Bay 12 Games Forum
Finally... => Forum Games and Roleplaying => Topic started by: Ghazkull on August 12, 2010, 03:21:54 pm
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So close...
so close...
dammit
you were so close to it and finally they've got you. You killed every single one of them but you were not careful enough...
With your arm bleeding you lean against the wooden gate of your secure haven. You are completely exhausted. Nearly half an hour you trie to escape them on the way back home.
Not careful enough...
The thought is pulsing through your head again and again, creating horrible headache and sweeping any coherent thought away. You don't even try and be happy about the medicine and the full car battery you salvaged out of that destroyed truck.
Dammit. Not careful enough. not...
You cry out in anguish as a bolt of pain is ripping through your mind. You fall down to your knees and breath heavily. Sweat is running down your brow and you feel how your hair is sticking into your face.
Completely exhausted you heave yourself back up and begin to fiddle on the number lock which is holding the heavy iron bar in place.
Concentrate...1-8-3...1-8-3...like your birthday...1-8-3
your hands are shivering horribly and make it een harder for you to enter the damned code.
Finally you hear the satisfiying click and stumble inwards leaving the gate open. Inside the walls you can hear the groaning of a cow in the paddock you had made yourself. Everything here you have made from scratch. You felled a whole clearing into the forest to build the wooden wall, the shack for the animals and the paddock for you two cows.But the whole thing was build around the really interesting thing here. The steel door embedded into the mountainside right in front of you. An old abandoned bunker. Your home, your shelter and propably now your grave...
Your eyes lose focus but you manage to stumble towards the door before falling down and blacking out.
Light burns through your closed eyes...
so...bright...wait...bright?
in an instant you shoot up into a sitting position. How long have you slept? it's early in the morning as you see from the sun shining in your face. BUt you arrived at nightfall...
The Gate!
you jump to your feet and run towards the gate which is still open. Clutching you axe you carefully look around. But nobody seems to be there. The grip of the wooden handle feels warm against you skin.
Your trusty axe. It has always been loyal to you. the many marks you carved into it for felled enemies proof it. You initially bought it on some medieval fair out of a drunken whim. You never thought you would take it from the wall of your room to kill...those...things. in the weeks of waiting and hiding you engraved a some quite amazing looking runes into it.
You rip your thoughts from your axe and concentrate back on the task at hand. With seemingly nobody around you close the gate. Although you have done nearly nothing, your already exhausted.
You lean against the closed gate and slowly slide down into a sitting position. The headache is growing again. Suddenly you fee sick and throw up. Not much coming out. no wonder, your main diet was some milk and the few eggs you got from your hens...
You know that you were bitten, and you know what is going to happen.
A loud sigh erupting from your mouths turns into a pressed sob. You fight back the tears. Forcing yourself to stay calm you roll up your sleeves to loock at the wound. Its still bleeding.
Out of a crazed whim you begin to calculate. in your current condition you have approximately three hours till you begin to turn.
So what am i going to do...?
OOC:
Well i hope the intro wasnt to boring or Lengthy
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Examine our home/bunker for anything of value.
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Write an account of the events occurring up to when I was bitten, for somebody to hopefully find in the distant future.
(That is, if there is a writing utensil within reach)
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Write an account of the events occurring up to when I was bitten, for somebody to hopefully find in the distant future.
(That is, if there is a writing utensil within reach)
This.
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You feel horribly weak, you breath is getting shallower and shallower. But somehow you muster the energies to stand up.
Must stay awake. Remember...Remember...i need to write something down
The thought clings clearly in your head and you stumble towards the door of the bunker. With much effort you open the door and stumble inside. You stumble past your sleeping room, the kitchen into the "library", which is actually a storage room you filled with books you found. It is basically a blank room filled with several bookshelves and an old table you found in one of the other rooms. On the wooden table in the room you find a much-used yellowed book: your diary. As always before you write something down you open the book at a random page and begin to read the entry there:
diary entry 2.3.2009 day 50 since my first sighting
reached the ammunitions depottoday, it was completely abandoned apart for some zeds. The Army has taken much of the ammunition and of the valuable stuff. However they left much of their medical supplies and the food, going to scavenge it with Björn and Charlie today...
Sorrow wells up in you as you read the names of your two companions. Björn was killed by an insane hermit, while Sebastian went off to try and find the rumoured secure goverment maintained zone...you never came to know what happened to him...
You shake your head and try not to lose yourself in too sentimental feelings.
diary entry 20.4.2010 1 year 49 days since first sighting
Was bitten today. This is propably my last entry. Well and i am the last, or at least i think so. Everybody died or tried to find the goverment controlled zone. I was always too proud to join one of the other groups...Well after this incident i think i should have shat on my pride and followed them, would have been far more secure. Well no i can write here my famous last words, is that right? something like:
those who shed my blood with me today, does will be my brothers!
But this is not fitting my character. Actually the only quote i currently can remember is:
the cake is a lie!
Which is propably the dumbest thing one can actually write as his lasts words...
Well lets try it with this:
Dear Tomb Raider, you are the lucky winner of this diary. Its yours now! It has many great uses the most important one being probably that it burns quite well.
satisfied with your morbid entry you lean back in your chair and cross the arms behind your head.
Yep thats fitting. I wouldnt be surprised if the guy who finds it doesnt even read a bit of it. imbecile savages...
Suddenly you feel sick again and your stomach begins grumbling. Seems it is time for the last meal.
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gained 1 hour till turning.
currently 3 hours remaining
hungry
bite wound on left arm(bleeding)
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What kind of xombi survivalist are you?! you should've lopped off the arm after you were in the clear! but NoOo you had to run and hide and hope your lucky... dumbass, anyway
Find some of your food, possibly some booze if you got any left, go grab a chicken if you can spare it (incase you DONT die) and butcher it, you could use the meat.
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Find something to eat. Something NOT related to meat or brains in any way. Like crackers or some bread. BUT NO MEAT.
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but... meat good...
but still get some booze if there is any
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Have a last meal and then leave the safe house. Kill yourself.
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Wash and bandage your wound. We might somehow not turn.
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At the very least make sure we go outside, we don't want to kill the cows and hens if we do.
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Wouldn't it be better to let the cows and hens out, then? I mean, there's a large chance of them being zombified, but if we turn, then they'll just be stuck in the bunker and eventually starve/dehydrate.
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It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.
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Do we have a water source in our fort?
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It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.
What, are you kidding? Chickens are Satan. Cull them all now. The last thing you want is zombie chickens.
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It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.
Then why does Spain have the Running of the Bulls? Cows can run just fine.
Recite some random mental pattern, maybe it will delay zombification.
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It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.
Then why does Spain have the Running of the Bulls? Cows can run just fine.
You're right. Though I still highly doubt they'll be able to survive the hordes and various desperate remaining living wildlife.
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It won't really matter. Chickens won't likely survive more then a month in the wild, not including the zombies in the equation. And cows can't run, and they're also gigantic targets. They're basically guaranteed to die either way.
Then why does Spain have the Running of the Bulls? Cows can run just fine.
You're right. Though I still highly doubt they'll be able to survive the hordes and various desperate remaining living wildlife.
Hey, maybe they'll wander onto that secure government maintained zone, and be taken in and become the first of the genetically engineered supercows of tomorrow. ::)
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Your mind explodes with a dozens of different ideas.
make an end to it!
clean your wounds!
release the animals!
Eat and kill them!
The hedache horribly intensifies and you cry out in pain. Every try to concentrate fails and you vomit again. You grab your axe and use it as a cane to stand up. You stand there for a while till you think you can stand alone.
Ok calm down...search something to concentrate.
slowly you begin to recite the engraved runes you yourself have put there.
ek veit einn,at aldri deyr: dómr of dauðan hvern.
It is an old verse of the Hávamál, a codex for those with belief in the old gods. Honestly you have always been atheist but you were always fascinated by the old nordic belief. You never thought that you would ever follow the rituals and statues of it. At least before the Outbreak. After that and mainly in the time you were alone, you began to follow it's rules and even began praying and sacrificing. Not because you believed in it, but to bring order back to your life. Time had become meaningless, your friends and family were gone, your well ordered every day life had gone and everything sank into chaos. The prayers and rituals kept your mind clear and helped in the many lonely hours and days. Also it was a bit of a measurement of time to not loose yourself in the chaos and destruction.
ek veit einn,at aldri deyr: dómr of dauðan hvern.
i know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead man.
you repeat it over and over and finally, your mind beins to clear.
OK clean that wound and bandage it
You go to the bathroom of the bunker, and open the tap. You begin to wash your hands and the wound, cleaning the dirt and the spittle of the infected out of it, it hurts horribly but you have to do it. After that you grab some bandages and walk depper into the bunker. You stop in front of a massive open steel door. Your storage room. As you enter it, you cant surpress a grin. Although the food was gone or spoiled, alcohol was always fresh. And ove the last year you have found much alcohol. You randomly grab an old bottle of whisky ,you got from the basement of some old mansion, and walk back into the bathroom. You casually read the label while opening the bottle:
Dalmore 1943.
Meh. You grit your teeth and poor the bottle over the wound. The Pain is nearly unbearable, but you are sure that the wound is clean now. After bandaging your arm you feel cleaner but not really better. You decide that its now really time for something to eat. The old Canteen of the bunker had everything you could possibl ever need to cook. The refrigirator is even working. You rummage through your supplies and end up with two eggs, an already hardened half loaf of bread and something your saved for a special occasion: an apple.
Your hunger gets ravenous and you dont even bother with cooking the eggs. you break them open and swallow them raw. Although it tastes horrible you dont even stop, you continue to rip the loaf apart and gnaw on the hard bread. Suddenly you stop.
What the hell am i doing?
You begin to mumble your mantra again and again to stop the urge of swallowing the apple in one bite.
i know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead man.
i know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead man.
i know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead man.
You manage to bring the urge under control and rummage through the kitchen drawers to find a knife. As slowly as possible, to prevent the shaking of your hand, you begin to slice the apple into bite-sized pieces. You take the time and grab a dish, put the apple pieces on it and go outside. You sit on your favourite place. a wooden tabl you hav emade yourself and an old tree trunk you use as a chair. While the sun is shining down on you, you take the time and slowly savor every piece of it. Although the urge to only gulp it down and continue with some of your animals is pusling through your mind you surpress it with the sweet taste of the pieces, the juice running down your throat and the fresh air of the wood. Susprisingly your beaviour makes you feel far better.Having eate you lean back and stare into the blue sky. It seems so blue and so clear although you are going to...
You shake your head and stand up. You know you cant stay inside here. You think of releasing the animals but at a second thought you realize that they will either starve or be eaten by the infected.
Well inside here they will surely starve...
you open the shack, the paddock and walk out of the main gate.standing outside your unsure on what to do...
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gained and lost a hour through eating
gained mantra!( will keep your head clear and helps concentrating to a certain point)
bandaged wound on left arm
2 hours remaining
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Find a gun.
Just in case we... Well, you know.
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1. Find some kind of paint.
2. Remove your Clothing.
3. Write "Suck it!" and an arrow pointing towards your groin on your chest with the paint.
4. Be an asshole and put on a helm or something similar to make you pretty invincible as a zombie.
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lol /\
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Craft some armor, if you're gonna turn into a zombie, may as well become an armoured one.