Sniping on the Western Front - [ Death ]

[conspiracist]

Name - Vassily Bogsan

Age - 19

Nationality - Russian

Physical Appearance - Vassily is a skinny lad, weighing in at 110 pounds, due to a lack of food on the front. He is very pale, sometimes called a sheep by his comrades. He has birdseed matted black hair, covered by his hat and scarf he managed to get together from garbage on the streets. 6'1. (Do i need anything else or...?)

Personality - Vassily doesn't really believe in supporting the Communist party. He only cares about his home and the well being of his fellow troops. He will not and shall not commit atrocities against captured Germans, not only is it wrong to him, but he wants them to go home to their families.

Faction - USSR

Class - Sniper

Other - (censorship)

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Inventory

Mosin Nagant M1891/30 [ PU 3.5x Optic ] (5/5(+0))

Tokarev TT-33

7.62x54mmR Standard Ball Rounds x19

7.62x54mmR PZ Rounds x5

Tokarev TT-33 Magazine x4

        8|8, 8|8, 8|8, 8|8(+1)

Standard Rations x4

Blanket

Pillow

---

You find yourself at the top of an old library, which stands a hundred meters above the ground, with a crumbling brick wall holding up the flat, gray roof, on which you, and your spotter, a Moldavian man by the name of Fedor, who you haven't quite gotten to know, stand, at the break of dawn, after a decent night's sleep under the two inches of snow piled up on the ground. Fedor is standing by the railing, with binoculars out, overlooking the river and roads. You see the roves of other tall buildings, and there is a gargantuan fire on the other side of the city. Your rifle lies next to you, with your ammo packet, and your sidearm sits under your pillow.

[The Villa Strangiato]

"Fedor, any sign of the Nazi scum?" I ask as I load my rifle.

[conspiracist]

You load six rounds into your rifle, as he puts down the binoculars, then keeps looking off into the distance. "Yeah, yeah, there's a scout up across the river," he says, then taking up his rifle from it's sling, then looking down it's scope. "I think it's safe to assume he's four hundred meters out."

[The Villa Strangiato]

I set my rifle up, then proceed to look through the scope and aim slightly up to compensate for bullet drop.

[conspiracist]

You set up at the concrete railing, resting your rifle on it. Through the scope, you see a man with binoculars and a gray uniform, standing along on a roof. You estimate he takes up about a fourth of the space between the two side pins, therefore confirming Fedor's 400m estimation.

[The Villa Strangiato]

"Firing in three, two, one."
I pull the trigger, hoping my 7.62x54 round does the rest.

[conspiracist]

You pull the trigger, seeing a flash, then hearing a sound, then feeling the beast of a rifle kick back into your shoulder and knock your aim off. Through the dark corner of the scope, you see the man's right shoulder blow off in a mist red miasma of blood, as his body falls over with a thud echoing through the warzone.

Fedor stays silent, with his binoculars still on target.

[The Villa Strangiato]

I cycle the bolt.
"Any others?" I ask Fedor. My hands tremble not only because of the sheer power of the Nagant, but I know that someone doesn't return home.

[conspiracist]

"Nein, herr," he says, jokingly, looking left and right with his binoculars, making sure the streets were clear.