It’s been 27 years since the collapse of Communism in Chernarus, but it is no cause to celebrate. A shadow has been casted over what sparse cities and villages existed in Chernarus after the Soviet Union - Nationalism. It had always been an issue in Chernarus. With the launch of Operation Alpenröschen during World War 2 into the Black Mountains and unto the proud city of Novigrad, the Nazi menace established a local pro-Nazi regime, made up of die-hard nationalists with a bone to pick with the Soviet government. The Chernarussian State, as some referred to it, was a spectre of things to come. Thankfully, the proletariats and those proud of their Motherland’s accomplishments rallied together to defeat the traitors.
The situation in 1943 was not too different to the situation in 2009. The sons and daughters of those very proletariats, workers, and patriots rallied together once more against the fascist menace. This time, the workers were alone. There was no Soviet Army to swoop in from the North, over the South Zagorian cities and factories, over the rolling hills and through the dense pine forests. They were alone, but it made no difference. They fought long and hard. But, in the end, it didn’t matter. The fascists were backed up by the Imperialist West and they brought their drones, helicopters and planes. The fascists viciously hunted down the leaders of 2009. Many were executed, under guises of genocide, insurrection and murder - all lies of course. It is not murder to defend oneself.
Now, despite everything that is going on. Despite the Apocalypse arriving in Chernarus - the fascists and reactionaries do not stop. They do not think to work together with one another. The foreigners trapped within our borders are prosecuted. Killed en masse and hunted, just as we were during those fateful days in 2009. I ask of you, my fellow workers - rise up against this menace. Bear your arms proudly, under the Red Banner. Fight back the reactionaries and liberate yourselves.
"Workers of the world, unite!"
Partisanship had always been a part of life in the Black Mountains. The mountain town of Tuapse was in fact famous for it and thus, the concept of partisanship was nothing new come 1943. During Napoleon’s invasion of Russia in 1812, small bands of civilians harassed the French and their allies before and after the retreat from Moscow. When the Kaiser’s army snuck in during World War 1, the Germans were forced to pull units from the front line to deal with the partisan activity and ultimately, the men and women from Tuapse participated in the Russian Civil War, founding small Red detachments, which were particularly successful in South Zagoria.
When German Gebirgsjäger units, accompanied by traitorous Cossack SS-divisions attacked key Russian fortifications in the Black Mountains, partisan groups from towns like Tuapse proved invaluable in providing guidance through the treacherous mountain ranges and in attacking key supply routes, effectively trapping several detachments and platoons in the freezing cold mountain peaks.
For their efforts, a small monument was erected in Tuapse, which only ever attracted four or five would be historians yearly. More importantly, Natasha Dmitrievna, a leader in Tuapse, posthumously received the Order of the Red Banner for her efforts. A woman, from such an obscure town, receiving such a prestigious award -- it shocked people. Ultimately, however, it solidified the town’s loyalty.
Dmitrievna moved into the Chernarussian SSR after the war to live a quieter, more secluded life. She moved there with her two sons, Vladim and Alexander and husband - Abram. There, they founded a small rural town specializing in peaches and apples, named Stalinisi. People came and went, usually with the picking seasons. Only a few families remained, participating in local community activities and other then a few state interactions, a completely autonomous life.
The town lived independently throughout the existence of the Soviet Union, only ever receiving a few calls for conscription and police visits for rowdy Chernarussians with a bone to pick. This changed, of course, with the Chernarussian Declaration of Independence in 1991. During the riots, Stalinisi was raided by small nationalist militias, with tools and supplies being stolen and hunting stalls and sheds being burned. The biggest shock came a few months later, when the newly established Chernarussian government came to the village with an ultimatum: remove the villages name and identity or be evicted. The choice was obvious, the men were too old to put up a fight and the boys too young to take their place. The village became * ████ and according to de-Communisation policies and the small monument dedicated to paristan Natasha Dmitrievna was demolished.
This was a wakeup call for the denizens of ████, things were changing whether they liked it or not. They would have to fend for themselves in this new era of Chernarussian nationalism. The men buried their hunting rifles in fear of them being taken off them and the disgruntled ex-soldiers hid their old AK rifles under beds and in toy lockers. The truck drivers that used to transport apples and peaches from the orchards to the factories to be processed were laid off, replaced with Chernarussians in dire need of a job. Hell, even the police-men were replaced and reorganised.
This major change sowed the seed of dissent and would enable the Chernarussian Movement of the Red Star to gain control over the area.
The scars from the 1991 raids and de-Communisation were still very real, and the foundation of the Chernarussian Movement of the Red Star gave the village’s anger a productive release. For the most part, the ChDKZ was a legal movement, but they were planning something big. Anton Grigorievich , father of two young boys, was a devout Chedaki and planned to use the town as a training ground for Russian paramilitaries and weapon storage. From there on out, ████ became a hotbed for extremist organisations.
Anton’s two sons, Roma and Kirov merely watched as his father met shady men in suits and turtlenecks. They were old enough to consider politics, but not old enough to comprehend them. They’d talk about equality and the liberation of the working man, whilst beating down on rival Chernarussian gangs of boys in the woods. Anton could see that his two sons needed a productive outlet and an education. Hence, he gave them a run-down course on socialism and the implementation of the ideology just before giving the eldest a rifle and the younger a pair of binoculars. They’d train together for the remainder of the year.
Late in the year, just before the snow fell a small brawl between a group of Russians and Chernarussians erupted. Kirov was stabbed during the fist-fight. Outraged, Kirov went home to ████ and snuck out later in the night with his father’s pistol, whilst Anton and Roma were at the hospital. He rallied some of the other boys, who were keen for retaliation. The intention was to just scare him off and give him a warning. Maybe rough him up a little bit. But things turned sour. It turns out that this one particular Chernarussian boy was a drug dealer and had his stock to protect. A small gunfight erupted and Kirov shot the boy dead. It didn’t change him, it didn’t make him feel any better either. He simply knew that he had the ability to kill someone.
This marked a turning point for the duo. They trained more rigorously, and even ordered some old military surplus online; smersh, camo netting – that kind of thing. Soon enough, their little gang of boys turned into a serious paramilitary, full of anarchists, Marxists and misfits. This undeniably made Anton proud and soon enough, their newfound paramilitary was also rocking the ribbon of St. George and the Chernarussian Red Star. They learnt that funds were desperate, so they took up robbing. Police-stations with armouries and lazy guards, desolate ATMs and local banks. In enough time, they’d earned enough dirty tanks to arm the entire local area and extra.
In December, just before Christmas day, Roma would be arrested for possession of an illegal firearm – an AK-74U to be exact. For every bullet, a year would be added. The bias judge that presided over him gave him a life sentence without parole and in Chernarus, a life sentence really is for life. It was an outrage, but no strike or protest would change it. His younger brother plotted, but their father assured him that there was nothing they could do – yet.
The twenty-first of November was cold, but otherwise clear. The Civil War had been raging for a few months now, with Anton’s militia seeing constant combat. The absence of Roma had greatly dampened morale in the militia, knowing that they walk free whilst one of their comrades are stuck in a tiny prison cell. Thus, they hatched a plan to break him out before he was transferred to Miroslavl. The men involved slipped through checkpoints as refugees seeking a new home, posing as Chernarussians to avoid suspicion. These men then gathered in a warehouse in Kamyshovo, where a fisherman had lent them a boat and where their weapons were waiting. A stolen blueprint revealed that there was a pipe that connected to the sea and into the maintenance room and ran underneath the prison. The plan was to rig this pipe with explosions and blow a large section of the prison from underneath it. Then, whilst the guards were distracted, they would climb up to the outer wall, rig it with explosives and create a hole in which they could allow prisoners to escape from during yard time.
The plan failed for the most part. The explosion shook the ground, but nothing of real consequence happened above ground and the guards were still present upon the insertion to the wall. However, luckily, the guards were easy pickings for the battle-hardened warriors of the ████ militia and they were still able to rig the wall. After retreating to a safe distance, they blew the wall. Confused and disgruntled guards watched as about fifty-five men in striped pyjamas ran out. On their boat, they took about five men with them – one of them Roma. Only a few escapees actually escaped par from that five, the rest being captured or shot.
The brothers transferred out of the ████ militia soon after the prison break, finding a home in a reconnaissance battalion, known for guerrilla tactics and assassination missions. Usually, they’d target people like local priests known for sheltering NAPA militiamen, local nationalist leaders and checkpoint officers. Rarely, anyone of importance was killed. Upon a raid further south, they came into an abundance of military grade uniforms and kit, effectively transforming the reconnaissance battalion into an actual fighting force. Gorka uniforms, mess kits hell, even belts.
The battalion was present for war-crimes, but was never brought to light for any involvement or knowledge of such actions and after the Civil War, most members avoided persecution by splitting up and re-integrating into Chernarussian society. Those who spoke Chernarussian found this easy, but those who only spoke Russian were found and persecuted easily. The two brothers moved to a quiet town and lived out their lives named Zvir. Small amounts of contact was maintained between those who formed friendships during the war.
The two brothers, Roma and Kriov, were for the most part unaware of the Apocalypse. The town of Zvir was too isolated and self-sufficient to realise what was going on. Suspicion was only created when a shipment of bottled water failed to arrive. At a town meeting, the two brothers volunteered to go to Zelenogorsk to either go pick it up or figure out why it’s so late. They arrived at a checkpoint. It didn’t feel out of the ordinary, the Chernarussian Defence Force always liked to bother the civil populace. But, no one came out of the checkpoint. Confused, they drove up to find it abandoned. Casings were scattered on the ground. Further up, there was a pile of bodies. The blood splattered on their clothing wasn’t a regular, crimson red. Instead, it was blackened and unnatural looking. Their faces were twisted and their irises were non-existent, just white and blood shocked.
They quickly drove over to a payphone - but the line had been cut. Confused and frightened, they drove into Zelenogorsk to be met with hordes of standing corpses. They drove slowly at first, trying not to hit anyone, but then the undead began to bang on their windows. They picked up speed and hit as many as they could, speeding out of the most clear exit. Town after town, they saw the same thing. Figuring that travelling any further was pointless, they tried to send a radio message back to Zvir. No response. Again, nothing. Fearing the worse, they camped out for weeks, living off the land.
Eventually, they figured that they should send a message over the radio, hoping to contact any of their old comrades from the Civil War. After the third message, they got a reply. They met where it all started, █████ and reformed the movement. They planned to take advantage of the Apocalypse to create a new society.
Day 495: Establish a free territory within South Zagoria.
Day 500: Establish an understanding of the politics of South Zagoria and establish who is sympathetic to our cause and who is against it. Furthermore isolate and speak with as many survivors as possible to convert them to our cause. Establish contact with Viktor Padella.
Day 535: Create a radio station to play nostalgic Communist music and inform survivors of current news.
Continuous: Recruit those sympathetic to our cause.
Continuous: Provide aid to those oppressed by reactionaries.
Continuous: Abolish and denounce private property. (Not to be confused with personal property.)
Actively contribute to the lore of the server, the overarching narrative and the narrative of each individual character within the group.
Provide a realistic and immersive experience.
Create an opposition to current standing nationalist groups.
Provide a sense of “consequences”. When a character is executed, they will be permanently killed.
Kirov Grigorievich - - @Stannis
Roma Grigorievich - [email protected]
Petir Jelinek - - @birduarent
Bodrov Vassili - - @Tander
Yuliy Konstantin - - @Clarence
Davis Bauhm - - @Charles
Maxwell Dahmer - - @Specky
Anton Kushnir - - @Oakerly
Blazek Brada - - @DidgeridooKangaroo
Shibalov Georgiy - - @Ming
Vladimir Volkov - - @King Lionheart
Pavlo Zima - - @Saintguy
Dewey Carson - - @PilotBland
Mikhail Makrov - - @BetterLegion
Svetlana Nikolaevna - - @PurpleSockz