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The sun dawns on a smoky section of trenches, the opposing sides separated by several hundred yards of scorched earth and the ruins of many vehicles and aircraft. A constant, nauseating small of rotting and burning flesh fills the air from the hundreds of corpses in the no-man's-land, their lives casually thrown away in failed frontal assaults. The trenches are practically permanent fortifications, with massive underground bunkers for troops to sleep and plan in, and elaborate firing pits for mortars and anti-tank missiles dot the lines. Heavy ramps can be thrown over the tops of the trenches to allow armored vehicles from the rear to cross the lines and head out into battle, though few return. Sporadic small arms and mortar fire keeps life uncomfortable for the troops on both sides, though this is preferred to the dreaded "over the top," which exposes the men to the full fury of enemy machine gun, missile, and artillery fire.

It is into this intolerable stalemate that your characters awake. Will this be another day in the trenches, or is there change in the air?

I look out onto the battle field, trying to find the solider I was hired to kill, although I knew nothing about him, I knew that I had been paid a substantial amount of money to kill him, I pulled out my rifle and lined up the sights, found my target, and then I fired the round, his body went stiff and he fell to the ground.

(wait is this supposed to be in first person?)
Hiding among the wreckage of past battles Seth hears the alarm ring. Heh, looks like they found the gift I sent them. arming the detonator he counts down to send his enemies to their fate.

[All depends on your roleplay style.]

Captain Nikoya Arlington yawns and tumbles out of a bunk cut into the side of a trench. He stretches and ignores the patter of rifle fire that backgrounds the life of trench warfare, half-heartedly shaking some of the dust off of his officer's trench coat and throwing it over his body armor. He reaches up and takes his helmet, adjusts the card in the brim, and slaps it on his head, ignoring the chinstrap. He grabs his carbine and walks down the trenches, inspecting the men and their positions. Gonna be a long day, Arlington muses as he passes a team manning a Pecheneg machine gun.

Seth approaches the Confederate lines with care making sure not to be noticed by alliance scouts. "Captain Arlington! I'm here to offer you my services if you'll have me." He says jumping into the trench landing with ease. "If you look to the Alliance lines you should see some smoke in the distance!" Then smiles slyly, "That would be my doing, not quite sure what it was, but it looked important."

"Oh, then that was you? Hmmm...passable, but sloppy, very sloppy." A voice referencing the explosions comes from a small hole roughly dug out from the side of the trench.

"Sloppy, huh, didn't know there was a clean way of killing. I just kinda hate the alliance right now ya know, so i blew them up. Besides blowing up something ain't supposed to be neat, it's supposed to be messy," Seth smiles he liked the person's thought of his work.

"Another merc, eh?" Captain Arlington mutters half to himself, sticking his eyes against a periscope-like device that enables him to see over the top of the trenches without risking his head. He eyes the smoke for a moment, then looks back to Seth. "Well, that may have been you, or it may not. Either way, I'm not saying no to another body. Judging from your... manners, I'd guess you already know about the Articles of Mercenary Employment? Go get your contract okayed with the quartermaster back in the secondary trenches, look for the sign labeled 'easy street', then get back here." Arlington looks away from Seth for a moment and to the hole in the trench. "BOOMCLAW!" he hollers jestingly, "ARE YOU HARASSING THE FRESH MEAT AGAIN!?"

Seth jumps into the trench and sprints passed the troops to the secondary trenches. "Hey Boomclaw! I wanna finish this later!" He runs to the quartermaster and hands him the contract. The quartermaster okays it and sends Seth back to the frontlines.

Janus Shulkov slowly awakes to the sound of Arlington screaming at Boomclaw. Again with the yelling... are all Confederate commanders like this? He wonders to himself. "What did the little one do this time, Captain? Harassing mercenaries again, yes?" He manages to utter whilst stumbling toward Arlington, yawning. He checks both of his sidearms, ensuring they are loaded in case of Alliance attacks on the trenches. "What news from the fronts, Sir?" He grumbles out in slightly butchered English to Arlington.

Arlington stands up and looks to Shulkov. "Relax, son, just keeping friendly with the troops; it keeps morale up. Nothing today that wasn't the same yesterday, but as I'm sure you're aware, no news is good news around here." As he says this, a passing soldier nods to him, saying, "Amen to that, sir!"

Shulkov chuckles at the soldier's remark. Until news that you are dead comes to Alliance, 'Sir.' he thinks to himself. "I understand that you are joking, Captain. Is good to have some relief, yes?" Chyort... Can't kill him today, too many troops here. Need to create suspicion on someone else soon. Deflecting accusations works very well. Now all I need is scapegoat, he continued to plot out in his mind. "Do you have assignment for me?" He asks Arlington, still only half awake.

Captain Arlington slings his carbine over his shoulder and nods to Seth. "Give the new merc the grand tour, what he can expect around here and whatnot. First, however," he turns to the mercenary, "a little demonstration. There's a reason these trenches are so deep, bud." Arlington turns to a pair of troopers who had been standing around nearby. They grin, and one of them pulls a field hat out of a crate and places it atop a long wooden pole held by his comrade. The soldier then hefts the hat up so that it pokes out above the trench. Almost instantly a thundering volley of machine gun fire echoes out from the opposing line, cutting the pole in half just above the trenchline and tearing the hat to pieces. The troops laugh at their baited opponents and place a green hankerchief atop the battered pole, waving it over the fortification like the hit flag at a shooting range. "That," says Arlington, turning to Seth again, "is why you stay in the trenches."

Janus tilts his head over toward Seth. "You hear that, comrade? I get to give you the... how you say, run-down." He lazily slings on his Kevlar vest. "This way," he mutters at Seth. As the two of them walk down the trench, Shulkov suddenly stops and grabs a helmet from the ground. "There are two rules here. First rule, always wear one of these. Will save your life. Has saved mine about... four times now, if recall correctly. Find yourself one. Second rule, always listen to the Captain. Not only because he is higher on chain of command, but because he knows things that save everyone's lives on more than one occasion." He points towards one of the dug out structures next to the trench line. "If you get lost, there is map of trenches inside each building, and signs around each corner. Now I must be getting back to my post. Duty calls, yes?" He lazily salutes and walks away, taking a swig from his canteen as he goes.

"Thanks, but the helment won't be necessary, never needed one." Seth salutes. "Hey maybe I'll see you around mr..."

Arlington shakes his head. "Whatever, merc, your head, not mine. The current deal is that we need to figure out what we can do to break the stalemate. Command has pretty much given up on strategic methods, so we need to use tactics at a company level to take care of this. Any ideas?"

A chittering noise that may have been a laugh is heard from the hole.
"To much talking...always with the talking. I have already put a little plan of mine into action, you see, if that is alright, Captain."

Grimgear waddles down the trench towards the group using Skewer as if it were a cane. As his slayer crest bobs over the top of the trench gun shots whiz past it, for some reason none of them hitting. "Arlington, if I be tellin' ya once, I be tellin' ya a hunder't times! Use my walkin' armors. I got some o' dem hooked up to shoot them gatlin' guns ya got. AND I work some bugs out. Now about only 'bout half a' dem' explode!" Grimgear has an elated look on his face like this is the best thing in the world by the time he stops walking. He reaches up to push his goggles up from his eyes and blows soot out of his beard. "Sa' good idea!"

Arlington spins on his heel to confront his charges. "Alright, one at a time. Firstly, Boomclaw, would you care to elaborate? And then, Grimgear, you probably have told me about your 'walkin' armors' before, but hell if I remember what you're talking about."