Rolls are BO3 with a 1d20.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>618179

>Charge

Let's see where you go with this...

>>618179
>>Charge
Lets do it OP. Vote firs and then roll once something is picked?

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>618179
>>Charge

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>618179
Alright, let's see if we die immediately.

>Charge

As you wait for the final round of artillery thoughts of attempting to break away and escape hit you, but in the end you squash them thoroughly. As the order to charge is given the men in front start screaming in defiance towards the enemies you face on this field, and soon you join in the effort. A single voice and body among many, you and the people you have come to call friends charge forwards. A hundred metres – the distance to the next trench and your goal, and a field filled with death. Funny enough the rain serves as your ally, covering your initial advance and giving you more time to close in.

Not being in front, you do not realize what happens until the sounds hit you. The sound of machineguns thundering in the distance, their cruel bullets scything down your fellow soldiers like wheat for the harvest, but the only thing you can do is keep pressing forward. As the screaming noise of the machineguns and the actual screams of your friends get closer, you find yourself in the front of the charge, and that is when it hits you, quite literally. It takes you a moment to realize what exactly happened, but when you look down you cannot see anything, because you’re lying face down in the dirt.

Turning your body around, you feel your guts slowly spilling out of your stomach that was cut open like a sack of potatoes, and just out of arms reach you see your left leg, cut off just above the knee. The fact that you are going to die hits you, but in the end even your pathetic screams of defiance are drowned out by the sound of the machineguns and the cold, cruel rain.


As you wake, you slowly open your eyes. You realize you are unable to breathe, and soon realize this is because you are lying face down in the dirt. Turning yourself around, you realize it is night around you, and that you are still out in the field. Looking down, you see your ruined clothes and a stomach that reminds you of the skin over a newly healed wound. You see your leg is still a stump, but that the wound itself closed up and that your leg is growing back. Your stomach sinks, and you feel cold – almost like you’ve been dropped in cold water.

Waiting for hours, you continuously observe your foot. Taking care not to yell out, you stay very still so that no one will notice you. If the charge failed you do not want to be caught out in the open. As your foot finishes growing back, you realize you have to move.

>Choices

>Return to your old trench
>Keep following the charge forward, maybe your companions made it?
>Write in.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>618233

>Get up and keep charging

I guess we're Deadpool...

Neat...

>>618233
wait, what?

>As your foot finishes growing back

we wolverine now.

>Keep following the charge forward, maybe your companions made it?
Be quiet and ready to retreat if we notice the charge failed completely.

>>618233
>>Keep following the charge forward, maybe your companions made it?

>>618233
>>Keep following the charge forward, maybe your companions made it?

Choosing to continue forward, you stay low and move very slowly. After lying still in the mud for hours on end, you blend in perfectly, letting you creep close to the trench. The first thing you do is recognize the face of your sergeant, twisted in pain. The thick yellow miasma gathered in the trench betrays what happened here, and the realization disgusts you. Chloride gas – a weapon much preferred by the Germans that slowly squeeze the life from the people it manages to catch in its clutches. You feel anger simmering up inside you, but remain level headed. Just as you do, you feel the wind on your face. Looking towards the side, you see a thick cloud heading your way. Choosing to retreat a few steps, if slowly blows over.

Lying still, you wait while the miasma slowly dissipates from the trench, and then roll down, hiding in the dark. Meanwhile, you notice dawn breaking in the distance, and you realize that neither the side realized what happened in the trench during the night. While the Germans gassed it, they had no way to confirm they got any actual hits, and your fellow allies have no idea what transpired here.

>Choices

>Raise the British flag and signal towards your allies that you managed to capture the trench
>Hide among the corpses, waiting for whoever arrives next
>Retreat
>Advance alone (?????)

>Keep following the charge forward, maybe your companions made it?
But quietly so we can do some ninja shit in the night if we have the chance.

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>618304

>Advance alone

>>618304
>Raise the British flag and signal towards your allies that you managed to capture the trench
For Queen and country chaps, it's our duty to signal the success of the advance.

Imma give it ten more minutes if you guys want to discuss what to do or wait for more votes.

>>618304
>>Hide among the corpses, waiting for whoever arrives next

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>618304
>>618317

In the interest of not killing the pace of this quest via a stalemate, I'll change my vote to:

>>618319

>>618304
>>Raise the British flag and signal towards your allies that you managed to capture the trench

Before anything happens, you realize you must find a way to signal your allies that you managed to capture the trench. Rummaging through your former allies equipment, you find a British flag. Hoisting it up on a stick, you wave it around. It does not take long for you to see movement in both camps, but your allies are quicker to the draw. Soon allied troops flood into the trench. While they first approach in joy because of the gained ground, the mood turns solemn after they realized what happened. Quickly searching around, they found other survivors in the edges of the trench, places where the gas was not concentrated enough to kill, merely incapacitate.

After a couple of hours of refurbishing the trench, switching direction of all stationary defences, you find yourself crawling around in the midday sun. During the morning, the sun started to rise – the mud started drying up, and visibility increased. This in turn means you have to stay low unless you wish for a snipers bullet to your head. Silently huddling in the corner of the trench, you realize that you are being avoided by your fellow soldiers. Sharpening your ears as much as possible, you realize that they are both impressed and afraid. A single man surviving a suicidal rush and a gas attack alone, without injury to his person? This in turn makes you realize that your bloody and torn clothes need changing, and you yourself need a shower.

After cleaning up you sit yourself down in another corner, still being avoided by the rest of the soldiers. Nearby, the soldiers are roasting rats, and you politely ask for one. A combination of fear and respect makes one of the soldiers insist on you taking two, and you hear both British and French voices agreeing to the proposal. Sitting down, again alone, you slowly eat away on your food. It’s around two in the afternoon, and if you would not find yourself in this field of death, following the footsteps of your two older brothers, you probably would be out harvesting with your family as you are not yet old enough to own a farm on your own. The bizarre though, combined with the stress of the night and the fact that you just now realized you died earlier, makes you laugh. The other soldiers around you take some additional distance while you sit alone laughing in the face of the dead rat in your hands.

As you finally gather your composure, you hear calls to rouse the men sleeping – the Germans are trying to take back their trench.

>Choices

>Stay in the trench and fight all the way through. The most dangerous place is surely where a dead man belongs.

>Retreat to re-join the counterattack – this is often the most effective way to end the fight.

>Attempt to flee; you just want to go home and farm. Who cares if they want to kill you.

>Meet the Germans charge in the fields. They will taste your bayonet.


Roll 1d20, bo3.

>>618464

>Stay in the trench and fight all the way through. The most dangerous place is surely where a dead man belongs.

What is dead may never die!

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>618480

Rolling...

>>618464
>>Stay in the trench and fight all the way through. The most dangerous place is surely where a dead man belongs.

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>618532
And roll, because my brain is mush

>>618536
Wew lads. Time for some trench warfare.

>>618464
>>Stay in the trench and fight all the way through. The most dangerous place is surely where a dead man belongs.

Agreed, with great power, yada yada yada...

File: entrenching-tool-09-5b-1.jpg (63 KB, 800x533)

63 KB JPG

They are fast at preparing their offensive, and in only a couple of minutes they are ready for their attack. Being one of the few soldiers on lookout you are in an exposed position when the artillery hits. Thankfully, the strong winds carry the shells off course and they totally fail at softening up your defences. Standing in the front, it’s truly a spectacle seeing the Germans charge towards you. They come at you in in droves – maybe they were organized, but the panic of the failed bombardment and the sure fate of death that retreat would force upon you makes them desperate. Like you and your comrades, they run into the cold scythe of death upon the fields as the monotone sound of machinegun fire rings out behind you.

But the Germans are many, and not even your weapons manage to fully hold them off. They reach the trenches, fewer than before but still numerous, and so the melee starts. You meet them, and the first German to fall for your bayonet is in all probability even younger then you, and you are only a meagre nineteen years old. His face twisted in pain and with tears in his eyes, you open his gut much like what happened to yourself. It’s odd seeing him collapse to the ground, and you realize this is the very first person you’ve killed with your own hands in such a gruesome manner. Not having been on the front for very long, you’ve generally been kept at the back of charges such as these. This new instinct telling you to kill them is something that never reared its ugly head until this very moment.

Getting a shot off into the next man in line, you feel a knife digging into your right side. Falling backwards, you scramble for something to strike back with. And in your hands you feel the solid handhold of a leftover entrenching tool. Swiping out, you feel the flat side hitting the same man that stabbed you in the head, stunning him momentarily. This short moment proves to be long enough for you to cut open his throat with the jagged edge, and you feel the spade biting into his bones. With this, his grip on the knife in your side weakens, and you tear it out yourself. The pain is burning into your side, but you already notice the flow of blood has lessened. Keeping the knife in your left hand, you tackle another German next to you to the ground. Sadly, he already managed to finish off the other Briton next to you, but you get revenge in his stead.

Looking up, you notice that you managed to hold the trenches with minimal casualties, and that the Germans that participated in the attack are either groaning in pain while slowly dying, or already splayed onto the ground in lifeless heaps.

Capitalizing on the failed offensive, the allied forces gather up for a counter assault on the German trenches. Their main trenches.

>Choices

>Follow the assault and keep pace.
>Follow the assault but break away and try to arrive first of all.
>Stay in the trench, you still have a minor wound in your side.
>Try to flee home.


Roll 1d20, bo3.

>>618626
>Follow the assault but break away and try to arrive first of all.
We might not be fast enough while wounded but if we can soak up some bullets then more of our friends will make it to the next trench to take it.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>618626

>Follow the assault but break away and try to arrive first of all.

Might as well send the (presumably) immortal guy in first...

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>618641
Forgot dice

>>618626
>>Follow the assault and keep pace.
We can still be incapacitated, so we need to stay up long enough to get to the trench

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>618664
reee i forgot dice again

Standing up, you join in on the charge on the German trenches. Because of how quick your response was, they did not have time to prepare proper defences or replace their lost men. Rushing forward, the machineguns slowly were overrun – you yourself managed to hit one of the gunners from a standing position. That’s when it appeared – a German carrying a flamethrower. Being in front, they took aim at you. Locking eyes with the soldier, you grit your teeth and jump just as he presses the trigger. Never before have you jumped this high, carrying you over the flame onto the side – the gunner so confused he does not even realize that you manage to dive into him and drive the dagger under his ribs. Letting the trigger up, the flame slowly dies down and you hear your fellow soldiers flowing into the trenches. Looking into the eyes of the man you just killed, he looked so sombre. No fear, and no hatred, only a realization that he would die, and complete acceptance of the fact. You see the blood blooming around the wound, your own wound from the very same knife aching in your side.

Giving him a merciful death, you regroup with the other soldiers that came in after you. They look at you, their previous looks of fear and apprehension still there, but their eyes are also filled with gratitude for what you did. They quickly start speaking on what to do next, and you simply listen. Suddenly, the same officer that grouped you together for the offensive towards the trenches, a lieutenant a little older then you, show up in your little circle. He explains to your little group that you’ve all reached the main German trench system in the area, and if you manage to drive them out of here you will have complete control of the area.

>Choices

>Follow the group forward.
>Go alone.
>Stay and rest up, you’ve been on alert for a good while now.
>Escape – you never wished for this.

Roll 1d20 bo3.

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>618765

>Follow the group forward.

One war, one army...

>>618765
>Follow the group forward.
Can't abandon our boys this close to the finish line, we may need to take a break after this though and figure out why we have super powers.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>618765
>>Follow the group forward.

Question OP...

Do the rolls determine an action's degree of success, or do they determine which of the first three commands are executed?

>>618765
>>Follow the group forward.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Glcg95L4JK4

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>618794
again

>>618821
Rolls determine degree of success. If you would've gotten 10 or lower on last roll you might have been totally fucking toasted.

Gonna take a little while, got food waiting for me first.

>>618857

hey we'd just heal up anyway

>>618892
Exactly, but it would have taken enough time for the offensive to be a failure. The morale would have been shot if everyone around that area got roasted.

Following the other soldiers, you go deeper into the trenches. Looking at their faces, you realize just why you trust them – they are much like your former comrades. Hallow faces, poorly fed and tired of war and battle, but still willing to stand up for what they believe is right. Would you be able to do the same in the end? After the travesties you have seen, the lives lost in pointless attacks, people thrown like sand into the ocean, young men your own age falling to cold, merciless machines of steel.

As you keep pressing forward, you push the Germans back. You still have your knife, and in the tight quarters in the trenches it serves you well. None of you sustain any grievous wounds, but you suffer a ricocheted bullet in your leg. Instead of mentioning it, you keep pressing on with the rest. The Germans who initially showed such bravado start retreating en masse when they realize they cannot get soldiers to the front fast enough. You and the men manage to clean out your part without any casualties, but you almost lost several people when you initially missed a rigged mine that would have blown up in the middle of your group.

It’s been a week since you managed to push into the entirety of the German trenches in the area. Afraid that the Germans would take back the trenches, even if they’ve totally left the area, the ones in control chose to not move you and the other soldiers. In the week that has gone by, you’ve managed to recover fully – no wounds are visible and you yourself cannot understand correctly what has happened.

Sitting around, waiting for further orders, a runner approaches you. The other soldiers have kept their distance the entire week after hearing about your exploits during the battle, and thus you have not really gotten any conversation. Quickly opening the letter, you notice that they are redeployment orders meant for a ‘Samuel Montgomery Marlow’ – in other words, you. The orders are for you to immediately report back to HQ, and they will tell you what do next.

>Choices

>Ignore orders and stay (will get yo ass arrested)
>Run
>Follow orders


Also - next scene out dear MC will have time to think about what has happened to him, anything you want to consider?

>>619038

>Follow orders.

Not really any reason to suddenly go rogue...

>Consider: Apparent invincibility.

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>619038

>follow orders

time to get that promotion and punch the kaiser in the mouth
do not reveal our powers to the higher-ups at any cost

>>619038
>>Follow orders

>>619038
>Follow orders
Hopefully they send us out to do spec ops shit and don't put us on an operating table for science.

Choosing to follow orders, you report to operation HQ. They give you further orders to travel westward, away from the front. No other information is given, and this is how you find yourself on a small truck heading to unknown lands. Sitting in the back alone except for the smell of spoiled meat you think about what has happened to you ever since that devastating charge. It all started when you actually died, or did you? You clearly remember almost being split in two parts. You remember your leg lying beside your body and you remember how it all grew back. It all came from that cool feeling in your stomach, the brutal impulses and the sudden willingness to partake in battles.

You do not get any further then that before falling asleep right away. Even with the bumping truck shaking you around, you still find it more peaceful then perpetual fear of German gas attacks while asleep, and when you wake up you find that the truck has stopped. Looking towards the driver, he gives you a slight nod indicating that this is where you were supposed to go. Stepping out of the truck, you see soldiers dressed in special garb. Covered faces, smaller, slim helmets and almost no insignia, they carry marks of several countries – Britain, France and the United States. They walk up to you, no words spoken between them and gently prod you into the building behind them.

Walking into the building, you see that it’s sparsely furnished. When you finally stop, you end up in a fairly spacious room with a single chair in it. Indicating that you are supposed to sit down, you do, and this is when they tie your arms and legs together with the chair. Unable to move, you cannot resist when you see them walk up with a rifle with a long magazine. Aiming it towards you, you can do nothing but scream as you feel its bullets rip into your body, tearing you apart.

When you finally wake up, it’s like the first time. Your skin is reddened, but now instead of only red, it has a slight grey tint. You feel sore all over when a man, obviously highly decorated, walks into the room. He looks serious, but you have your guard up. Then, for the first time in almost a week, someone finally talks to you.

“Samuel Montgomery Marlow, we’d like you to join our special forces.”

>Choices

>Yes
>No (????)
>Write in? (Questions?)

>>619251

>Yes

>>619251
>Who are you? Where am I? How did you figure me out?

>>619251
>>619277
Dis

>>619251

Yes

>>619251
>Yes, but did you have to shoot me?

>>619310
The collected British option, seconded.

Looking towards him, you feel anger. Realizing how futile of an endeavour fighting back would be, you lower your head. Taking a deep breath, you again raise your head, looking the unknown man straight into his eyes.
“Yes. I would like to join your special forces, on the stipulation that you answered some questions. Is this alright?”

The man is now smiling – a most unnerving smile not befit of a man looking at other people.
“Perfect! Yes, I understand how you might be confused about the current happenings, I know I’d be! Maybe you want me to explain who are as well?” Leaning back, his grin expands. He’s obviously waiting for you to ask him, making you beg. Something inside of you wants to tear him apart, rip his limb from limb, cut him with the knife in your boot, the same knife you used to kill that young boy just the other week. You supress these thoughts, and once again you wonder where these thoughts are coming from.

“I would very much like to know who you are sir. I’d also like to know how you knew that I healed. But then, if you knew, why did you shoot me? And where are we?”

He keeps looking at you, with that ever so slight grin still on his lips, like he’s looking at a child, or maybe a little animal acting up towards him.
“Well, let me start with the easy questions first, yes? We’re nowhere special! It might seem so, but this is just a normal, abandoned house we appropriated for this meeting. After this it’ll burn to the ground and no one will ever notice, it’s the perfect way to conduct these meetings! And how we knew that you healed, and why we shot you? We shot you because we didn’t know!”

The man starts laughing aloud, the other figures standing along the wall still unmoving.
“We had to find out! We’d heard some rumours, of course, about a mysterious soldier being the only survivor of his entire company to survive without injuries, and then proceed to partake in the continued assault without any other injuries as well! We just had to find out, so we ordered you here and shot you to see if it was true! If not, you simply would have died last week in a meaningless assault on German fortifications!”

You feel anger boil up inside you before quickly suppressing it. They shot you to find out if you really could heal? Sick fucks.
“And the finale – who we are!” He claps his hands in a dramatic manor. “We’re a congregation of all the allied nations, or” – nodding towards the soldiers with American markings “ nations that soon will be allied.” He now turns serious, looking at you with a serious face. “We recruit – special – people to our little special operations unit. People like you. People who alone can make a difference, and together will be able to change the course of the war themselves. This is who we are, and now you’re a part as well. Welcome to this little motley crew, or as we’re officially known as - the “Special Acquisitions Unit”!”

>Choices

>Questions (???)
>More info (???)

>>619397

Ask if there are any other "gifted" individuals

>>619397
>Do the Germans have other people like us?

Also, QM, spaces between paragraphs please. There shouldn't be single lines that are disconnected from the rest of the paragraph but look technically attached to it because of the real spaces between paragraphs.

>>619533
Do i not have spaces between my paragraphs? Maybe my word program is fuckimg me over. Should i shorten the "width" of each paragraph so they become easier to read maybe?

>>619542
>The man starts laughing aloud, the other figures standing along the wall still unmoving.
>“We had to find out! We’d heard some rumours, of course, about a mysterious soldier being the only survivor of his entire company to survive without injuries, and then proceed to partake in the continued assault without any other injuries as well! We just had to find out, so we ordered you here and shot you to see if it was true! If not, you simply would have died last week in a meaningless assault on German fortifications!”

See how these two should be separated? The first is just one line, and there should be a space between it and the paragraph under it. Either that or it needs to be a rewritten to be a part of the paragraph.

>>619397
>Can he shed any light on the extent and nature of our abilities?

Over the course of the war, the name ‘Special Acquisitions Unit’ became a well-known secret. Who they were, and how they did what they did was secret, but the fact that there were soldiers as strong and as brave as the ‘SAU’ insured the populace that they were in good hands.
After the war, ‘SAU’ continued to work together, even recruiting German, Hungarian and Austrian soldiers. In the entire unit and those closely affiliated, all of them had extraordinary powers. In the prelude to the next big war that started in 1947 when the infamous ‘Golden King’ took control of the entirety of northern Africa, ‘SAU’ fought back as well as they could. It was not until after this that the fact that they had powers became public, and the name ‘Samuel Montgomery Marlow’ became a household name.

Switching off the fully integrated 3D module, you sit up in your couch. All of this, the ‘SAU’, its secret heroics and their brave escapades was something far removed from yourself.
Nowadays, all superpowered activity was closely monitored by the government, and strictly regulated – breaking these regulations could result in very harsh punishment. While vigilantes existed, they were often treated on the same level as actual criminals because of how their reckless behaviour could injure civilians.

Walking towards the kitchen, you idly wonder where the hell your sister and older brother are. Your younger sister is spending time with your parents’ right in front of you, but your very own twin is too disinterested?
Shaking your head, you walk up to them to talk about the video you just saw when the entire world turns into fire.


I'm sorry for the whole 'bait and switch', but i needed a real setup (if only for myself). Trust me when i say that Montgomery will show up in the following quest as well, i've already thought out plenty about him.

If you have any questions, please do not be afraid of asking them.

Blah blah blah, Twitter if you want to follow this.
https://twitter.com/SpookySketelal

>>619561
Yeah, i understand now. I'm just generally wary about writing my paragraphs too short. I, personally, find it very annoying when people write basically one sentence per paragraph, makes it hard to read.

File: This Sentence has Five Words.jpg (175 KB, 540x1575)

175 KB JPG

>>619708
Varying sentence length is important though. Some should be short and some should be long depending on what makes the writing good.