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Server time (UTC): 2020-01-23, 06:32 WE ARE RECRUITING
Alfred Yeats
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
  3. Morale
    Barely any..
  4. Date of birth
    1990-02-13 (29 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    The Royal London Hospital
  6. Nationality
  7. Ethnicity
    White British
  8. Languages
  9. Relationship
  10. Family
  11. Religion


  1. Height
    182 cm
  2. Weight
    85 kg
  3. Build
    Broad shoulders, very toned and athletic looking.
  4. Hair
    Black slicked back hair
  5. Eyes
    Brown with orange flecks
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Neutral
  7. Features
    Dark features, Slicked black hair, Black thick beard.
    Many traditional tattoos from the kneck down
  8. Equipment
    Black jacket
    Grey Jeans
    Black Boots
    White t-shirt
    Zippo lighter
    Small blade
    Tin of menthol snuff
    A "hammer" style smoking pipe
    A half pouch of cherry vanilla pipe tobacco
  9. Occupation
  10. Affiliation
  11. Role



Started out life living with a single mother who was an alcoholic, dad was never around. Always different men knocking at the door and leaving at all hours. Had an older sister called Taylor who overdosed on drugs in her teens, this sent his mother into a spiral of alcohol abuse. Alfie realized at a young age that violence and anger were the only way to make yourself heard, used to scrap with kids twice his size on the playground and eventually on the streets.


He became quite the fighter participating in boxing clubs and the likes, found out he could earn big money fighting bare knuckle against gypsies or anyone who came looking for a thick lip and sore jaw. This eventually leads to him working in “security” of sorts or hired muscle for drugs and arms dealers on the streets of London. During his time as “security”, he learned the basics of how to use pistols, to a degree. Poorly maintained and often older than him the guns he had access to were hardly reliable or safe but he kept one around merely for show or shock value. Let's face it he hardly wanted to kill people who owed his boss money, When his mouth couldn't do the persuading his fists could.


A few bad deals and busts lead Alfie to HMP for more than one stint often joking that 4 white walls and barred windows were the best night's sleep he ever had. Remaining loyal to a boxing club owner and drug dealer Anthony “Tony the Hammer” Crawford saw Alfie making more money than he could spend but it was tough and very dangerous work. He often had to set up and babysit deals or trades, while Tony did the talking Alfie was there for intimidation.  


You're probably wondering how does a bare-knuckle boxer and muscle for a drug dealer end up in Chernarus?


Well, Tony wanted to do a deal with some Russians for the finest “Russian White” so Alfie set up the deal. It was to take place in a warehouse just off the East end docks, nothing unusual. The Russians come as agreed by boat into the dock with the goods and Tony approaches with the cash, the deal seemed to be going smooth and as planned. Well, that was until Tony decides to pull a gun and shoot the Russians dead in the boat and make off with both the “White” and the money.


Alfie has no idea what's happening and hops into the van with Tony who is confident that he won't receive any backlash from the Russians. Tony explains that he had been tipped off that the Russians were planning on selling to the competition but for a much lower price and he feared this would alleviate his hold over the other dealers in London. Alfie is concerned that he wasn't told about Tony’s plans to dispose of them and is angry because they both could have ended up dead. Alfie decides to take a few days to himself while Tony shifts the gear to his “help”.


He frequents a bar known as “The Dove and nightgown” most evenings and knows the owner “Frank” and all the patrons by name, this particular night it seemed very quiet. He ordered his usual Ale of choice and shot of bourbon and settled into a booth. He noticed a couple of new faces but thought nothing more of it continuing with his drinks. After 4 rounds he decided to leave saying “Night Geez” to Frank on the way out. Walking up the street whistling to himself as he went he was followed by a man who also left the dove, noticing he picks up the pace and darts into an alleyway hopping a wall to get behind his pursuer. Alfie grabs the man from behind whispering in his thick London accent “oi the fuck you followin me for eh?” he quickly realizes as the man shouts and struggles that he's Russian. Suddenly he takes a sharp blow to the head and is knocked unconscious.


Waking up to the sound of waves and creaking, Alfie jumps to his feet before being knocked off balance by the worst headache and what feels like swaying.

He comes to the realization after feeling around in the dark that he is in a metal container that is longer than it is wide. Where is he? Where are the Russians?

He finds they left him with nothing in his pockets but failed to check his boots in one a lighter the other a small blade. He sparks the lighter and finds nothing but a single bottle of water, bread with what looks like a meat paste and a few old sheets dumped into the corner next to what looks like a plastic bucket. A day or so passes and he feels whatever he's on come to a stop and lots of muffled shouting and screaming, gunshots ricochet through the container punching holes allowing small amounts of light in, it appears he's on a boat of some sort and that it's under attack. A few hours of dead silence apart from the sound of birds and waves, when suddenly the sound of running on the deck getting closer and closer. The container door swings open and the sudden change in light leaves Alfie blind and dazed.


Stepping outside of the container he sees what looks to be a man running down the side of the ship and away. Alfie shouts but the man carries on, he looks around but he doesn't recognize the docks or the boat. Blood and shell casings litter the deck but nobody in sight. Alfie finds his way off the boat and spots a town not too far and sets off walking hoping to catch a train back to London….


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