can scout for us, right? Why not... Erm... Ask the cat, to keep a look out for Krauts on the nearby sand dunes. That way, traveling in the valleys to avoid sight, we won't get ambushed unexpectedly by a patrol and gunned down." He looks at Julia and nods, taking the front point. His natural charm and leadership would serve well there, being able to inspire those who followed.

That, and if the Krauts did find them, he wanted first blood. The very thought made his knuckles turn white momentarily as he squeezed the wooden stock of his rifle, before moving forward and sticking to lower points on the sand dunes. The lower they were, the less likely they would be spotted.
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Hotspur 2 - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha was one of the first to reach Julia. The Russian woman was imposing and intimidating, but not necessarily frightening. The way she looked on her was not with hatred, or pity, but as a person: A rare gift in her times. Still, when asked the question of what she could do, Ituha looked at her comrades in arms and pondered for a moment. There wasn't much she could do in this situation alone. "The wind can carry me far, quickly... I can remove our footsteps from the sand... But beyond that, I have nothing I can give to distract them that wouldn't alert them... You might want to ask Yggdri." She says with a smile. She then looks at Jace and Kazu. "I will be near the back, I think." Upon Calvin asking Alcina for her cat, Ituha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

The wind rushes past for a moment, kicking up a little sand, though it settles as quickly as it came. In its place, Misha had taken physical form: A pale green, ethereal wolf, now visible to everyone as she licked Ituha's hand. "Misha, watch for us up on the hills. Be silent as the breeze of an arrow in flight." The wolf nods, and quickly moves for the tops of the sand dunes, attempting to keep out of sight of any Nazis in the area. Ituha looks to Julia, her smile growing warm and friendly. "I can do this much, at least." Taking a position at the back end of the column, leaving room for soldiers to protect her from behind, she simply kept silent: Though she seemed far more comfortable now that the powerful Russian woman was around, and that Jace and Kazumasa had treated her well.

Yet, that smile quickly faded as she shuddered, and rubbed her arms. "Something... Within the Sphinx... Is compelling me to run... Like the sound of a train full of white poachers... We need to hurry. Nature itself is being perverted."​
 
Hotspur II: Kazumasa​


Falling in behind Ituha, he listened to Julia's orders and nodded swiftly, "Mopping rear." His eyes glanced over Lieutenant Fullerton and he could make out the distinct scowl on the man's face. Bowing his head, and pinching the bridge of his nose for the moment as he turned about, Kazumasa muttered under is breath as he passed by Jace and Ituha, "I fear that man will put us between the devil and the deep for his ego."

Kazu walked to the rear, slinging the Enfield down and cradling it in his right arm, as he pulled the Thompson's sling from his shoulder. Holding the SMG by its sling, he offered it to Dutch, "Figure you might make more use of this than I." At the sudden breeze, he looked over his shoulder to see the pale green elemental appearing from the air itself. A slight smirk crossed his face as he nodded in their direction.​
 
The man of color had a distinct ethnic odor that Elizabeth did not mind in the slightest, but it did not meld well with her own scent of lavender. It formed a sour and tangy aroma that stung her nostrils as he spoke. However, his words were comforting and distracted Elizabeth from her seemingly insignificant thoughts and disputes. Even if his hand on her shoulder pressed slightly too much for her taste, it was still a thoughtful gesture. "Certainly, Mr. Okeke, I understand completely," Elizabeth nodded. However, the dark haired woman did not fully comprehend what he meant by her 'being the mission', but it did not matter in that moment. Then and there, the soldiers were the stars of the show, and they did not need someone like Elizabeth to make statements of stupidity.

Elizabeth held tight. She stuck close to the occultists and kept herself in the midst of protection from the soldiers, as Julia had commanded. As the team members of Hotspur One converged, Ms. Milton felt herself even more so safe. There was no way that the Nazis could stand against this group of fierce soldiers, magicians, otherworldly creatures, and tiny familiars and cats! They were so cute that Elizabeth could not help herself from trying to entice them for a serene petting.
 
Jace Morteres - Hotspur 2 Crash Site

Jace walked up to Julia, a suggestion on his mind. "If it would suit you, I could probably use a eyetrick spell to make it look as though the wrecks are mirages, disappearing as the soldiers get close to them. Or I could make them see shadow monsters and draw them away. smething simple I could plant and walk away. It's not foolproof, but it's better than being discovered." he shifted slightly, nervous about the ordeal. If there was one thing illusionists hated, it was being discovered in an act of deceit. And sneaking into the tomb of a long-dead line of kings to steal a book of immense power from under the nose of a powerful dead-raiser could be considered a very dangerous act of deceit.
 
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