Summary:
This got a little long overall. I’m starting a new zombie apocalypse. It’ll be RP heavy with some random elements. To make my workload a bit easier players will be updating their own character sheets at the beginning of each turn. If you wish to join, post a character sheet. Looking for 5 or 6 people right now, of which I've got 10 playing. I may consider taking more people in later, but am not taking character sheets currently (if I do, expect to see a fancy subject change). I'll direct anyone else who wants to play to RAM, who is running a cooperative character.
Well, our forum veterans will remember the little zombie apocalypse games. To the neophytes (or those who need refreshers), the first little zombie apocalypse was started by Leo. Sadly, it’s not available to be seen by most forum goers currently. There were a few that came after that. Basically, they were generally very RP heavy games set in a zombie apoc. I’ll be starting another one, right now.
Overview: RP heavy game set in a zombie apocalypse. Players will create characters and post actions, the GM (me) will then post results. The game is mostly determined by the GM, however there are some (hidden) randomized and preset characteristics. In general though, common sense rules.
Joining: Right now, there are 10 accepted and 10 submitted characters, with 0 on the waiting list. I’m accepting 5 or 6 players to start with. If you’d like to play, please create a character. The preferred format (which I’d greatly appreciate if we could stick too, it makes working on the first posts much easier) is below. I’m not placing very many restrictions on characters. If you want a Mary Sue, feel free. Just be forewarned that life might be tougher for you. I am, however, limiting most things to realistic equipment. If you really want to use your character from another universe, then he shouldn’t be getting anything more powerful than a M4 equivalent (Strife’s infinite ammunition shotgun pistol, for example, is right out). I’m also making the rule that you may not consider a squad of Space Marines, Orks, Necrons, etcetera to be acceptable starting equipment. Please use the format below.
Username: (your screen name, expect me to shorten it for conversational use)
Character name: (if you want to use something similar to your screen name, that is perfectly acceptable)
Gender: (although these games tend to end up sausage fests, feel free to play a female)
Age: (The age the character has the appearance of, if you feel like going for the risky choice of having a character like Strife)
Physical Description: (What do they look like?)
Life Description: (What has he done? Jobs?)
Skills: (Any special skills or strengths s/he might have, feel free to quantify as much as you want for a standardized system, use DF job descriptions, so a character who has fired a gun once or twice might have Novice, or if he‘s had time to look at the mechanism but not fire it, he might just be dabbling. http://www.dwarffortresswiki.net/index.php/Experience (http://www.dwarffortresswiki.net/index.php/Experience) However, if it doesn‘t make sense to use the prefix then don‘t, we can sort it out as we go)
Weaknesses: (I recommend that you include them, but you don’t need a weakness per skill or anything. Once again, quantify as much as you want)
Base location: (Where your character currently lives, and what kind of stuff is there. I recommend that you list really specific things like guns and such. You‘ll be able to loot the rest still I‘ll just assume it‘s regular household stuff. You‘ll also need a map tile from the map below)
Other: (Anything else?)
If we have too many characters to start with, I’ll decide which ones get in, based on how complete the character is, and when it was turned in. If we get a lot of interest, it would be cool it several people would be willing to ‘share’ a character and decide his/her actions by consensus. If you’d be okay with sharing your character, make a note of it in the other section (this will also be a plus for getting in).
RULES:
GM expectations:
1) Turns will only be posted if ALL players have results typed.
2) Turns will be no longer than 2 weeks, preferably one week each.
3) Listen to player concerns.
4) Make sure the game works?
5) Write some better rules.
6) Keep first posts updated.
7) Turns will be written in alphabetical order by user's name.
-unless all turns aren't in.
8 ) Mockery and derision have their place. Usually, it's on the far side of the airlock.
Player expectations
1) Players should try to get their actions in as quickly as possible (although I foresee me being slow as more of a problem)
2) Players are responsible for updating their own character/inventory sheet. After a new turn has been posted, they should adjust the inventory sheet as needed (gained/lost items, ect) and post with their next action.
3) Try to keep the game as realistic as possible. This is not RTD or MSPA.
4) Bug GM when/if he slacks off.
-The recommended amount is one harassment post per person per 8 hour period.
5) Turn posts should be in the form of [26spoiler]character sheet (adjusted for what happened previous turn)[26/spoiler]
[26spoiler]turn details[26/spoiler]
6) Avoid annoying GM TOO much.
7) OPTIONAL Don't read anyone else's turn.
Some have you have found other survivors. When you meet with another person who isn't obviously undead, you'll get this message at the end of your turn:
You found a survivor!
Trenchcoated kid
Armor: Heavy coat, cargo pants
Combat boots
Weapon: .22 Long rifle; Scoped rifle, shotgun (pump)
I recommend that you talk to them. You can either PM me or post (in a bloody spoiler!) what you'd like to say, then I'll rig up a response. For starters, ask them their names. Put any survivors you're with in a separate part of your current status sheet, with the heading Allies. Remember that these are people too, they might want to talk with you (and I might start off b conversation by them). They have their own goals (see if a loved on is alright, survive, kill zombies, or ritualistically kill themselves (or maybe you, heh heh heh)) and will try to carry them out. They won't listen to you unquestioningly, and may try to give you orders. Okay?
Inventory sheets
Unless you're doing specific searches, I'm usually pretty vague in what I tell you about. When one is smashing heads with a cricket bat, it's tough to notice stuff, no? If I mentioned that you got your gear together, then you can claim all the stuff you mentioned as being in your base. I highly recommend that you have it listed in your status as a supply dump somewhere. Or else you may end up going into combat while juggling all of your goodies. Which isn't good. If you want to add something from your dump to your on hand stuff, just change it on the status sheet (for example, moving the lighter from the supply dump to the your pockets). I do read the status updates to make sure everything is okay.
Map:
This is the city where we will be playing. It is dominated by the river (vertical line on the map). The river flows north and is considerably less straight than shown. It does a lot of twisting and turning (twice as much horizontal movement as vertical). It is not a huge river but it is not small either. There is enough space for most boats although navigation is a bit difficult. The river’s water is generally regarded as being clean, although it is a very brown (almost reddish) color. The current goes North.
The cities on the East and West sides of the river are technically different cities, with the collapse of the local governments, it doesn’t really matter. The total population (Before the apocalypse) was about 200,000. Winters are very cold, with lots of snow. It is early fall right now.
The tiles on the map are df like in nature. They are not to scale with each other. Significant bleed through may also be expected (i.e. houses in commercial area)
_ __ _ LR| _ _ _
_ _ MI HI | _ _ _
_ _ _LI LI | MR
_LC LC HC| MI MR
_MC HC MR| MC LI MR
_LC MR MC| LI ?
_HR MR MC|_ _ _ _ _
_ _ LR MR| _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ LR| _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ LR| _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _
This is the basic map, the lines in the middle is the river. The individual tiles are
First Letter: Density, Light, Medium, and Heavy.
Second Letter: Commercial, Residential, or Industry
The underscores are there for formatting, although feel free to have your character leave town. I'll just make up the terrain as it comes along.
_ _ _ _ _ _ 1 | _ _ _
_ _ __ _ 2 3 | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ 4 5 | I _ _
_ _ _ _ 6 7 8 | J L _
_ _ _ _ 9 A B | M N O
_ _ _ _ C D E | P Q _ _
_ _ _ _ R F G | _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ S H | _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ T | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ K | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ | _ _ _
This is the numbered map. The color coding should give you an idea of the city type.
City Tiles
[spoiler]
Tile) Type. Description. Point of Interest.
1) Sparse Residential. A few isolated houses as the city fades to farmland. You might be able to ‘liberate’ a horse here, I guess. Of more interest, there’s an airbase here too.
2) Medium Industrial. The location of a couple of factories and warehouses. Might there be a huge building filled with baked beans? The airport is here.
3) Heavy Industrial. The industrial heart of the city. Contains many important buildings.
4) :Light Industrial. Mostly city landfill, some stuff on the outskirts. It also has a junkyard that might have some useful . . . Junk.
5) Light Industrial. Although it’s not landfill, there’s still not a lot here. There are a couple of machine shops that have good tools. There’s also a Chinese restaurant that’s, although very small, known for having very good food.
6) Light Commercial. A couple of chain type department stores. Lots of construction occurring for more stores. Heavy machinery perhaps?
7) Light Commercial. Similar to above, although all the construction is done. Has a couple of small strip malls too. There are a few electronic stores around here.
8 ) Heavy Commercial. Downtown. Lots of apartments, churches, and stores. Also has the local government buildings. There are the main police and fire stations in this location. There is a small gun store here. I suppose that there might be remnants of the police, provided they aren’t dead.
9) Medium Commercial. Has a fair number of large stores. Notably, a very large sports store (with its own Farris wheel (!?)).
A) Heavy Commercial. Large Local Mall. Has numerous stores and is next door to a chain-type electronics store. Dead-rising anyone?
B) Medium Residential. Some of the oldest houses in the city. Medium to Upper class with some pockets of Lower-middle class. There might be survivors here.
C) Light Commercial. Another spot of expansion, doesn’t have a lot right now though. Contains a generic strip mall and a very large grocery store.
D) Medium Residential. Generic Suburbs.
E) Medium Commercial. A bit misleading. Strip malls right on the main road, houses a block away. Contains a small grocery store and has the largest local high school.
F) Medium Residential. Highly differential housing. It’s mostly lower-middle class but has a small upper class pocket that contains the biggest houses in the area.
G) Medium Commercial. Has many fast food restaurants and one department store. Low cost apartments are a bit off the main drag. If you are looking for somewhere with a bit of everything, this might be a good spot to go.
H) Medium Residential. In the northern end you have a medium-large grocery store, a gym, and a restaurant. A bit south, you have medium class housing. Not much other than possible survivors. Find a big knife at the restaurant?
I) Medium Residential. Across the river, the medium housing areas are similar, but the houses are generally smaller while the yards are bigger. There is a very large park by the river here.
J) Medium Industrial. The primary industrial area for the sub-city. Has a couple of automotive and machine spots. Supposedly, the mechanic owns a muscle car collection.
K) Light Residential. The most southern part of the city. Only a couple of nice houses by the river. Probably not even enough to be mentioned here. I wonder why it’s here? It’s out of city limits, so there are no laws against gun use. Maybe some more weapons?
L) Medium Residential. Starter homes are located here, small but well kept up. There is also the sub-city high school. Any survivors?
M) Medium Commercial. There is another shopping mall here, but it is much smaller than the one in the main city. It was only half rented when the disaster started and has always been a little creepy. The sub-city government was located in this area as well.
N) Light Industrial. A couple of warehouses and not much else. There is an office and store house for a regional mining company as well. Maybe they left some stuff?
O) Medium Residential. The nicer houses in the sub-city are located here. There is a small park in the area where the local LARP club meets.
P) Light Industrial. The edge of the sub-city. One small factory meets farm land. A nice highway goes south from here.
Q) No classification Strange spot that’s Industrial, commercial and farming all at once. There is a very large sugar-beet processing plant that is a major industry for the sub-city. The is also a medium do-it-yourself store. Sugar-Beet farms take up the rest of the space. The beets smell truly bad. The do-it-yourself place might be a good place to barricade, with all the lumber and what-not.
R) Heavy Residential. High rise apartments. Despite poor environmental conditions, someone built a bunch of ugly slums here. The most crime ridden part of the city. Called ‘our first Ghetto by some.’ There’s probably lots of contraband around here if you look for it. Lots of zombie too, I’d suppose.
S) Light Residential.
T) Light Residential. In the south you have a very unique combination. On one side of the street you have twin homes. Then you have a trailer park. Right next to the trailer park is an upper class housing development. You could try to steal a big screen TV from the rich people. Or a trailer home. There is also an elementary school in the area.
Strife cancels update: Crushing workload. I've got the SAT on Saturday, and lot's of homework and cleaning between now and and then (plus my dad's in town on leave). Directly after the SAT, I've got stuff to do in the Twin Cities, so we'll see if I can update during the drive. Of course, considering my luck, I'll be driving up there by myself, in the middle of the night, during a blizzard.
Damnit. Now I don't feel like sleeping. I'm doing my calc work, then we'll see if I get to a turn.
Characters in the game (10/5):
Username: Mission0
Character name: Mission
Nickname, that friends had used for him since he was a kid. The name stuck in the army and has had continued use for those outside of family.
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Physical Description: Roughly 6 ft, plus or minus an inch. Kinda of lanky with his legs making up the majority of his height. Dark brown hair that looks black in the shade. Not physically strong beyond a basic military training in the Army.
Life Description: Other than a High School education he has gone through sniper training in the army, however has not had any experience in the field yet so a theoretical experience is the best he has.
Skills: Played around with computers while in high school and can be called a Proficient computer user/builder. Expert Sniper usage from Army training.
Weaknesses: Has not seen any combat so gore, or violence will be intimidating.
Base location: He lives in a small house on the north side of town, one of the l1 tiles at the top. In the house he owns a pistol along with two clips of ammo to go with it. His family also lives in the house, whom he was visiting before he went on his first tour of duty.
Other: Was coming home to say his goodbyes to his family before going on his first tour of duty. Was dropped off at the airbase, and picked up by his family. Currently wearing camo, since he has just returned home and wasn't able to change back out before whatever happens in the game happens.
Character name: Luke Prowler (duh)
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Physical Description: average build, tall, rather limber, short unkempt black hair, green/hazel eyes.
Life Description: A (self proclaimed) master thief , Luke has been going through many small time jobs, when he was finally able to pull a big time heist. Then the zombie apocalypse happened. He is skilled with a knife, but he prefer to avoid fighting. At a young age, Luke was traumatized when he saw a man gunned down in the street, and has since then sworn to never wield a gun.
Skills: Competent Knife-user, Proficient lock-pick, Stealthy, Novice Electronics, Agile
Weaknesses: Refuses to use guns, rather weak.
Base location: Currently alone in a small 1 bed apartment (in tile R) that sort of doubles as a safe house. Currently inside is a basic survival kit (Flash light, first aid, rope, that kind of stuff) about a weeks worth of food and bottled water (although that leftover meatloaf looks like it's going to go bad), his gear (Including several knifes, lock-pick, a grappling gun, and inferred/night-vision goggles), 2 sets of civilian clothing and his "sneak suit", furniture, and various knickknacks.
Other: Luke is currently holding onto a very importing painting (in a tube container, not still in it's frame), and really wants to get out of the city with it. It doesn't trump his survival, but it's very close.
Character name: Rachel Larson
Gender: Female
Age: 15
Physical Description: Skinny, of average height, with brown hair and brown eyes.
Life Description: The closest Rachel ever came to death before the zombies arrived was the time she spilled hot coffee on her hand. Living downtown with her uncaring dad was the closest thing she ever had to family. and working in a local Starbucks was the closest thing she ever had done that came close to labor. Now, with the undead roaming the streets, she`s holed up in the apartment with her boyfriend and her dad. Realizing help is not likely, they`ve made the choice to try to flee the city.
Skills: Skilled Coffee Brewer, Dabbling Markswoman, Skilled Conversationalist
Traits: Clever, Persuasive, Attractive
Weaknesses: Naive, Afraid, Untrusting, Clumsy
Base location: One Apartment in Tile B
Items: .22 Rifle, Supply of Canned Food, Clothes, Cellphone, Backpack
Other: Boyfriend has a switchblade and is unstable, Dad believes the Army is coming to save them but agreed to leave, Mom died in car accident
Character name: Zedekiah Stone
Gender: Male, but he's a shape shifter so it can easily change
Age: 19
Physical Description: Natural form: Tall and a little thinner than a healthy human is. Black hair. No beard (Senon have eyebrows, the hair on the top of their heads and pubic hair and that is it. When human: Basically the same as his natural form except he is a muscular normal size and weight and has stubble.
Life Description: Fully qualified electrician despite being only just an adult in human terms and not yet an one in Senon terms. (They reach physical maturity at 25 and their brain finishes developing at 26) Has practice making explosives and using guns, the first due to paying attention in chemistry class and the second from having friends who are gun nuts.
Skills: Using DF terms, he's a professional shapeshifter, Adept electrician, competent explosive maker and user, skilled gun user and no tag medic.
Weaknesses: Stupidly heroic.
Location (Just arrived): R. in his back pack he has an arctic rated sleeping bag, 5 t-shirts and 5 pairs of underpants, 8 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of cargo pants( one woodland camo and one black), 2 hoodies (one black, one grey), several days food and water, a surgeon's kit, night vision goggles, 25 .45 cal pistol mags and basic toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shaving cream, safety razor and cut throat razor. On his person he has a black hoodie, black cargo pants (He is of course wearing underpants and a t-shirt underneath these), a kevlar vest, a pair of socks, combat boots and a belt. In his pockets he has a 2 blade pocket knife and six .45 cal pistol mags. On his belt is a H&K Mark 23, 2 flashbangs, 2 frag grenades and several pouches containing bandages and a further 3 magazines.
Other: He can turn into, amongst other things, an aluminium based humanoid lifeform, any land mammal on Earth, the four basic types of elemental and several mythological creatures.
Character name: Sofia
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Physical Description: Somewhat skinny, of average height with blonde hair and green eyes.
Life Description: Has spent the last few years drifting around, picking up some skill with a gun and learning how to pick locks and fight with her hands or anything she can swing at someone. But mainly excels with using a knife and sneaking around. She's a known criminal in some places, having used these skills of hers at multiple opportunitys.
Skills: In DF terms, Skilled gun user, Competent with blunt weapons, (No tag) Lockpicker, Competent hand to hand skills, Proficient knife user and Proficient sneak.
Weaknesses: While she can normally keep a level head she tends to get violent often, and is generaly distrusting.
Base location: An empty warehouse in the 3 tile, with a sleeping bag, an old berretta pistol and 3 magazines, a few cans of food, two gallons of water in bottles, a few bottles of random alcohol, and her butterfly knife and lockpicks. She is wearing a pair of tight jeans, a tight leather jacket, a pair of heavy boots, a leather collar around her neck and spiked gloves.
Other: Due to her remote location she may not be aware of the Zombies, she was mostly just squatting in town for a bit before moving to another one.
Character name: Mary Sue
Gender: female
Age: 30
Physical Description:
dark curly hair, dark eyes.
Life Description: She has been a model housewife for the past 6 years, prior to which she lived a sheltered life in a wealthy household. After news of the attacks reached them her family moved into their private bomb shelter to wait it out, but she didn't like it in there. The radio was picking up ever more and more desperate reports, her husband was pulling everything out of the carefully-packed cupboards, the children were hungry, the baby started crying, and she just couldn't get away. So she quieted the baby, and starting chopping some food, and then the dog threw up, and everyone complained about the smell, and the baby started crying, and they all told her to clean it up, and they they all just kept COMPLAINING. ABOUT. THE MESS! And then everything was peaceful again and she made a big meal for everyone and cleaned up all the mess and went out to get some better food. But there were plenty of tins of beans in the bunker, everyone would be fine in there for as long as she needed...
Skills:
proficient cook(competent kitchen-utensil fighting)
Accomplished knife wielding manic(only when berserk)
Proficient navigator(only shopping venues)
Proficient cleaner
Proficient driver
Weaknesses:
incapable of perceiving blood
berserker button
(don't complain about the mess
she doesn't like to talk about her family, they are just 'wonderful' and 'well' and 'quite safe'...)
claustrophobia
multiple personalities(only if more than one person plays this character)
Base location: Large suburban house with a large four-wheel-drive car.[B on the map]
Other:
possessions:
Blood soaked dress
Blood soaked knife
Nice handbag
Carkeys
$500 in cash
$20 in coins
This, very much this:
it would be cool it several people would be willing to ‘share’ a character and decide his/her actions by consensus.
Character name: Aaron
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Physical Description: A bit heavier than other people. Approx. 6' 2" tall. Brown hair and eyes.
Life Description: An prgrammer at a major company, he was the main reason the company succeeded. He was secretly hacking into the database to find files about the company records, just to "make sure" the company was using its money wisely... by not cutting his paycheck. He has little experience with weapons, but carries a pistol with him "just in case".
Skills: Expert Programmer, Competant Hacker, (No tag) Gun-User, Proficient Chef.
Weaknesses: Has terrible asthma, and has to use his inhaler anytime he gets to an high elevation.
Base location: An office building in Medium Commecial 9 tile, having his labtop, a concealed Desert Eagle pistol with a backup clip, a portable reciever (for the Internet, of course!), and his inhaler. At his HOUSE, situated in D, he has a few more clips for the Desert Eagle, food, a few extra canisters for his inhaler, water bottles (might not be full), and has a secret room where he stores his equipment (possible hiding place?)
Other: He is not fully aware of the outbreak, although he has heard "rumors", he prefers to just contiune his work. His favorite food is chocolate donuts, and will try to get some for his "last meal".
Character name: Owen Roberts
Gender: Male (Sausage fests be damned)
Age: 32
Physical Description: Tall, slightly underweight, somewhat bedraggled appearance
Life Description: Roberts served a term in the army as a spotter in a sniper team before being honorably discharged. Since that time he has been attempting, with limited success, to reintegrate into normal society.
Although he engaged in very little actual combat, the stressful experience combined with previous repressed trauma and he developed a severe mental condition near the end of his tour. This condition played a significant part in his difficulty when reintroduced to society, although he is receiving treatment and medication for his illness.
Skills: Skilled Marksman, Competent Stalker (stealth), Dabbling Cook, Novice Medic, Wood Carver (hey, everyone needs a hobby)
Weaknesses: Mentally unstable. Suffers from periodic bouts of schizophrenia (audiovisual hallucinations, seeing something that isn't there, or seeing them as things they aren't {you're scared of zombies? You have no idea what this guy thinks he's fighting}. Although he rarely hears voices in his head, he sometimes hears people talking in other areas) and amnesia (blackouts. Mysteriously appearing in locations and situations he can't remember getting to)
Base location: An apartment in the 'R' sector. Heavily cluttered with random detritus and in need of a good cleaning. Cupboard contains several cans of beans, a bag of sugar, one bag of lightly salted potato chips, and a muffin that's been there too long (bran).
Refrigerator contains half-empty pint of whole milk, leftover Chinese from yesterday (Vegetable Lo Mein and Kung Pao Chicken), five beer bottles (stout), eight eggs, and a gallon container of orange juice.
Medicine cabinet contains several pill containers, most of which are empty. One still retains enough for three doses (should be taken twice daily to contain illness. Side effects include "fuzzy" head feeling and minor loss of balance).
Assorted items include 'Zippo' lighter, unopened carton of cigarettes, large fishing knife with descaler and bottle opener, Glock 17C with maintenance kit and two magazines worth of ammunition (also, two magazines), birdwatching binoculars, fishing equipment (pole, line, sinkers, hooks, rubber worms etc.), cast iron frying pan, and bean-encrusted pot which has somehow managed to attach itself firmly to the stove.
Other: Although his mental condition is a significant hindrance under normal conditions, he also boasts an eerie capacity to avoid harm and "difficult" situations, possessing an innate knack for staying out (or getting out) of trouble. His cooking, however, is functional at best.
Character Name:Har-El Rozen
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Physical Description: Average height, lean but muscular, scarred and ragged facial features.
Life Description: Har-El is a member of the Israeli special operations institute 'Mossad' there he served for 13 years of his life including his training. After rising through the ranks Har-El's talents in individual unit tactics and competent gunning skills saw him stand out and he was seen equal to some of the very best of Mossad's elite ground troops.
A devout Jew his whole life Har-El was the son of a disgraced Mossad agent who was heavily involved in the 'Lillehammer affair'. Because his father was constantly away Har-El was raised by his mother and despite her attempts to draw him away from a life in the military her death at the hands of a Palestinian car bombing sealed his destiny. After spending long periods in boarding houses and orphanages watching as constant turmoil enveloped his home land Har-El was further detached from humanity after his father commit suicide in suspicious circumstances.
After serving time in ground operations where he learned leadership abilities as well as the compulsory weapon and hand to hand skills Har-El decided to act instead as a counter-terrorism agent overseas and after training in diplomatic and international skills Har-El was sent abroad where up until now he had spent his time gathering intelligence on terrorist activities.
Skills: Skilled "tactical" leader, Competent Automatic weapon user, competent stealth, Knife wielder, Hand to Hand fighter, Novice Diplomat.
Weaknesses: Detatched from teammates, barely any personal skills, Cannot drive, Very distrusting.
Base Location: Har-El has been provided with an apartment in the 'R' sector where his actions are hidden well enough.
Despite eating out most of the time the Har-El has some food leftovers lying around and he has an almost addiction to energy drinks.
Medical supplies inside include the basics: Bandages, painkillers and little else.
While not in his apartment inside his building Har-El has a combination controlled safety deposit box where he keeps.
A silenced Mossad .22 LRS (loaded)
Two '22 LR mags
Combat knife.
$2000
Mossad 9mm Uzi (loaded)
3 9mm mags
On his person he has; a small throwing knife, 2 cans of 'Rockstar' energy drink, Wallet with I.D, $50 in cash and $10 in change, cell phone and a sling backpack.
Other: Has a calm and almost robotic personality and although he is very distrusting of strangers he is still an honorable man who will not backstab others unless completely necessary.
Character name: Tacken Armitage.
Gender: M
Age: 28
Physical Description: Very heavily built, around 6'8. Rugged black hair, and a heavy beard.
Life Description: Hobby Blacksmith, with side jobs such as farrier and Machinery repair, as he often builds parts for farmers around his area.
Skills: Adept Metalsmith (If you want me to split it around the four, I will).
Dabbling Rifle/Longgun user.
Skilled cannon user.
Superhumanly Tough, Incredibly Mighty.
Proficient Hammerer.
Proficient Axeman.
Proficient Woodcutter.
Competent Carpenter.
Novice Swordsman, Pole-arm user and Maceman.
Knife-wielder.
Weaknesses: Running speed, Firearm Accuracy, Food&Water requirements, Sociality and Stealth.
Base location: Log cabin, with a modified forge out the back. Very low population in the area, except for a city of residents approx. 200000, 10kms(5mls?) to the northeast. In the forge are an anvil, a variety of forged swords, axes, hammers, smithing tools, A rusted scythe, A new halligan bar, and a replica 1100ad bombard, with two shots worth of gunpowder and five cannonballs. The only weapons in the shack are a Bowie knife, and a shotgun which hasn't been touched for a long, long time.
Other: He's huge.
Username: Kagus (What's the point of this, exactly? You can clearly see who we are...)
Character name: Owen Roberts
Gender: Male (Sausage fests be damned)
Age: 32
Physical Description: Tall, slightly underweight, somewhat bedraggled appearance
Life Description: Roberts served a term in the army as a spotter in a sniper team before being honorably discharged. Since that time he has been attempting, with limited success, to reintegrate into normal society.
Although he engaged in very little actual combat, the stressful experience combined with previous repressed trauma and he developed a severe mental condition near the end of his tour. This condition played a significant part in his difficulty when reintroduced to society, although he is receiving treatment and medication for his illness.
Skills: Skilled Marksman, Competent Stalker (stealth), Dabbling Cook, Novice Medic, Wood Carver (hey, everyone needs a hobby)
Weaknesses: Mentally unstable. Suffers from periodic bouts of schizophrenia (audiovisual hallucinations, seeing something that isn't there, or seeing them as things they aren't {you're scared of zombies? You have no idea what this guy thinks he's fighting}. Although he rarely hears voices in his head, he sometimes hears people talking in other areas) and amnesia (blackouts. Mysteriously appearing in locations and situations he can't remember getting to)
Base location: An apartment in the 'R' sector. Heavily cluttered with random detritus and in need of a good cleaning. Cupboard contains several cans of beans, a bag of sugar, one bag of lightly salted potato chips, and a muffin that's been there too long (bran).
Refrigerator contains half-empty pint of whole milk, leftover Chinese from yesterday (Vegetable Lo Mein and Kung Pao Chicken), five beer bottles (stout), eight eggs, and a gallon container of orange juice.
Medicine cabinet contains several pill containers, most of which are empty. One still retains enough for three doses (should be taken twice daily to contain illness. Side effects include "fuzzy" head feeling and minor loss of balance).
Assorted items include 'Zippo' lighter, unopened carton of cigarettes, large fishing knife with descaler and bottle opener, Glock 17C with maintenance kit and two magazines worth of ammunition (also, two magazines), birdwatching binoculars, fishing equipment (pole, line, sinkers, hooks, rubber worms etc.), cast iron frying pan, and bean-encrusted pot which has somehow managed to attach itself firmly to the stove.
Other: Although his mental condition is a significant hindrance under normal conditions, he also boasts an eerie capacity to avoid harm and "difficult" situations, possessing an innate knack for staying out (or getting out) of trouble. His cooking, however, is functional at best.
A couple side notes here... As is probably clear, I know absolutely bupkis about the military. Feel free to "fix" all areas regarding that at your discretion. Provided you even decide to take this character on, that is. I can see you've already got a full lineup.
Also, I'm probably missing something... If you wish for any more information regarding the character, just ask and I'll make something up.
Well, I seem to have the devil's own cold right now, so this will affect the update schedule (look on the earlier post for more). I also added some more rules. Notably, I highly recommend that you don't read other people's turns. Lends some fun suprisingness to the game when you don't know where the other eight people are. Here is turn 0.
TURN ZERO: BEEN AWHILE HASN'T IT?
User: ArchangelPlayer: Zedekiah Stone
Location: Apartment somewhere in Tile R
Wounds: Headache
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: Dry throat
Mental State: WTF mate?!
Armor: Plainclothes (T shirt and Cargo pants)
Shoes: Black Combat Boots
Weapon: None
Pockets:
Empty
Items in apartment:
Unknown.
Stone picked himself somewhat painfully off of the floor. What the fuck had happened? He heard banging and moaning coming from his locked front door. Had he blacked out for some reason? Rubbing a large bump on his forehead, Zedekiah got slowly to his feet. Other than a sore head, he was kind of thirsty. How long had he been out? The moaning and banging on his door continued. It was a pretty strong door, right?
User: Flintus10
Name: Har-El Rozen
Location: First floor apartment somewhere in R
Wounds: Headache
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: Dry throat
Mental State: WTF Mate?!
Armor: Plainclothes (Khaki pants and polo shirt)
Shoes: Tennis Shoes
Weapon: Small fixed blade knife (3 inch blade)
Pockets:
Cell phone (unknown status)
Wallet
Bunch of change
Items in Base: Unknown
Har-El Rozen was woken straight away with the yell. Somewhere relatively close by, (sounding like it was above him), someone was screaming. It sounded like a girl in mortal terror. What had happened? His hand slipped to his small knife, drawing some comfort from the full metal tang. He was lying on the floor of his apartment. Had he blocked out?
The Israeli got to his feet and shook his head to clear the cobwebs out. What was going on?
User: Humaan
Player: Aaron
Location: 3rd floor Office in 9
Health: Fine
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: Somewhat
Mental State: WTF mate?!
Armor: Suit (Dress pants, white button down shirt, green tie)
Shoes: Dress shoes
Weapon: Dessert Eagle
Loaded: 8/7 (.5)
Reserve: 7/7 (.5)
Pockets:
Wallet
Items in office:
Laptop (on desk)
Wireless internet thingy (plugged into laptop)
Laptop cord (on desk)
Suit coat
Aaron lifted his head off of his desk. Had he fallen asleep again? He remembered that he had been working late on a program for air traffic control computers. He sat up. The power seemed to be out. That was strange. It was dead silent as well, which was very strange. There was noise in the building all day, then the janitors played rock at night. Something didn’t feel right. Aaron took stock of the situation. He pulled his Eagle from the desk and checked to make sure that a round was chambered. He put the spare clip in his pocket. His office looked normal, if dark. His laptop sat on the desk in front of him, screen off. The cord and internet receiver were both plugged in, but he could see that the light on the cord was off. His suit coat was draped on the back of his chair . . .
User: Kagus (What's the point of this, exactly? You can clearly see who we are...)
Player: Owen Roberts
Location Apartment somewhere in R.
Health: Fine
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: Somewhat
Mental State: WTF mate?!
Armor: Plainclothes (Stained sweatpants and a t-shirt)
Shoes: None
Weapon: Glock 17c
Loaded: 18/17 (9 mm)
Reserve: 17/17
Pockets: Empty
Items in Base:
Unknown
Owen heard the scream, loud and clear. Before, it seemed, he was even awake, his gun was in his hand. What the fuck? Somewhere, sounding like it was only a few floors above him, a girl was screaming. He was sitting on his coach, and the second clip for his Glock was on the coffee table. He shoved it into his pocket and stood up.
User: LittlePlayer: Rachel Larson
Location: Barricaded Apartment in B
Health: Fine
Hungry: Nope.
Thirsty: Nope
Mental State: Little worn
Armor: Plainclothes (khaki pants, t-shirt, hoodie)
Shoes: Tennis Shoes
Weapon: .22 Long Rifle
Loaded: 7/7 internal
Reserve: 43 rounds, loose
Pockets:
43 rounds, .22
Items in apartment bedroom:
Various clothes
Microwave
Dishes
Supply of canned food
Cell phone (plugged in)
Allies:
Father
Armed with makeshift club
Sleeping
Boyfriend
Armed with switchblade (3 inch blade)
Rachel was worried. She had watched the city go to hell. At the order for citizens to keep inside their homes herself, her boyfriend, and her father had holed up in the apartment. Through the windows they watched a few people shamble on the streets below. Her boyfriend took up his old argument. He angrily demanded that he should be the one to carry the rifle, but Rachel wasn’t so sure. He was even getting to the point of raising his voice . . .
User: Luke Prowler
Player: Luke Prowler
Location: Apartment somewhere in R
Wounds: Healthy
Hunger: A bit
Thirsty: Somewhat
Mental State: WTF mate!?
Inventory
Armor: Black sneaking clothes.
Shoes: Black cross trainers.
Weapon: Large dagger (6 inch blade)
Special: NVG’s (around neck)
Pockets:
One set of lock picks
One multi-tool
One ballisong (five inch blade)
One pocket knife (2 inch blade)
Small mag-light
Slung around shoulder:
Painting tube (with rope tied around the ends)
*Painting
Pile in kitchen:
Grappling gun
Small first aid kit
1 case with 24 bottles of water.
14 cans of food
Assorted fridge items
1 coil of rope
2 sets of civilian clothes (black jeans, t-shirts, hooded sweatshirts)
Luke woke up to a high pitched scream. What the fuck? A girl was screaming close by. Why was he laying on the floor? Luke slowly got to his feet, rubbing a goose egg on his forehead. Judging by his sore throat, he must of blacked out for some reason. He had just been getting his kit together to get the painting out of the city. The their regarded his greatest haul ever fondly. He had rigged up a sling for it by tying some rope to each end of the tube. The screaming, he noticed, continued unabated.
User: Mission
Player: Mission
Location: Boarded up house in 1
Healthy: Fine
Hungry: Nope
Thirsty: A bit
Mental State: Kinda tired.
Armor: ACU uniform (jacket, undershirt, pants)
Shoes: ACU boots
Weapon: M1911 pistol
Loaded: 8/7
Reserve: 7/7 clip
Pockets:
Zippo Lighter
Pocket Knife
Wallet
Cell phone (off, 50% charge)
In base:
Supply of canned food
Supply of blankets
Space heater (x2)
Various other objects
Allies:
Father (aged 55)
12 gauge shotgun (shooting 4 bird)
2 +1 rounds loaded
37 rounds in pocket
Hunter’s camouflage
Mother (aged 54)
Work clothes
Sister (aged 16)
Plainclothes
Mission and his father paced around the house. They had fortified the house when the TV stations broadcasted the warning, and watched in horror as the issue became apparent. Zombies. Fucking zombies. They continued to watch the news on the one channel that still broadcasted. The newscasters there were barricaded up and fighting the hordes. The heat had gone out in the house disagreeably early. Mission’s dad had tried to fix the oil heater, but apparently a valve had broken. The females huddled in the main bedroom with space heaters. It was annoyingly brisk outside, under freezing at 0600. Mission once again considered the idea of getting to the airbase. It wasn’t more than a mile and a half away . . .
User: RAM (and anyone else, if they want to play)
Player: Mary Sue
Location: Driveway of her house in B
Health: Fine, if somewhat cold.
Hungry: Nope
Thirsty: A bit
Mental State: Okayish?
Armor: Plainclothes (bloodsoaked dress)
Shoes: None
Weapon: Bloodied chef’s knife
Handbag:
Keys
Cash
Coins
Various other stuff.
Items in Base:
Unknown
Items in driveway:
White Ford Explorer
Mary had walked from the bomb shelter where her family was patiently waiting for her back to her spotless house. She hadn’t seen anyone around. It was quite a cool morning, and deadly silent. Her Ford Explorer sat in the driveway where she had left it.
User: Sofia
Name: Sofia
Location: Abandoned Warehouse in 3
Health: Fine, if stiff
Hungry: A bit
Thirsty: Somewhat
Mental State: WTF mate?!
Armor: Leather jacket
Tight jeans
Shoes: Boots
Weapon: Spiked gloves
Pockets:
5 inch butterfly knife
Lock picks
In base (rat’s nest in abandoned warehouse)
Berretta 9mm
3 magazines for the Berretta 9mm (3 x 17/17)
Sleeping bag (unrolled)
2 gallons of water
5 cans of food
1 bottle Smirnoff Vodka (70%)
1 bottle Fetzer Chardonnay (100%)
1 bottle Jack Daniels (65%)
Sofia slowly woke up from her rest. She must have been sleeping pretty hard. Out of long habit, she checked over her little rat’s nest of possessions. Everything seemed to be in order. Then, shattering the silence, she thought she heard a low moan . . .
When making your turn, start by having a spoilered and update character sheet (there won't be any changes from the ones I've posted this turn), then have a separate spoiler with your character's turn. Feel free to have as much or as little information as you want. Turns will encompass about one hour right now. Get those actions in! I'm going to update the early posts now.
Just nitpicking here, but would it be against the rules if I changed my characters clothes? I'm not usually one to complain about clothes, but khakis? Nothing wrong with them on guys, but I have never seen a girl look good in khaki, and this is a teenage girl. Where would she even get the idea to wear khaki?
Now that my little clothing-based rant is over(sorry if I offended you or your sense of fashion), each turn accompanies an hour, so do we have to spend eight or so turns a day sleeping or we start getting less focussed? Or is sleep just handwaved once we wake up from our first nap?
Player: Rachel Larson
Location: Barricaded Apartment in B
Health: Fine
Hungry: Nope.
Thirsty: Nope
Mental State: Little worn
Armor: Plainclothes (black jeans, t-shirt, hoodie)
Shoes: Tennis Shoes
Weapon: .22 Long Rifle
Loaded: 7/7 internal
Reserve: 43 rounds, loose
Pockets:
43 rounds, .22
Items in apartment bedroom:
Various clothes
Microwave
Dishes
Supply of canned food
Cell phone (plugged in)
Allies:
Father
Armed with makeshift club
Sleeping
Boyfriend
Armed with switchblade (3 inch blade)
-Please note I am going to do my actions according to what my character would do, not according to what I think is best OoC
Tell my boyfriend to shut the hell up, as he's getting annoying. Now, zombies are roaming the streets, and since I've seen these movies, I know we need to find more people. Give my boyfriend the cellphone and tell him to start going through the phone book while I leave the apartment and check the neighboring apartments on this floor. Bring the rifle and take half the ammo with me. Keep my eyes open for a portable radio, sleeping bags, and other supplies that might be useful if we need to run for it.
User: ArchangelPlayer: Zedekiah Stone
Location: Apartment somewhere in Tile R
Wounds: Headache
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: Dry throat
Mental State: WTF mate?!
Armor: Plainclothes (T shirt and Cargo pants)
Shoes: Black Combat Boots
Weapon: None
Pockets:
Empty
Items in apartment:
Unknown.
What happened to his backpack, hoodie, belt and all his stuff?
Username: Archangel
Character name: Zedekiah Stone
Gender: Male, but he's a shape shifter so it can easily change
Age: 19
Physical Description: Natural form: Tall and a little thinner than a healthy human is. Black hair. No beard (Senon have eyebrows, the hair on the top of their heads and pubic hair and that is it. When human: Basically the same as his natural form except he is a muscular normal size and weight and has stubble.
Life Description: Fully qualified electrician despite being only just an adult in human terms and not yet an one in Senon terms. (They reach physical maturity at 25 and their brain finishes developing at 26) Has practice making explosives and using guns, the first due to paying attention in chemistry class and the second from having friends who are gun nuts.
Skills: Using DF terms, he's a professional shapeshifter, Adept electrician, competent explosive maker and user, skilled gun user and no tag medic.
Weaknesses: Stupidly heroic.
Location (Just arrived): R. in his back pack he has an arctic rated sleeping bag, 5 t-shirts and 5 pairs of underpants, 8 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of cargo pants( one woodland camo and one black), 2 hoodies (one black, one grey), several days food and water, a surgeon's kit, night vision goggles, 25 .45 cal pistol mags and basic toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shaving cream, safety razor and cut throat razor. On his person he has a black hoodie, black cargo pants (He is of course wearing underpants and a t-shirt underneath these), a kevlar vest, a pair of socks, combat boots and a belt. In his pockets he has a 2 blade pocket knife and six .45 cal pistol mags. On his belt is a H&K Mark 23, 2 flashbangs, 2 frag grenades and several pouches containing bandages and a further 3 magazines.
Other: He can turn into, amongst other things, an aluminium based humanoid lifeform, any land mammal on Earth, the four basic types of elemental and several mythological creatures.
Assuming he is a shapeshifter, go aluminium and search the apartment for his gear. Rip heads off if anything attacks him.
Obviously. Well, here's my late character sheet then, sorry.
Username: Tack
Character name: Tacken Armitage.
Gender: M
Age: 28
Physical Description: Very heavily built, around 6'8. Rugged black hair, and a heavy beard.
Life Description: Hobby Blacksmith, with side jobs such as farrier and Machinery repair, as he often builds parts for farmers around his area.
Skills: Adept Metalsmith (If you want me to split it around the four, I will).
Dabbling Rifle/Longgun user.
Skilled cannon user.
Superhumanly Tough, Incredibly Mighty.
Proficient Hammerer.
Proficient Axeman.
Proficient Woodcutter.
Competent Carpenter.
Novice Swordsman, Pole-arm user and Maceman.
Knife-wielder.
Weaknesses: Running speed, Firearm Accuracy, Food&Water requirements, Sociality and Stealth.
Base location: Log cabin, with a modified forge out the back. Very low population in the area, except for a city of residents approx. 200000, 10kms(5mls?) to the northeast. In the forge are an anvil, a variety of forged swords, axes, hammers, smithing tools, A rusted scythe, A new halligan bar, and a replica 1100ad bombard, with two shots worth of gunpowder and five cannonballs. The only weapons in the shack are a Bowie knife, and a shotgun which hasn't been touched for a long, long time.
Other: He's huge.
Player: Mission
Location: On the move in Chevy Truck
Healthy: Fine
Hungry: Nope
Thirsty: A bit
Mental State: Kinda tired.
Armor: ACU uniform (jacket, undershirt, pants)
Shoes: ACU boots
Weapon: M1911 pistol
Loaded: 8/7
Reserve: 7/7 clip
Pockets:
Zippo Lighter
Pocket Knife
Wallet
Cell phone (off, 50% charge)
In base:
Supply of canned food
Supply of blankets
Allies:
Father (aged 55)
12 gauge shotgun (shooting 4 bird)
2 +1 rounds loaded
37 rounds in pocket
Hunter’s camouflage
Mother (aged 54)
Work clothes
Sister (aged 16)
Plainclothes
Mission thinks for a moment before turning to his dad, while keeping a sharp eye out."I think we should head to the airbase, it is probably the safest place to be at in this crisis. There is also plenty of ammunition to defend ourselves as well as food and supplies."
Mission's Dad without turning away from the area he is looking, "You may be right, but I don't like the idea of traveling at this time."
Looking away from his dad to continue scanning the area Mission whispers, "True, but we can take your old truck. Once the thing gets going it can't be stopped to easily. You and I can stay in the back with the guns, so we could kill any potential Zombies that we see coming at us. Mom and Sis can sit in the cabin where it's warm. Also there aren't to many houses around here and it's mostly open area from here to the base, we should be safe as long as we don't stop moving at any time."
Dad nods as he continues to look around, "Go tell your mother and sister, and hurry. If we are going to move we need to move now."
Mission nods back as he runs into the house, eyes still scanning the area as he went.
Summary: We pack up some of our gear into the rear part of the truck just behind the seats with Mission and Dad keeping an eye out. We then head out towards the airbase with Dad and Mission in the back keeping watch for any potential zombies.
Archangel
Deciding that caution was the best idea, Zedekiah turned into an aluminum based life form. After all, what could hurt something based on metal? He then trudged off to find his stuff. He walked into the small bedroom, his handgun was sitting nicely on the dresser. His combat belt was lying next to it. Was it still full of stuff? He checked through the pockets, and happily, the grenades and magazines were in there. He snapped one of the clips into the pistol and put the belt on.
The door fell with a overly large crash. He whirled to face the living room in time to see two humanoid figures charging at him. Stone smoothly lifted his pistol and fired. Nothing happened.
“FUCK!” The aluminum based life form frantically worked the slide, getting the gun up just in time to fire into the belly of one of his assailants. All three combatants crashed into one another. Metal or not, Zedekiah couldn’t keep his balance; they all collapsed to the floor. He lost control of the gun, which, unhelpfully, skittered away.
His firearm gone, Stone fell back on his current form’s great strength. He felt teeth closing in on his arm, unable to get through his tough skin (although his clothes were probably taking a pounding). With his other hand, he reached and grabbed the offending head, tearing it off of its shoulders.
Stone scrambled to his feet, facing the other . . . Thing. It was ghastly. A human being, but decomposed? He didn’t have time to observe further, as the thing had started to charge. Stone caught it with a hard jab to the jaw, and it tumbled to the ground. After a second of searching, he found his Mark 23 and holstered it at his belt.
Har-El, being the organized sort, quickly dashed through his apartment, looking for something useful. Everything looked fine, as far as he could tell, nothing out of the ordinary. He checked his phone, the only thing that looked important was a text message (through several types of encryption) from the local Mossad section chief, telling him to observe and report, after getting all of his equipment together, as well as several terse requests for him to acknowledge. What the hell was going on?
Rozen looked out his 1st floor window. There seemed to be a few lone people walking about, but no cars. Stranger and stranger. There were a few lights on in the windows across the street. He left his apartment, locking the door behind him, and slowly, but quickly, made his way up the stairs.
Bloody tall building. He just HAD to have rented an apartment on the first of six floors, hadn’t he? He climbed two sets of stairs (putting him on the third floor landing), and paused. Except for the screaming (still above him), everything seemed to be deserted.
He heard a pause in the screaming, then it continued. There was a muffled thud from above. What now?
Not liking the situation, Aaron got his stuff together. He slipped his coat on, feeling that he had his inhaler in one of its pockets. He put all of his laptop gear in his bag, which he hadn’t noticed before. It was pretty comfortable, Targus brand, and slipped, satchel style, over his shoulder. He left his office, noticing that he had been locked in before (it was a deadbolt, with a latch on the inside and a keyhole on the outside). The building was very dark. They only kept about a third of the lights on at night, but even those were off. Had there been a power outage?
Aaron’s eye’s adjusted to the light (or lack thereof) after awhile, and he made his way down the stairs to the ground the floor. It was deserted (and dark) the whole way.
His hand shaking somewhat, Owen put the gun back down on the table. He (with somewhat stiff legs) walked into his bathroom and downed his daily meds. He stood there for a minute and smoked a cig (building policy and hygiene be damned, he was feeling shaky). The former soldier proceeded to the kitchen and started cooking some eggs. He ended up breaking the yolks, and dumped the fried eggs on a muffin. Owen complemented the hearty meal with a large glass of orange juice. Should he eat at the table or couch?
His head felt considerably clearer. The screaming finally stopped! Then it picked up again, and there was a medium-large thud from somewhere over his head . . .
“Shut the fucking hell up. You’re starting to get on my nerves.” Rachel’s voice was quiet, but quite dangerous sounding. “Here is what we are going to do. I am going to take half the bullets and go scope out this floor. We need more people on our side. YOU are going to stay here like a good boy, take the phone, and go through the phone book trying to find someone else who is alive. Kapiche?”
Rachel decided to round up, she took 22 of the remaining bullets, (21 were left in a cup in the apartment) shoved them into one of her overly tight pockets, and left the apartment. It wasn’t that big of a building, kind of stuck on the outskirts of a nicer neighborhood. There were 12 doors on the floor. One was the elevator and one led to the stairs. Then one lead back to her apartment.
She picked the closest door, listened for a second, and turned the handle. It was locked. Rachel moved to the next door down the line, and tried the door. It was also locked. Getting somewhat flustered, she moved to a third door. Locked. The only bloody door on the floor that wasn’t locked opened up to a broom closet, filled with assorted cleaning products.
“Well, that was useful.”
“Son of a fucking seventeen and a half legged shiza muffin!” His verve vented, Luke proceeded to go be a hero. He put down some of his less useful stuff, drew his dagger (a comfortingly heavy weight) and went to go see what the noise was about.
He opened his door quietly. There were a fair number of doors on this floor (the top one of the building). It was pretty obvious where the screaming was coming from. The door across the hallway, three doors to the left had been violently bashed down. Luke ran to the doorway and looked inside.
The hysterical dame was lying on the floor, screaming. Approaching her slowly, were two imposing dudes, backs turned to Luke.
“Hey, fuckers, leave her alone.” Luke said with a somewhat raised voice.
The girl stopped screaming, but neither of her attackers made any response. Luke strode up (easily being faster than him) behind one of them and put his hand on the idiot’s shoulder to spin him around and punch and/or stab his face.
“I’m talking to you, you sonofa . . . What the?!”
When Luke grabbed the guy’s shoulder, he ended up with a handful of . . . Something? What the fuck? Is this flesh?
Luke’s opponent turned around. It wasn’t human, with a half rotted face. Stabbing and shoving in one motion, Luke sent the thing sprawling. It made a large thump when it hit, but it started to get up, despite the hole in its chest. The other one, which Luke could now see as being rotted as well, started moving towards the girl again, at a much faster rate.
What would Luke do?
The family got everything into the truck and piled on. Mission’s mother would do the driving, while his sister would get to ride shotgun (sans shotgun). The weaponry would come from the men. As they were starting out, a thought occurred to Mission, the base’s gate was a bit further away from them than the perimeter, they could drive to the gate (which might be difficult to get through if there wasn’t anybody there, Mission remembered there being a few lines of Hogs in the area), or they could go straight to the perimeter (which was, if Mission recalled, at least two lines of fences that were eight footers with barbed tops).
On the brighter note, once they were outside, Mission couldn’t see anything moving. No zeds close by. Or visible ones anyway . . .
Mary unlocked her Ford with the auto-start, got inside, and turned the key. It rumbled for a second, but something beeped and the engine stopped. Sue got out and walked around the vehicle. The fuel cap was off? That’s strange, isn’t it? It was one of type that’s attached with cable, so she screwed it back in and closed the little door. She started the engine successfully and drove towards the mall, covering a few blocks, when the “LOW FUEL LIGHT!” blinked on, along with another beep . . .
Deciding that she should check it out, and hoping for an easy mark, Sofia loaded her Berretta and worked the slide quietly. She crept closer to the source of the noise. A hanging light provided adequate illumination. With dawning horror, she realized that she wasn’t looking at a man. There was no left arm, most of the right leg was missing, and the clothes were shredded, what remained was liberally coated in dried gore. Sofia took a half unconscious step backward, and her foot awkwardly came down on a loose beer can, but she stopped herself before it made any noise.
User: Tack
Player: Tacken Armitage
Location: Log cabin about five miles south of tile K
Health: Robust
Hunger: A bit
Thirsty: A bit
Mental State: Just waking up
Armor: Heavy flannel jacket
Clothes: Carpenter’s pants, long sleeve shirt
Hat: Fur w/ flaps
Shoes: Hiking boots
Weapon: None.
Pockets:
Books of matches
Pocket Knife
Wallet
Tacken woke up at his accustomed time. It was starting to get chilly, a bit earlier than usual too. His garden had already been obliterated by frost (dern global warming). He was feeling a bit isolated, the one TV station he got had suddenly gone off of the air a few days ago, and hadn’t come back on. He also hadn’t heard anything from his neighbors (who all lived a fair ways away). Of course, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, the farmers didn’t have much repair work to do this time of year anyway.
User: Tack
Player: Tacken Armitage
Location: Log cabin about five miles south of tile K
Health: Robust
Hunger: None
Thirst: None
Mental State: Just waking up
Armor: Heavy flannel jacket, Anorak.
Clothes: Carpenter’s pants, long sleeve shirt
Hat: Fur w/ flaps
Shoes: Hiking boots
Weapon: Woodcutter's axe.
Hatchet (in belt)
Pockets:
Books of matches
Pocket Knife
Wallet
As per usual, of the morning routine, Taken has breakfast, then picks up his Hatchet from inside the door, threading it into his belt, and, taking his tree choppin' axe, walks outside to cut the day's firewood.
Username:RAM, tehstefan{plus whoever else wants in}
Player: Mary Sue
Location: A few blocks towards the mall from her house in B
Health: Fine, if somewhat cold.
Hungry: Nope
Thirsty: A bit
Mental State: calm
Armor: Plainclothes (bloodsoaked dress)
Shoes: None
Weapon: Bloodied chef’s knife
Handbag:
Keys
Cash
Coins
Various other stuff.
Items in Base:
Unknown
Items nearby:
White Ford Explorer(Fuel low)
previous turn (http://www.bay12games.com/forum/index.php?topic=43463.msg821686#msg821686)
Mary unlocked her Ford with the auto-start, got inside, and turned the key. It rumbled for a second, but something beeped and the engine stopped. Sue got out and walked around the vehicle. The fuel cap was off? That’s strange, isn’t it? It was one of type that’s attached with cable, so she screwed it back in and closed the little door. She started the engine successfully and drove towards the mall, covering a few blocks, when the “LOW FUEL LIGHT!” blinked on, along with another beep . . .
Mary stops the car and looks around, she then goes to a nearby house with a car to ask if anyone is willing to help her get some fuel.
Player: Zedekiah Stone
Location: Apartment somewhere in Tile R
Wounds: Headache
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: N/A currently
Mental State: Calm
Armor: Plainclothes (T shirt and Cargo pants)
Shoes: Black Combat Boots
Weapon: H&K Mark 23 (12 shots left)
Pockets:
2 blade pocket knife and six .45 cal pistol mags
Belt:
2 flashbangs, 2 frag grenades and several pouches containing bandages and 2 magazines
Items in apartment:
Backpack: arctic rated sleeping bag, 5 t-shirts and 5 pairs of underpants, 8 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of cargo pants( one woodland camo and one black), 2 hoodies (one black, one grey), several days food and water, a surgeon's kit, night vision goggles, 25 .45 cal pistol mags, mp3 player and basic toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shaving cream, safety razor and cut throat razor.
Examine the bodies, put on my hoodie, pick up my pack, grab something to eat and get ready to leave.
Anyway, don't try to beat me out of here. And I hope you get well.
Player: Michael
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Physical: Caucasian with Black Hair, Average height, Average weight.
Life: Some Gun Nut, pretty good at shooting animals. Worked as a Mechanic for low wage. Tried out boxing.
Skills: Fine Marksman, Able to fix a car. Somewhat fine at Melee.
Weaknesses: Loner, never bothered learning Biking, Motorcycling, and ATV Riding.
Health: Legs sore for having to walk home.
Location: Apartment, One Gun Locker with Modified FN FAL Para Semi Auto bought off Internet, Firearms license on top of it, few Clips (5.56mm NATO?). various Camo clothing for hunting in closet. Kitchen, Living Room with Large Couch and TV.
Wearing: Blue Jeans, Tan vest over white shirt, Bandanna. (In the style of how Solid Snake wears his)
Other: Recently had a Vehicle stolen. Usually calm and collected nature. Daring.
Mental State: Completely Sane and Calm.
Archangel
Zedekiah used Curse! Zedekiah has lost 2 pp from the move “Work Slide!”
Zedekiah needed to know what he was fighting. They seemed to be human, at least at one time. However, their clothes were in tatters, and they both had grievous injuries (other than the ones afflicted by himself). He also noticed that the one he had punched was still moving. Stone resigned to finish her off. Continently, she had an easily graspable ponytail. Zedekiah grabbed the hair with one hand and a shoulder with the other; he pulled. The hair came off in his hand while blood started flowing from her scalp (noticing it, there was blood everywhere. Damn). He grabbed the creature’s head again and removed it properly.
Stone left the bodies in the bedroom and stood up. He heard three quick gunshots, followed by two more. They sounded about middling distance away, although he wasn’t sure of anything more than the general direction. He got all of his supplies together on his kitchen table, then thought about what his next course of action.
Current time: 0645
“Guess I’ll keep going.” Har-El kept going. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, listening all the way. He climbed another floor, he was between the fifth and sixth floors now, the screams were apparently on the top floor (figures). Rozen heard a yell and a very loud crack. It sounded a lot like broken bones, actually. He sped up a bit. “Only a few stair to go now.”
Rozen suddenly heard foot steps behind him, coming up pretty quickly. He considered hiding, but that wasn’t much of an option in an enclosed stairwell. A relatively young chap was coming up from below, he was wearing sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. More importantly though, he was carrying a firearm. Rozen’s keen eye recognized it as a Glock 17, and the youth looked like he could use it. Rozen looked at him, he looked at Rozen. Rozen said, “I’ll lead.”
Har-El wasn’t the happiest about having someone he didn’t know behind him, but he realized that the one without the gun should go first. They both moved quickly, Har-El guessed that his partner’s earlier stomping would have killed stealth off anyway. They ascended the final stairs and got to the sixth floor.
It wasn’t hard to find to appartment they were looking for, the door had been bashed down. There was a loud shout underneath the screaming. The two closed with the door. The screaming abruptly cut out, replaced by a horrifying gurgle. Har-El got to the far side of the door, the gunman stood by at the other.
Rozen raised his hand with one finger. He moved up a second. Three. Rozen burst through the doorway and encountered a terrifying scene. There were four figures. Two further away, and two closer. He focused on the nearer pair. Two bodies were lying on top of each other, it looked like the guy on the bottom was desperately keeping the other’s head away. The bottom combatant let out a cry for help.
Har-El dashed in and grabbed the attacker’s shoulder, while Rozen himself started to roll. He felt flesh come off in his hand? By God’s name?! Har-El and the thing rolled; he brought his knife across the thing’s throat, as he intended, and felt a spray of blood. He disengaged himself and rolled away.
The man he had saved shouted, “NO! WAIT!” and dove at the body. He was holding a pretty big knife and brought it viciously down into the thing’s eye socket. It thrashed, then went still.
Rozen looked up to see another person stumbling towards him. The gunman, standing in the doorway, shouted, “STOP!” then opened fire. It was a three round burst, and Har-El saw blood fly out of the standing person’s chest. It stopped, then started moving towards the gunman. What the hell?
Two more shots rang out, and Har-El watched the back of its head explode. Brain, blood, and bone spattered the back wall. The three survivors slowly got up.
Rozen found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (including on himself). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gaping hole. The second body was lying at his feet, it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from Rozen’s knife, and his eye had been stabbed out by the guy on the floor, who had removed the dagger. The final body in the space between Rozen and the gunman (still standing roughly in the doorway). It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head, Gunman’s pistol had blown away most of the back of the skull. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What the fuck just happened?
Rozen has found a survivor!
Gunman
Armor: Plainclothes (sweatpants and t-shirt)
Barefooted
Weapon: Glock 17
Rozen has found a survivor!
Dagger dude
Armor: Plainclothes (black shirt and sweatpants)
Cross trainers
Weapon: Large Dagger (6 inch blade)
Current Time: 0630
The lobby of Extrech (his company) was unoccupied. A quick glance at the receptionist’s computer confirmed that the power was out in the building. Aaron found the front door (big glass affairs, something he had argued against, the bloody things had been damned expensive, and not that strong) without much trouble. The outside streetlights were still on, and they provided enough light through the windows and doors. The security system was off (although Aaron did have a key to bypass it). Must be the power? He pushed the bar and went outside.
Once again, the lack of cars on the road creeped him out, as did the people. Why were people walking around a commercial district this time of the day? He counted about seven in the area, standing still or walking alone. They weren’t moving with much purpose.
He looked down. He was standing in a pool of blood. His heart started beating faster. There was blood all over the area. Smears and droplets. A fair bit had pooled where he was standing . . .
Owen got up and retrieved his gun. He wasn’t going to let violence fester. He heard a loud crack and decided to act. He got up, left, and quickly moved to the stairwell. The screaming continued. He climbed to the fifth floor. It sounded like it was from the sixth. He got halfway up the staircase when he met a Middle-Eastern looking guy. He looked middle-aged, but toned. His eyes looked like a soldier’s. The Middle-Easterner had a small knife but nothing else. However, he had something to say, in slightly accented English, “I’ll lead.”
Owen decided that it was better to have him in front rather than behind, so he made no argument. The two quickly climbed the last stairs to the sixth floor. There was one door that had apparently been broken down. The screaming was replaced by a horrible gurgle. Owen felt his heart in his ears, and his adrenaline pumping. The Middle-easterner went to the further side of the door, and held up a finger.
1.
2.
3!
Owen was in second, surveying a terrifying scene. His aquaintence was moving and grabbing someone who was on the floor, on top of someone else. He rolled around for a second. Blood sprayed from a throat wound.
Owen’s eyes were drawn by another figure getting up. It was by the back wall, standing over another body. Owen saw that the figure was covered in blood, and the body was missing it’s throat. Owen saw red. The figure started moving towards the Middle-Easterner. Owen shouted, “STOP!” Before he was even done with the shout, he was in a parallel stance (strange, a part of him remarked, he usually preferred Weber), and shooting. Just like he was trained to, Owen put a three round burst into the figure’s center mass. It stopped. And stood there? It turned and started moving towards the stunned soldier. Owen brought his gun hand up and fired twice more. Thank God for training.
(Strife’s note: even if one has been shot mortally with a handgun, one still has at least 30 seconds of effective life left, it’s normal procedure to switch to a headshot if a target still moves after mass shots)
The back wall of the room was spattered with blood, bone, and brain. The figure went down.
Owen found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (although only a small bit on himself). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gapping hole. The second body was lying at his partner‘s feet (the Middle Easterner had gotten up at some point in time), it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from the ME’s knife, and a big ass dagger was through the eye socket, being removed by another guy (who must have been on the floor fighting the old man). The final body in the space between Owen and the other two. It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head, his pistol had blown away most of the back of the skull. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What the fuck just happened?
Owen found a survivor!
Middle Easterner
Armor: Plainclothes (kahki pants and polo)
Tennis Shoes
Small knife
Owen found a survivor!
Guy in black
Armor Plainclothes (black sweatpants and t-shirt)
Cross-trainers
Large dagger
Current time: 0630
Rachel returned to the apartment and gave her sweetie a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, but we’re all getting a bit on edge.”
He had gotten through a few pages of residential, but half had gotten back voicemails or nothing and the other half *couldn’t be completed as dialed.* They decided to check the other floors.
However, before they went, her boyfriend, on a surprisingly smart hunch, went to the broom closet and got himself a wooden broom. He took the head off and hefted the weapon. “It works as a staff, I guess. I’ll go first.”
The apartment was pretty old fashioned. The stairs were spiralish and open. The pair crept down a level. On the end of the hallway, they saw a figure standing. It was hunched over and staring into space. It didn’t look like another human. It hadn’t noticed them yet. Her boyfriend whispered “What do we want to do? I’m not sure we want to be loud . . .”
Current time: 0630
Ohcrapzombiesohcrapzombiesohcrapzombies!!!!! He wouldn’t be able to reach the zombie before it reached the girl. In what was either generous or really stupid, his right foot reached out, and Luke round housed a zombie. The surprisingly hard kick connected with about the sternum area. There was a very loud (even over the screaming) crack of breaking bones. Which didn’t really do much to the zombie. It did, however, turn from the girl to Luke.
“This is it,” he thought. The two faced off for a second. Luke tried to swing his knife around and slam it into the side of the zombie’s head, and it hit. However, piercing skull with a knife isn’t easy, and it deflected away, although it took a large chunk of skin with it. Blood started flowing, and Luke could see bone. Then the zombie ran into him and the fight went to the floor.
Luke wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but the zombie was on top of him, blood flowing in a sheet from the head wound. Somehow, Luke had gotten his knife up in time. The zombie’s throat was on the neck of his blade. He was pushing with both of his arms (one hand on either side of his knife), trying to keep the zombie’s slavering jaws away from his face. He released a ‘grah’ of frustration. Was this the end?
Suddenly, the zombie was off of him, moving to his right. What the hell? He got a glimpse of kahki colored pants, as someone must have pulled the zombie off of him, saving his life. His savior had also cut the zombie’s throat and was lying nearby, unaware that he hadn’t finished the zed off. “NO! Wait!”
Luke got to his knees, raised his dagger, and slammed it into the undead’s eye before it could attack the other man. Luke pulled the dagger out with some difficulty. He was interrupted by three gunshots. He looked up in time to see a figure in the doorway shooting at the other zombie. And in time to watch a headshot blow away the back half of the zombie’s head and spatter the back hallway with blood, bone, and brain.
Luke found himself in the living room of an apartment not unlike his own. Blood was everywhere (his face and upper body were close to drenched). There was the body of a middle aged girl on the back wall, her throat had been ripped out. Blood still spurted weakly from the gapping hole. The second body was lying at his feet, it had been a relatively old man. His throat had a slash through it from the other guy’s knife, and the eye socket was a bloody hole. The final body was in the space between Luke and the gunman. It was pretty badly beaten up, the biggest wound (obviously) was the bullet wound to the head. Besides that, there were large chunks of leg missing (who had done that?), a nasty looking scratch on the lower abdomen, and three center-mass bullet holes. What. The. Fuck.
Luke has found a survivor!
Savior guy
Armor: Plainclothes (khaki pants and polo shit)
Tennis Shoes
Weapon: Small fixed blade knife
Luke has found a survivor!
Gunman
Armor: Plainclothes (sweatpants and t-shirt)
Barefooted
Weapon: Handgun
Current time: 0630
The pickup thundered to life and they were off. Mission and his father looked around, unable to see any zombies. Mother drove them to the entrance of the base. It was surprisingly durable for a base in a Midwestern city. There were hedgehogs in several areas (forcing vehicles to slow down and go around). The checkpoint was a double sided affair, with cheerfully orange stopping arms. The out-side one was chained into the up position. The in-side one was down. There was a relatively open building, where the guards had stood when Mission had been here before. It was deserted now.
There were a dozen or so buildings that Mission could see from the gate, ranging in size from tiny to hangars. Then, on the roof of one of the closest buildings, a figure stood up and started frantically waving his arms. Mission pointed him (?) out to his father . . .
Current time: 0630
She was still in a suburbanish neighborhood where she felt comfortable, so she stopped the car, turned it off, and got out. Strange how no one else was around. Mary walked to the front door of the nearest house and rang the doorbell. She could barely hear it outside, but it was there.
GROAN. Surprised, Mary jumped a little. Looking over, there was someone in the bushes next to her! It was a little girl lying there somewhat awkwardly . . .
Current time: 0630
Tacken spent his normal two hours chopping wood. He got enough for the day, plus some extra. His muscles were tired, but it was the good kind, you know? It was mostly birch, with some oak, from the forest he owned. He was feeling kind of hungry, come to think of it.
Current time: 0830
Talking, it's a free action.
Some have you have found other survivors. When you meet with another person who isn't obviously undead, you'll get this message at the end of your turn:
You found a survivor!
Trenchcoated kid
Armor: Heavy coat, cargo pants
Combat boots
Weapon: .22 Long rifle; Scoped rifle, shotgun (pump)
I recommend that you talk to them. You can either PM me or post (in a bloody spoiler!) what you'd like to say, then I'll rig up a response. For starters, ask them their names. Put any survivors you're with in a separate part of your current status sheet, with the heading Allies. Remember that these are people too, they might want to talk with you (and I might start off b conversation by them). They have their own goals (see if a loved on is alright, survive, kill zombies, or ritualistically kill themselves (or maybe you, heh heh heh)) and will try to carry them out. They won't listen to you unquestioningly, and may try to give you orders. Okay?
Inventory sheets
Unless you're doing specific searches, I'm usually pretty vague in what I tell you about. When one is smashing heads with a cricket bat, it's tough to notice stuff, no? If I mentioned that you got your gear together, then you can claim all the stuff you mentioned as being in your base. I highly recommend that you have it listed in your status as a supply dump somewhere. Or else you may end up going into combat while juggling all of your goodies. Which isn't good. If you want to add something from your dump to your on hand stuff, just change it on the status sheet (for example, moving the lighter from the supply dump to the your pockets). I do read the status updates to make sure everything is okay.
Both of these have been moved to an earlier post, as well as the harassment guidelines.
Player: Rachel Larson
Location: On Stairwell in Apartment Building in B
Health: Fine
Hungry: Nope.
Thirsty: Nope
Mental State: Little worn
Armor: Plainclothes (tight black jeans, t-shirt, hoodie)
Shoes: Tennis Shoes
Weapon: .22 Long Rifle
Loaded: 7/7 internal
Reserve: 21 rounds, loose
Pockets:
22 rounds, .22
Items in apartment bedroom:
Various clothes
Microwave
Dishes
Supply of canned food
Cell phone (plugged in)
21 rounds(in cup), .22
Allies:
Father
Armed with makeshift club
Sleeping
Boyfriend
Armed with Broomhandle
Armed with switchblade (3 inch blade)
-Yell, "Hey, motherfucker! You alive?"
((Assuming there's no response or man is hostile, do following.))
-Tell boyfriend to get out his knife and keep the staff handy
-Aim the rifle
-Steady my hands
-Center the man's back in my sights since the back would be the easiest place to hit
-Fire
((If the man is human,do following))
-Lead him back to apartment, keeping the rifle trained on him
-Get boyfriend to stay guard
((Assuming kill is successful))
-Head down and check he's dead
-Search apartments on this floor then head back to base
Player: Zedekiah Stone
Location: Apartment somewhere in Tile R
Wounds: Headache
Hunger: A bit
Thirst: N/A currently
Mental State: Calm but starting to feel paranoid
Armor: Plainclothes (hoodie, T shirt and Cargo pants), kevlar vest
Shoes: Black Combat Boots
Weapon: H&K Mark 23 (12 shots left)
Pockets:
2 blade pocket knife and six .45 cal pistol mags
Belt:
2 flashbangs, 2 frag grenades and several pouches containing bandages and 2 magazines
Back pack: arctic rated sleeping bag, 5 t-shirts and 5 pairs of underpants, 8 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of cargo pants( one woodland camo and one black), 2 hoodies (one black, one grey), several days food and water, a surgeon's kit, night vision goggles, 25 .45 cal pistol mags, mp3 player and basic toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shaving cream, safety razor and cut throat razor.
Items in apartment:
Put on the vest and pack then change to human, ready the pistol and cautiously head in the direction the gunfire came from on the assumption that anyone able to use a gun is unlikely to be one of the zombies, but might shoot first, decide if the target was hostile when it stops moving. From now on, SOP is to move cautiously and shoot anything that moves suddenly or looks like a zed. Put the NVGs in a easily accessible pocket, just in case.
