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Server time (UTC): 2021-01-22, 08:53


"Soul-bound My Feet Trudge Onward..."

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290 h Bean Bandit

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  1. *Racks AK* Time for another purge. In all seriousness, good luck lads.
  2. I'm kinda expecting a "Be a shame if something were to...happen to it" somewhere
  3. More Foreign Dog Pigs pretending to be an "army of the people"..Pheh.. But no, in all seriousness, good luck with this group lads, it'll be nice to see what kind of dynamic you can bring to the server.
  4. There is no hard cap on "Military Grade" weapons in the loot table - considering there's usually an abundance of UMP's an SKS's at all the mil bases i've passed - fully fledged assault rifles are a rarity due to everyone wanting one, and picking it up when they can. You just got unlucky on your loot run my friend.
  5. Aye man, was an enjoyable encounter - glad it turned out the way it did though. Can't imagine this'll be the only time i run into you boys
  6. ~The Ruins of Novigrad, Taken Mid-2018~ "The Situation in South Zagoria is under Control" That was the message the Loudspeakers kept blaring, continually spouted throughout the crisis. A continual, loud, prideful message that was nothing but a complete fabrication. A lie that spread far and wide as the Crisis continued to worsen and worsen further. In all my years of service, all my training, all my resolve...I don't think anyone, anywhere could have seen this coming. To those of you that read this recollection of the tales that kick-started the whole mess we lay in now, all I might be saying is some distant past, a tale of historical import to some curious eye that finds their hands wrapped around this Journal, squinting to read through cracked glasses or in the dim glow of the firelight as the breeze forced the flames to wax and wane with their own form of savage dancing. But where do I begin, where to begin? Now I can hardly start at the end, now can I? It would not be fitting for a satisfying conclusion to my own version of the Outbreak and the events thereafter. No, to get you up to speed - with who I am, and what I did...no - I have to start at the Beginning. Well..to start there is my name. Luka Kratochvil. Currently, as of writing - Thirty Eight years old. An old man by the new standard. I was born in Gvozdno, South Zagoria on March the 21st 1980 - still when Chernarus was an autonomous republic under the death throngs of the Soviet Union. I was born into a relatively well off family. In those days that meant we only occasionally went without dinner, and as the Middle Child of Three - I don't think I was either the most fortunate, nor unfortunate of Children. My Older brother by two years - Eric, and younger sister by 12 years - Kara. I came from a long military line of family however - both my grandfathers served in the Red Army during the Great Patriotic War - and my father - until the collapse of the Soviet Union in '91- had also served in the Red Army as an officer - before signing up to serve in the Chernarus Defence Forces following the Red Army's dissolution. Mother on the other hand stayed at home, doting on us boys in a bid to teach us manners. Father was away from home too often for us to learn from him, so Mother instead was the main source of - what some would consider - mine and my Bratiri's more lighthearted nature, whereas father was the stern, strict reinforcement for realism over optimism, and pragmatism over idealism. Father was always stern to remind us of the tales our Grandfathers told of their time in the Red Army that I shan't recount here for the sanity of those reading. Regardless, my time as a youth was largely...uneventful. It was - compared to most western states at the -very- least - a tough upbringing. Me and Eric had the fortune of being born to a young mother - she was 23 when she had me - so often when we weren't at school, mother used to play a lot with us - be it hide and seek or any other game that we could think of. While we lacked the luxury of many toys to busy ourselves with - we had plenty of books - something that I moreso than Eric took up in reading. Though outside of home, I struggled to make any real friends besides the other children in the village whenever a football was introduced. But, for the most part - my Childhood was good..I remember the day in 1991 where the Chernarussian Flag flew over the country for the first time, and the Republic of Chernarus was proclaimed over the Radio...father said things would be better, now that we were our own people, our own country...and like an idealistic fool. I had to believe him. I "knew" things would only get better...how naive my younger self was back then.
  7. Yes it is indeed me - was fun rping with you too bro
  8. Post Vanguard DayZ shennanigans.
  9. The event was a total mess and lagged out no end - but after all, it was a blast - a chaotic, messy blast that I loved. It was so over the top i think it broke my game a little. When you do an event that strains DayZ so much, it reverts to the original release level of brokenness.
  10. *Releasing a heavy, dismayed sigh, having listened into the distress signal, Kara Depressed the PTT button, releasing a soft *SNICK* sound, before her soft spoken Chernarussian accent filled the air* "Glad to hear CDF are still fighting the Infection and I'll try and make my way north with some supplies. Hopefully I'll be able to make it up there in time to offer some assistance, though I'll be sure to pack extra IV's on my journey northwards, hopefully we won't be caught short on medical professionals. Until such time that we meet in person, Good luck. Slava Chernarus. Kratochvil Out." *And with that, the transmission fell silent after what sounded like the sounds of a bag being hastily packed in the background, before another soft *SNICK* sound*
  11. *Spooling through the numerous radio frequencies while set with her back against the wall in the Homestead, and would find herself listening to the man's words with a mix of disgust and contempt. Collecting her scratched Shortwave radio, she lifted the radio to her lips, and depressed the PTT button. The Airwaves would be met with a soft *SNICK* sound, before at last, the soft spoken voice of a Chernarussian woman filled the Airwaves, spoken in a calm and collected tone* "Respectfully Sir, "Hoarding the best doctors and medical supplies"? That "Need to be redistributed to the Zagorian peoples"? You mistake our mission of Collecting medical supplies in order to competently treat numerous patients - with hoarding supplies within the proverbial Dragon's lair. You are unfortunately mistaken if you consider us anything other than a charity who help anyone and everyone that crosses our path, regardless of past affiliations or even scrapes with our personnel in the past - people doing our very best to heal the world while it seems to be stuck in the midst of tearing itself apart. We are no idea of "Bourgeoisie", Sir - that is a word that is at best - out of date for the times that we live in, and at worst, deliberately misleading. We live in dangerous times, and those who do not prepare for eventualities often find themselves caught short - it is merely the logical thing to do. It furthermore makes sense to co-ordinate medical professionals - meaning we are far more capable of treating patients that we come across that may have injuries that some of us are unfamiliar with - sometimes the most deadly thing to a patient - can be an untrained doctor. To you, Sir who's daughter was caught up in this unfortunate incident that sparked this proverbial mess over the airwaves - I offer you my sincerest condolences and will pray for her swift recovery. To the rest of you gentlemen and any ladies who might deign to also find yourself on the airwaves - I hope you all stay safe, and if you find yourselves in need of us - you need only ask and we'll come running." *And with that, the transmission cut off with a soft *SNICK* as the PTT button was undoubtedly released by the speaker*
  12. I'm going to level with you all here as something of a Lore nerd. I don't like this idea, not one little bit - primarily because it essentially prevents any idea of a long term buildup of a cohesive narrative and story, and sure A year is a long time to do lots of cool things in, but why should anyone bother to generate an interesting story - if in the end, all that effort you put into creating a character, all their experiences, hopes, dreams, losses - everything you've worked and crafted so hard to build, just means nothing at the end of the year. It encourages drop in and play attitude, rather than sticking it out, watching what happens to your character and influencing others over a long period of time, and watching as they change and adapt. Short term it could fix some disillusionment in the story - but long term it fixes nothing. Like others have said before, a Dedicated Loremaster and Event team that work in tandem with one another to give a sense of scale to the world, and a continually adapting narrative in our little pocket of the planet would be far better than just wiping all progress at the end of a year in my humble opinion.
  13. *Flustered and tired after a long few hours of scavenging, Kara would seat herself with a heavy thump onto one of the chairs in the Hospital, withdrawing her scratched old shortwave radio, and depressing the PTT button, which made a slight *snick* sound as the transmission began, her Chernarussian accent piercing the dull airwaves* "I wouldn't say Sverograd is a ghost town - people still come and go as they please, though I and several others are still around Sverograd - I've been trying to get the hospital up and running as well. I'm thinking most people are either, like me - out scavenging - or otherwise are sleeping through the day. And I would be cautious with heading to Lopatino - I have heard some not so gleaming tales about it - so be careful if you head down that way, ano? Otherwise, it just depends on the time of day when people decide to turn up and or wake up - much like with other places. Stay safe." *And with that, she would release the PTT button, sighing heavily as she leant back in her chair, catching a brief moment of solace*
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