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Server time (UTC): 2020-05-25, 16:26 WE ARE RECRUITING

Livonia, a land of high adventure.

It seems this is as far as I'm going to get. Not to worry though, Chernarus was the initial goal but I've still managed to plant myself squarely in hostile territory. 

I made most of the journey by motorbike, a last hurrah for my old Triumph scrambler. She spluttered and died around a day's walk from the Poland/Livonia border. Things were surprisingly lax when I got there, I suppose most troops were occupied elsewhere. I tried to bluff my way through the checkpoint, but I was told in no uncertain terms to fuck off back the way I came. How rude.

I travelled a little further north and made my crossing under cover of darkness, making short work of the wire fence with my leatherman. Bureaucracy won't get in the way of this adventure. I made camp deep into the woods, burned my passport, ate some food, and moved off in search of a weapon. 

A long time has passed since then. I've gained and lost various pieces of kit, found a dependable old rifle. The wild game in this country is plentiful and it only rains a little more than back home. The landscape reminds me of training in the Brecon Beacons. I've grown quite comfortable here.

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Clive Hastings - The Aging Lion

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