Clusterfrag

Max's initial round ricochets off the balcony.
His second round catches the sniper in the torso, seriously wounding him.

The injured sniper attempts to drag himself out of the line of fire.

Rawhide lays down a suppressive fire on the second sniper's location.

The second sniper stays pinned down under Rawhide's suppressive fire. (( Delaying action. ))

The third sniper pops up and takes a shot at Doc.
Doc winces as debris rains down on his head from the chunk of flagstone he's crouched behind.

Tyros drops down behind some rubble. Peeking around the corner to where he can catch a glimpse of one of the snipers, he tries to summon up a ball of fire to burn them to cinders as the dwarf suggested. A look of pure confusion and concern flashes across his face, "Dwarf, I don't know how to set those guys on fire! I don't know any spells like that, am I supposed to?"

Panicking, Tyros lifts his machine gun, its unfamiliar, almost distasteful weight, foreign to his hands and blindfires (full auto) it around the corner at where the snipers are hiding.

(( Dougal:))

GM Nick wrote:(( Everyone is equipped with form-fitting armor, Colt M23 assault rifles, smoke grenades and Beretta 101T handguns. Assume all your normal skills/spells. ))

The assault rifle dances around in Tyros' oversized hands, blasting bullets in all directions but ultimately failing to do any real damage.

Max fires on the first visible sniper he sees.

Plaster explodes from a scaffolding as Max's shot misses the mark.
The second shot explodes the head of a nearby statue.

"We're gonna be here all day! Cover me Doc!"

Rawhide takes off sprinting towards the nearest staircase.

Doc lays down a stream of suppressing fire, hoping to give his diminutive comrade a fighting chance to make the staircase.

((I read that John, but Tyros is confused as hell. Assuming all my normal skills, I should have a fucking sword, not a machine gun - something Tyros has never touched in his life. And when the dwarf, presumably your comrade in arms, tells you to light something on fire, and you can't, thats a little wired too."))

Max's mother always told him that if you set your sights to accomplish a task, you have to see it through. Well, Max set his sights on a Russian sniper and he has every intention to see this moment through to the sniper's death. The elf reels in his bizarre surroundings as he fires twice more.

Max fails to register a hit on his first shot.
The elf's expert shot pierces the sniper's armor, scoring a serious wound in the stomach.

The second sniper returns fire, despite his wounds.
Barely able to hold his rifle up, the sniper's shots are both wide.

Rawhide, having mounted the stair to the balcony, leaps on the third sniper with all the voracity of a hungry tiger.
The sniper reacts just in time to block a hefty blow from the dwarf.

The third sniper attempts a sweeping kick.
Rawhide jumps over the failed attack.

Doc zeros in on the first sniper, and fires two shots.

The first sniper's head explodes, splattering the walls of the ancient cathedral with gray matter.

Doc switches to the next target and fires.
Whirling in place, Doc eyes down the iron sights and fires.

The sniper is struck as he is standing and the force of the bullet forces him to stagger back through the brittle remnants of the stained glass window. He slips through with a spectacular crash and falls to his death, becoming impaled on the spear-tip of a statue of the Tzar in the courtyard.

Max quips at his "Colonel,"

"You don't get style points, you know."

"You do when you make Corporal!" He shoots back.

"It's one of the perks of promotion."

Tyros jumps up and charges to where Rawhide is engaged with the final sniper. Holding his machinegun like it is a club, Tyros puts all his considerable weight behind a swing at the enemy's head.

Tyros runs up the stairs and swings the stock at his assailant, but the awkward wielding causes him to stumble forward and smack a statue of St. John instead.

Max fires on the final sniper.

Max fires two successive shots, each hitting the sniper. His victim is thrown against a wall and slides to the floor--dead.

Doc scratches his head--unable to chase away the nagging suspicion that he's not remembering something important.

Max grumbles to himself,

"'Bout fraggin' time."

Turning to his cohort that seems to glitching here and there, he asks,

"You feeling alright, uh.. Colonel? It looks like you're trying to think of a word that's on the tip of your tongue."

Doc stares at the ground, and taps his head.

"I, yeah, there's something. Is there anything we're forgetting to do? I could swear I've been here before, but under different circumstances."

Tyros shakes his head as he drops his club-like machinegun. "I'll tell you whats wrong, I'm missing my sword. I'm supposed to have a sword, a big one. Where did it go?" Tyros' hands open and close as if their muscle memory is trying to remember the grip of a hilt.

"Don't shoot! I am unarmed!"

A man in a Russian General's uniform (though badly tattered) emerges from the back of the cathedral. His hands are behind his head, fingers interlinked.

"I surrender as a prisoner of war."

Doc raises his rifle, and barks out,

"Keep your hands behind your head, turn around, and walk backwards toward us. Overstreet, give him a pat-down. We don't need any surprises."