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Server time (UTC): 2019-11-21, 12:16
Abigail Juneau
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
    Aggressively positive
  3. Morale
  4. Date of birth
    1992-06-13 (27 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Woodworth, Louisiana, United States of America
  6. Nationality
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
  9. Religion


  1. Height
    172 cm
  2. Weight
    59 kg
  3. Build
  4. Hair
  5. Eyes
  6. Alignment
    Lawful Good
  7. Features




    *Tattoo of an eagle that is white and blue on her right leg*
  8. Occupation
    Farm hand
  9. Affiliation
    Red white and blue
  10. Role
    Care Taker


Abigail is the name, figured I may as well start keeping track of things like that before I myself forget who I was.


I was born and raised in a small place in Louisiana called Woodworth, quaint little place. Sure wasn't any louder with us living off in the outskirts of what city folk already called the boonies. My family had a peach field, some strawberry bushes, and our own cattle herd. Juneau ranch had been ours ever since my ancestors settled. No one ever seemed to want to change that, and like that, I became a farmhand since the day I could carry a basket and was intended to be one until the end of my days, not a bad way to end all things considered.


Life was hard during the winter months, more and more people were all about supermarkets and farmers markets just never pulled in enough for us to afford anything beyond the repairs for our trucks and feed for the horses. Year after year passed us with the ranch losing a hinge here, a horse there. We kept a smile and figured that a new day a new chance at rebuilding would come up. If we gave up then what would our forefathers think of us?


Things began to look up for us when some cheap labor washed up on our door front, I remember it was a hot July day, the sun was blinding me as two folks with a funny accent showed up in front of me. I was tending to Olivia. The man and women were looking for work, all they wanted was some shelter from the elements. Daddy wasn't too fond of strangers just coming in like this but gave them a shack our workers used to live in.


They worked hard and did not complain. At least I think, it took them a while to learn English. These folk were from a place called Chernarus. A civil war had driven them away to America, trying to find the "Amerikansky dream" or however you spell what they tried to say. I became good friends with Hana and Honza, father was far from happy seeing I was much younger than them but I knew they weren't freaks.


The ranch saw itself in a new light, with the cash we had been saving thanks to our somewhat free labor we managed to get repairs done on all of our equipment and bring ourselves back to capacity. Some city folk had been trying to buy us off for the longest time, now seeing our capacity they decided to buy straight from us and sell our food as "Local farmers product". Things were looking up for us.


Once Hanan and Honza started to earn some money they began saving up to see their home country again, they asked me to come along as they wanted to show me their country as I showed them mine, kind folk really. It was rough to convince daddy but he eventually gave in. We went on our flight to a place called South Zagoria where we would stay, my first plane trip was horrifying but nothing compared to the mess I would get myself into by having left my beloved ranch..


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