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Server time: 2017-10-22, 13:44
Safe Zone: CLOSED

Matvei Zaakar

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About Matvei Zaakar

  • Birthday 03/15/86
  1. Hello again friends, I am Matvei Zaakar - Proud Chernorussian and Moscow resident for most of my life. It has been a hard summer in the mountains to the north, very solitary and discouraging, but I am hoping to return to Chernarus now that the craziness of .57 is over. I have once again been finding the spirit in my life that drives me forward, and though sometimes I feel the strain of existence in this place, it is refreshing to see the splendor of the the land. I had some trouble in Chernarus before, I would try to prepare a camp but the camp would not stay. Everything vanished after some time away, this happened to me many times and I thought I may be hunted by some of the strange freaks I have hear talking in buildings. After changing my tactics and trying again and again I was convinced some other worldly presence was to blame for this mischief, I fled to the mountains to try and find some redemption - or my death.... As fate would have it, I am here still - and I feel like the presence that stole my preparations has left me as well. It was hard and lonely here a season ago, but with a camp - I may be able to maintain my sanity. Who knows, I may finally meet some people who will do more than give fake names, or try to kill the few friends I make. I find myself dreaming of the three thieves - and what I will do to them when I find them. Animals like them will be paunched and their skin dried in the Sun - their rotten blood drained and returned to the Earth... Anyway - forgive me. A long journey made sour by the presence of those who cower in the dark, those who try to prey on Good People, they will not escape me next time. I still have a ways to go, and hopefully I can still remember the way - But I am sending this note with the southern wind to declare my return. The return of the True Journeyman. Cebaka, Matvei Zaakar
  2. Free Food For all

    Matvei replaces the batteries in his Icom, he has lost count of the days since he heard another human voice... He hears this transmission and the thought of food makes him smile.
  3. Jims General Store Frequency!

    Matvei studies his tattered map of Chernarus carefully with his finger on the pages. With an old pen he makes small marks on the map where has met people. He tucks his lips and shakes his head - thinking about how stupid it is that he cannot trust even the names gives to him by anyone, how hard it has been just to find out anything about the people here. He hears the transmission from this Jim Dweyer about the store - the look in his eyes softens and his brow relaxes - the idea of honest people trying to make a living amongst others goes straight to his heart. then, to hear the threats of another man slither through the speaker... Matvei imagines the night when his friends were almost robbed, the dark shapes, the sudden jolts of his rifle, the silent hope in his mind that he would kill the "James" and "Sergei" with his bullets... He imagines this store, with a hard working man building it up with his hands. He imagines two gunmen approaching, the worried look on the store keeper's face... Matvei imagines the down slope shot punching through the chest of the aggressors - the blood of the first sloshing on the feet of the second gunman... He imagines the gunman running, the second shot through the lung, and the folded body of the would-be bandit tumbling across the gravel road... Matvei spits into the dirt, and takes a long draw from his cigar... He can't trust what he doesn't know. He doesn't know these men, He doesn't know the real name of anyone he has met, He doesn't know the men at the campfire in Cherno days before, he doesn't even know the men he met at Dolina. Dolina is a mess from the sound of it, and it seems Matvei is back at square one - trying to figure out who is who in this place, silently wishing he had never come out of hiding.
  4. 91.1Hz [S3 BUSINESS ONLY]

    Mat rubs his thumb across the edge of his bush knife, it seems sharp enough. He picks up his ICOM and tunes it to 91.1,then deliberately presses the transmit button. Gentlemen, Mr. Jack Whiskey and Warrant Officer Collins, My Name is Matvei Zaakar. Throughout my life I have had much experience in combat, and after some time here existing on the outskirts of this country, I find myself searching for meaning again. Meaning amongst the Living. I am looking to find more skilled survivors such as myself, and the cause of the Sheepdogs seems to be a noble one. I am answering the call for people who may be instructors... Perhaps there is something I can learn from you as well. Hopefully we can talk further about this. Thank You Both and Good Luck in Your Ventures. Matvei lowers his radio, cracks open a kvass, and watches the sun set over Cherno.
  5. Roadside Transmission [All Frequencies]

    ** The wind continues to blow in the afternoon sun. The sweet smell of cured tobacco fills the air, Matvei's cigar burns crooked in the breeze. He stops in the shade of a Ashwood tree, the euphoric feeling takes him away for a split second as he watches the plains... suddenly his radio crackles to life with a response to his transmission... He props his rifle across his chest and hitches his stance as he listens to every word that pours across the airwaves... Looking into the dirt for a few seconds, he suddenly looks up and furrows his brow... With his pack still on his back he turns and nods toward his comrades... The sound of rustling nylon can be heard as he cues the transmission... "I appreciate the information. I know all too well how this land has come under the control of Animals who call themselves men. Cowards who believe they are Bandits nearly killed my friends last night, rounds from my SKS were the only things between them and a brutal death..." He grips the stock of his rifle and lowers the muzzle to the ground, leaning with a sort of repugnance at the memory all too fresh in his mind. "I am not naive to the ways of humans." He gathers himself and relaxes his tone. "Our People have endured much. Perhaps the only ones left now have endured too much, but we have no choice. Just as I did when I came to Chernarus, I had no choice. I was Sent, I am Here, I am trying to understand while working hard to survive, working hard to keep my people from being slaughtered." ...He pauses to wipe the sweat from his brow. The cool air returns and soothes his mind. "These pigs who attacked us pretended to be travellers, like us. They wouldn't give their names, not even their affiliation. They are Cowards of the Worst Breed. These are the men I am trying to avoid for now, and These men will moisten the Earth with their Blood. These ARE the men I will end up killing."... he wrings the cherry from the tip of his cigar with his fingers and spits into the dirt. "I have walked here. I have heard the clown-like voices in Kabanino, I have met the students in Dolina... I wouldn't ask something unless I felt that I needed to. I Go, and Then I Know."... Matvei straightens the sling on his rifle, wraps it around his elbow and starts walking. As his partners follow behind, the trees rush with the speed of the wind. **
  6. ** The Sun shines higher in the sky as noon approaches, and the summer heat begins to wash up from the dirt road. The straps on his pack dig into his shoulders as he reaches the pass, the hiker drops his pack and sits in the shade. He reaches into his pack and fishes out a can of tuna. As he eats, he remembers something he found on a note a while back. He opens his pack and pulls out his dusty old ICOM. After replacing the batteries he wipes the screen with his thumb and smiles, remembering all of the trips he has carried it through... He scans for a minute, tuning to 2m band. He presses PTT... ** "This Place, it is very beautiful once the sun has risen, when the wind is blowing... it is how it should be. I have heard that there was a safe zone in a town called Vybor, a place where we can meet on common ground... I am new to Chernarus, I am looking for information..." ** Unsure of his query, he tucks his lips and gazes at the view ahead. The trees and the Sky seem perfect to him. He tucks his radio into this vest, shoulders his pack, and continues walking along the road. **
  7. Cannot Forget...

    The Infected People here are not Human at all... I found some of them wandering the shore, they were insane. They were pale and smelled awful... They smelled of Death. I had to kill One at first, using only a small hatchet. The Blood was Black, and barely ran, as though their tissues are like a wet rag. I had to throw up, I couldn't get the smell off of me. I met some survivors who seem just as confused as I was... Could these things be what killed my friends at the airfield? That must be what you mean Jason. Do not get eaten by these things, these monsters. I will try not to. // Thank You Riggs!
  8. Cannot Forget...

    Hello, My Name is Matvei Zaakar, friends called me "Izbushka"... I am from Chernarus, I was born here - and I have been away all of my life. I was raised in Russia, and until recently - I was a Russian Soldier. I was sent here after the quarantine with a detachment of troops to secure an airfield. We were attacked, my men were killed. I find myself here, writing this message in some strange hope... a hope that even I don't understand yet. If anyone reads this, Please Take Care of Eachother out there. I want to find the men who attacked us... I will find them. Kind Regards, Sgt. Matvei Zaakar
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