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Server time: 2019-05-21, 05:34
Joseph Danshov
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Morale
    At the moment Joe is a pretty broken man, clinging to life.
  3. Date of birth
    1980-05-15 (39 years old)
  4. Place of birth
  5. Nationality
  6. Ethnicity
  7. Languages
    Charnarussian, English


  1. Height
    185 cm
  2. Weight
    190 kg
  3. Build
  4. Hair
    Dark and cut short, unkempt
  5. Eyes
    Dark eyes that have seen an abundance of hard work and pain
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Good
  7. Features
    Having lived a simple life, and lucky enough to have hidden away from the worst of it, there is not much remarkable about Joe other than his lack of scars or markings. We'll see what the new world does to him
  8. Occupation


I was a simple man, born and raised in Chernarus. I did not much care for politics and kept my attention on my small community. I loved my family and I worked hard on the farm that had been in my family for generations. We were tough, we had survived hard times and wars. During the short time of peace, I benefited greatly from the agricultural revitalization it brought and was finally left with some money to spend. I wanted to ensure my family would continue to survive the next wave of hardships, so we took out a mortgage to construct a bomb shelter underneath my land. It was done surprisingly quickly thanks to the boon to the construction industry also brought by the peace, but rushed, as it would seem with hindsight. When the news finally started reporting about the strange outbreaks we only heard from rumors before, we set in motion to stock the bunker and prepare to weather it in there. But it reached us too quickly. My wife left to pick the kids up early from school while I went to pick some additional luxuries for them. And that was the last I ever saw them; before I knew it, there were hoards of infected swarming the neighborhoods from the same direction as the school. I waited as long as I could, but there were too many zombies....so I locked the door... And there I stayed as long as I could. Unfortunately because of high costs and shortcuts, the water filtration system burst a little over a year in. Thrust into my old homeland, with only what I could grab in my panic, little is as I remember it. I know my local area well, but just passing knowledge of other places. I dislike dwelling on the past, I dropped all ties to it, even my last name, and I try to kill as many zombies as is safe. Since the outbreak, and my time in the bunker, I have just been trying to scavenge what I can to survive and to find some semblance of society rebuilding. I don't enjoy fighting other survivors but I also have little compassion for them because I know what evil people have had to do just to make it this far. It's just Joe now. But I can't survive alone.


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