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Server time (UTC): 2019-11-21, 22:23
Danek Sevcik
RoCKiE
Character information
  1. Alias
    Sev
  2. Mental
    :)
  3. Morale
    (:
  4. Date of birth
    1993-11-11 (26 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Kirovograd
  6. Nationality
    Chernarussian
  7. Ethnicity
    Caucasian
  8. Languages
    Chernarussian, English, German
  9. Relationship
    N/A
  10. Family
    Viktor Tarasov [Kirovograd - Alive] Anna Yakovna [Kirovograd - Alive]
  11. Religion
    ūü§Ē

Description

  1. Height
    183 cm
  2. Weight
    72 kg
  3. Build
    Slim/Muscular
  4. Hair
    Dark brown, rather long, wavy
  5. Eyes
    Brown
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Neutral
  7. Features
    Mainly noticeable would be:
    - the burn marks on his left hand
    - a small scar from a cut on the right cheek in his face
    - two crossed daggers tattoo'd on the back of his neck
    - the logo of the bar "Obsidian" on the side of his neck (very well visible). Representing the tiny group of "raiders" he is with in Kirovograd. (Bleeding eye)
  8. Equipment
    A hunting knife, with the hilt made out of the antler of a deer
  9. Occupation
    "Raider" on the weekends
  10. Affiliation
    Obsidian
  11. Role
    Barkeeper

Background

 

 

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2 years it has been... the 2 longest years of my life... 2 years since this shit came upon us... gods final gift to us...
And for almost just as long these bastards turned my home into a living nightmare. Artillery shells were fired, aircraft dropped bombs, machine guns slaughtered innocents.

They put us in a cage... a cage to make us submit... surrender, or just die.


Trying to contain the plague of infected in and around the city. That's what they were after... in our best interest they told us to leave our home, into their little safe hideouts to the south and east, not realizing the only reason why it's not safe here, are they themselves. 
We would have managed on our own somehow... hell, even their own soldiers went rogue... 


Before this I was happy, content... life was good, I worked together with my friends Anna and Viktor in his uncle Jora's bar in the western parts of Kirovograd near the industrial hub, close to the river.
The place still exists and is called "Obsidian", located in the basement of an old shutdown brewery, there were plans to start that one up again before the outbreak, but we never got to that. 
The bar itself and most parts of the brewery are still in surprisingly good shape, given the fact that most of the city is unrecognizable...
I guess we got lucky that they never really targeted their own industrial installations... just the civilian areas.

Some petty soviet project... don't really know. The interior was completely new at the time... maybe 20 years ago, never used. Some petty project of the soviets and went nowhere once everything collapsed. 
Jora then acquired it dirty cheap once the economy went to shit.


I poured drinks, played pool, darts, cards, dices... every night... every week of the year...  life was good...

 

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When this plague first hit the city we ,alongside a bunch of other citizens, fortified the street, the bar was located in.
It didn't last long until those fortifications were torn down.
The city was in chaos, people were starving and we made ourselves a target with our efforts... bandits, raiders or just desperate men and women fighting for their lives came and knocked on our doors.
It was only a matter of time until we had to submit.
From here on out everything got worse and worse... day by day. 
Deserted soldiers dealing with everything they can get their hands on, slave trade started booming around the city center... and if things weren't already bad enough, "Comfort" arrived.

The fires of Kirovograd change men, they break men and I wasn't an exception, they broke me. We turned into the very same people we hated and slowly but surely even started to enjoy it.
Those filthy rats that abused our kindness were the target now.
With the logo of old bar tattoo'd onto our necks we went around, capturing every single one of those people... we cut off their fingers, dragged them all the way back to where they had sinned and nailed them to wooden crosses along the river, it was quiet a sight to behold for the people on the other side.
Every place we found and got one of them we used white paint to draw a crying eye onto the wall nearby.


Jora drifted a bit too deep into his own personal madness after the original targets were taken care of.
None of us minded doing the same things to CDF patrols or other bandits. But he extended it to random survivors looking for help.. and after a week or too we finally managed to snap him out of it.
We are not good people... not evil either... this little crusade was all about delivering justice.

 

During this time we reopened the "Obsidian".
A deal with out neighbors from Eclipse was made "officially" which helped us out a lot actually. Before that there have never really been issues, kind of an unspoken ceasefire... just tried to stay out of each others business really... they could have crushed us though if they wanted to.

 

After months and months of fighting, Eclipse and her men finally united us... 
Given the location of our bar we were some of the first to align with her...
And Eclipse gladly took us in...

This new found peace, peace at least compared to the past year, was oddly satisfying... all we ever wanted is Kirovograd like it was before all this.
They can all go to hell, Kozlov can, Vasily... those slaver fucks... and ,depending on what happens in the future, Eclipse as well.

 

Things were still chaotic, but the city was now also "back in order". Everyone knew exactly what to expect when entering certain parts of the city... at least the locals and only those who are lucky enough to have a clear mind...
And the CDF... they didn't even dare to enter anymore, hiding behind their little barricade.


That cage they put us in is open now and the time for revenge has come... they will pay... Kozlov will pay... every single one of them will pay for what they have done... they can join their brothers on the crosses near their little checkpoint on the outskirts of town.
 

God will be their final judge when they hang there... staring at the sun, bleeding from their eyes, asking for absolution.

 

 

 


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