Kendall Winston Bayers; a Caucasian, hazel-eyed, straight-shooting, bloodhound residing from the marvelous Gorka, Chernarus. Awhile after his ninth birthday, the conceivers of Kendall (Victoria & Marcus Bayers) placed him up for adoption due to their immorally irresponsible ethics of parenting. Victoria worked at a Tailoring Shop in Polana, Chernarus and attended daily shifts to provide herself with a special remedy (crack cocaine). Marcus was classified as an unemployed Pill Head who attempted to manufacture vehicle parts with his bare hands and cooked up several batches of hallucinogenic drugs such as Nutmeg and Scopolamine. Of course, once all the paperwork was affirmed and confirmed by the guardians, Kendall adapted to the little rituals preached and demonstrated by his foster parents such as fasting, praying and learned how to successfully farm/harvest crops, use fertilizer, and adjusting to the Winchester Rifle seven years later in a town known as Zelenogorsk. In the year of May 2010, Kendall met a seventeen year old by the name of Ethan Bishop, coincidentally finding him on his way to the Zelenogorsk Ammunition Shop, performing target practices on his farm. Kendall approaches Ethan, giving him credibility for his precision and accuracy; he developed a sense of curiosity based on how to expand on the Winchester Rifle. After excruciating hours of rehearsal and elaborate explanations, Kendall became an excellent shot. A few months later, Ethan and a few of his friends gathered up for a exquisite hunting trip nearby. In 2011, desperation for employment came into play; Kendall and Ethan moved to Chernogorsk and worked at a fishery together. The world began to look up for Kendall as soon as he broadened his horizons; he assembled a household alongside Ethan, developed a relationship fulfilled with intimacy (a girl by the name of Julia Livingston), was in commission (in terms of employment), and experienced some cherishing memories worth nurturing before everything crumpled into a ball of shit during the sudden apocalypse in February 2012.
Eighteen years of age, two months after New Years; Kendall, Ethan and their girlfriends stood by a dock peacefully gazing at the stars until a blood curdling scream awoken their very souls. These shrieks appeared from a child and a father, as we ran past the Chernogorsk Convenience Store to witness the sight of two severed casualties. Disregarding the terrorizing man-eaters, we station ourselves just north in one of Vysota's small villages for a week. Theories state an unknown parasitic disease polluted the air which initiates the transformation of superficial-like civilians to crave an appetite for blood, devouring the affected/unaffected. There was a lot of commotion south of us in Chernogorsk, in which we decided to pursue north and discovered an idle vehicle without any fuel. Since we didn't have a high budget on this 'luxuriously extendable' double date, we traveled back to the village for gas. As we ride away in the rusty hunk of shit, we travel south in Mogilevka. Our stay wasn't long and prosperous due to all the local town looters who inevitably spotted us with a Lieutenant by the name of Craig Hawkesbury who fired off a warning shot, escalating into a full-blown firefight. After righteously defending one another, a travesty unveiled when the soldier was killed and four other who cannot be identified (presumably villagers). This was our last pit stop, aside from fleeing off to Black Forest, left to gather up replenishing/perishable resources near Polana. Timing our arrival, the girls were held as hostages by four bandits, making the both of us victims to yet another murder scenario (perpetrated by the perpetrators themselves). We offered to give up our supplies, but instead allowed their greed to intervene and in spite of our compromising, executed our women, causing our instincts/functionalities to sway us toward countless trees, aimlessly shooting blanks and bullets as we run backwards downhill.
Months passed and we approached a man on the road while on this perpetually sentimental journey and informed us of the now-vacant military base and no assistance will be available, leaving us with nobody to trust, confiscated without any resources. While sleep deprivation was a treacherous obstacle, our guard was never at rest.