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Eminence

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About Eminence

  • Birthday 03/20/95
  1. Road Thoughts

    Written upon a sheet of parchment of an aged and sad quality - were the thoughts of a man who had lost all but his shoes, the clothes he wears, and the empty cans in his satchel bag. Old, greyed and burnt sunglasses covered his eyes, a grey and starched respirator over his mouth. Stitched into his clothes were the remains of ash, dirt and all manner of things. His shoes were falling apart as his feet tramped up, down, east and west along the roads, in search for - well... It does not matter. These are his thoughts. Trees gone, dead. Dead as the daylight had died. Crops gone, dead. Dead as those I had once loved had died. Roads crumbling, falling to the power and will of nature as every person I had ever seen or heard had. Grass withering, falling back into the dirt from which it came as the sun is consumed by the grey shrouds that occupy every corner of our world. Once there were salmon that jumped up the streams and up the rivers - in the mountains and in the forests. You could see them swimming up and down in the silver current where the orange edges of their fins wimpled slowly in the flow. Should you have the chance to hook one to your rod and feel it in your hands, you would smell that foul stench that is life, that is nature. You would feel upon the backs of your catch the scales, edging in countless directions as defined by God himself in his hour of creation - maps of the world, the rivers, the fields, the forests. In the deep glens and in the deep rivers there swam things older than the existence of man, their existences destroyed by mans greed and mans hate. Now, from where I once would adore those I loved or those things that I love I do walk out in the grey light and watch the world dying, the cold relentless circling of this planet as it falls deeper into a crumbling black vaccum that is this universe. He woke from the same dream that beset his mind night after night under the grey clouds and among the dying leaves and dying grass. He reached his aching, dying hand over to the man next to him. The man shuddered, lifting himself up from the dark grass that was his home for that night. They stood, picking from under the dead tree their bags of burlap. They made their way up the bank and to the familiar road for which they had been walking for years now. In his hand was a revolver, dark, burnt and blackened. Two shells sat within the cartridge. They walked on the road, silent. Him, keeping his mind clear of thoughts that would bring him back. To admit a life better than this is to admit your own defeat and to sign your heart and soul to the likes of the Devil below. The other one, he was probably thinking the exact same thing.
  2. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    I will be offline for the next four days. We will continue recruitment of course, and Jamzor will be monitoring the clan while I am gone.
  3. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    I will send a PM.
  4. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    I hope these additions have helped the thread b
  5. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    Okay will make the changes you asked for.
  6. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    Thanks. You will now join this group and I will feed you more roleplay. +1 Was really unique, Good luck dudes. Thanks we appreciate it, from both of you
  7. The Road Walkers Media Thread

    In the near future, you find a small box. It is made of wood and its hinge has been broken, used for something more useful. You open the box and see a pile of photographs, they are old and most of them ruined to bits. You find a small note in the box too, here is what it reads. OOC Note: Images will come up when they become available.
  8. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    I do not want to sacrifice the mystery of my group and the possible things people will be able to discover about my group in character in our out of character group thread. The whole point of the thread is so that people get the message that this group is something people will have to learn about in character, a group people will have little to know knowledge of until they actually meet us. Spoiling everything in my opinion leads to bad RP in the future. As for the pictures and the layout yeah I guess I could add some more things. For the logo, I did not think that it'd be realistic for any group to have a logo. Why would we focus on decorating ourselves when we're trying to survive if you know what I mean. Our group takes survival very literally, as in we do not trust certain canned foods and we do not run around everywhere like Olympic athletes Diplomacy I do not see necessary either. Diplomacy exposes the opinions that should be kept ICly. We're not a government or an army and therefore all our diplomacy of everyone is that if they have guns and numbers, they can kill us, and that they must be treated with the utmost caution. We call most other groups highwaymen, marauders, bandits, etc. Hey, I appreciate this and was hoping someone would catch on to this groups inspiration. His novel is my favourite book and the movie adaption was excellent as well. I wanted to make something similar but when I was typing this I was trying to be somewhat original. I'm happy to see that someone recognised my references and will promise to fix some things up to make us more unique.
  9. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    Yeah dude it'll be nice to see you and your people in game!
  10. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    Haha thanks, yeah I'll be putting in some MP3 song thing today.
  11. The Road Walkers [Need People]

    Hey there thanks for the suggestion! The Road Walkers is a name that we thought about quite a bit. The name emphasizes how little the group members (ICly) care for flash or such things. Names should not worry them, they just would have thought of something quick and nailed it to their foreheads.
  12. [mp3]http://img.dayzrp.com/mp3/upload/56c34e987d34f.mp3[/mp3] We have walked and have no choice but to keep walking. Life becomes better, then it becomes worst. Food is plentiful, then it is scarce. There are times when we will laugh, and times we will cry. We are nothing but pawns for God now, left to suffer and be forgotten. These words have left many of us without hope. However for some of us, they keep us going. They keep our lives meaningful. Our lives do matter and if the world is left without us, the world will never know. [spoiler=Out of Character Lore]The Road Walkers are a group of refugees who have been moving southward to avoid the cold European winter as well as other things since the infection struck one or two (in character) years ago. The group of men originated when infected patients from parts of Russia began streaming into clinics and hospitals all over the large cities. The doctors thought that they could help the patients and bring forth a solution or a vaccine to the mysterious virus that was killing so many throughout Europe and the world. Little did these doctors know, by bringing in patients they were risking the lives of everyone in the cities. Eventually, many of the hospitals were placed on lockdown and parts of the city were no longer accessible to the public. People would drive past in their cars and be turned back by soldiers who gave no specific reasoning to turning back the citizens. Confused and scared, people took to their homes and watched the news on their televisions, ardently awaiting information on what was going on; information that would never come. On the fringes of the city, the suburbs, Sabath and his friends Felton, Ely, Abraham, Cain, Jim, Phil and Earl - along with their families, waited for news on their return flight to the United States of America. They were all from a small town called Oakcreek in the state of North Carolina. They best friends and had all been friends since school so long ago, where children would still swing on the monkeybars and the swings. Now they had grown up and started a oil and gas business out of their humble beginnings. Together the group of men had had success in the oil and fracking business in North Carolina and were very excited to hear that they had been invited to Moscow, Russia to help work on Gazprom natural gas and oil facilities in Russia. They had never really gotten out, their small business could only have taken them so far, but this, this was an opportunity of a lifetime - one that the group of men spared no time to accept. The group flew to Moscow roughly a month before things “went bad”, for their first few weeks they worked to improve Russian oil and gas facilities by working as advisors and supervising the operations of some of the piping and expansion projects for a facility outside of Moscow. They stayed inside the Mamaison hotel. It was modest and provided the comforts they all needed. The group was so big an entire wing had to be ordered out for everyone and their families. While the men worked on the gas and oil projects the rest of the families, who had come for the trip (it was initially a year-long project) explored Moscow and some parts of Russia outside of Moscow. http://i.imgur.com/tVgX2Ig.jpg[/img] After some time of being happy in Moscow, secure, the group began to feel… Confused. The group watched the television together as they heard the news that an outbreak of an unnamed illness had broken out outside the city of Zelenogorsk, Chernarus. Before then, none of them even knew Chernarus was a country at all - most people didn’t, this would change. The television talked about all of the strange events like bitings and what looked like the symptoms of rabies. The group was shocked, however it seemed so far away of a problem that they passed it up and rejected an offer by the American consulate to return to the states - an offer the men would regret for each of their remaining days following that day. Gradually the situation had deteriorated under the very noses of everyone in those few hotel rooms, there were now ambulances flowing in and out of the city constantly and the quarantine zone that had originated around the central clinic kept expanding. On his way to work, Sabath was turned back three times before he found the last open route to the eastern side of Moscow, Russia. It was about now that the situation had dawned on the group, and Abraham, who had organised the trip and made contact with the Gazprom, tried to get a flight back to the states booked. Because of high traffic at the time the next flight was not for another month. The group acknowledged that it was the busy time of year for the airline business and kept living out their lives, as everyone else was doing. Sabath woke up one day, he stretched as he got out of bed and put his dressing gown around him. He looked over his wife, Stacy, who lay sleeping like a gentle angel. He smiled, before walking out onto the balcony of the hotel room. “Hm, strange” he muttered to himself. The entire plaza was empty, there was not a soul to be seen on the street, on the road, anywhere. He was confused but tired and figured it was just early in the morning. Walking back inside, Stacy had turned on the television and was watching the news. They had found an English channel a few days into their trip and were able to keep up with everything that was going on outside through that channel. The couple watched the news, it was talking about an evacuation of Moscow. The news anchor was saying that the city had to be temporarily evacuated for the disease control units to disinfect any remnants of the infection that had lingered inside the quarantine zones of the hospital. “What should we do honey?” Stacy asked Sabath. “We gotta stay till tomorrow, our flight is soon and if we leave we won’t make it. Pack our things, we’ll get everything ready tonight.” Sabath said to Stacy. “I’ll go tell the others.” he continued. The others were all warned of the evacuation and had agreed to stay for one more night. That was to be their last night together in Moscow, their last night undisturbed and unviolated by the marauders, the-... Anyway, they had all gone to sleep that night and lay comfortable in their beds. The children slept soundly in their beds, ready to wake up early for their departure in the morning. That departure would come earlier than expected. It was about midnight when a bright light filled the entire hotel room, a loud explosion followed the lights and soon after, screaming erupted. Sabath got up, and looked out the window. Smoke, dust, ash. All he could see was smoke, dust and ash. What is going on? he thought to himself. He went to the television and pressed the on button, it did not turn on. The lights were not working either. Scared and confused, he awoke Stacy. Stacy got up and started screaming “What is going on?! Where are the lights?!” she screamed. She asked for her children. They were all oblivious to the similar screams that echoed from hall to hall, house to house, building to building, throughout Moscow. They had missed the evacuation and were responsible for their own fate. When everyone was awake, Sabath got everyone packed up to leave. They all left the hotel and began walking down the road at around 25:30, they were scared and afraid. All that filled their ears were the screams from behind them and the fires erupting throughout the city. Their cars would not drive on the road, the road was filled with vehicles that had piled their way miles up and down the road. The vehicle doors were all hanging open and their windows all cracked or broken. They navigated their way around each car and each truck down the road, carrying bags fit for boarding an airplane, not trekking down the highway. They were scared and afraid, shocked, confused. They walked silently, with nothing but the sound of the small wheels of their suitcases against the surface of the road to fill their ears. http://i.imgur.com/ki8mJMu.jpg[/img] The situation had gradually degraded and they were left with little hope of reaching home and little hope of finding salvation. One night, Stacy whispered into the ear of Sabath as they lay sleeping in the back of an old van saying “We should end it, Sabath. I can’t do this anymore.” she said to him. He turned around, shocked and worried “Stacy, what’re you saying?” he said. “I’m saying that I can’t just keep walking anymore, I can’t make him and her walk anymore, I can’t. I can’t bear it. Where are we going? What’re we even doing!?” she said to him louder. “Don’t scream, you’ll wake them up! We can’t do that, are you stupid? We have to get south and there will be help there. There will be a way to get home from the south, where it is warmer. Don’t say things like that Stacy.” Sabath said to her in a sad tone. Stacy felt sad and worthless. She was unable to help gather food from the cars and unable to give the children a better trip. The next morning, when Sabath awoke, he was alone. His daughter Pauline slept in the front seat and was sound asleep, but his son Abel who slept in the driver seat was gone. His wife was gone. Sabath quickly got up and bursted out the back doors of the van. The sky was completely grey, it had been grey for days now and was not stopping. The ash fell to the ground everyday and was slowly corrupting their voices, making them hard and rough as their lungs slowly died. The grey ash clouds that filled the sky made their eyes weaker, made their eyes hurt when the occasional amount of light was lit from a flashlight and shun in their eyes. Sabath ran around the road, looking everywhere. He saw no one. He ran up the road, towards an abandoned sixteen-wheeler truck that sat in the road. He stopped, silent. He looked up, a single tear escaping his eyes. His skin was so dry it hurt to have moisture running down his cheek. From the back of the truck, his boy hung from a rope, his head tilted right and his neckbone peaking through his thin skin. Next to him, Stacy too hung from a rope, only the rope had snapped at some point and her body now sat on the ground, her head tilted leftwards towards her son, his son. Their shoes had been taken, robbers during the night. They were still, silent. She had not even told him, she had not even told him she would take Abel. Why did she not take Pauline… Sabath fell to his knees, his mouth too dry to utter any cries for salvation, his heart too broken to find his friends to console him. He sat their for a full day. Refugees like them passed by the two hanging bodies like it was nothing, these scenes were everyday now as slowly more and more gave up on any salvation, any hope. They continued on that long highway for so long that they had to find a new pair of shoes to fit their rotting, broken feet, three times. Slowly, one by one, members of their initial sixteen gave up on their path southwards, towards “salvation” and either took themselves as Stacy did, or were taken by other refugees in the night. As the months went by they came to call these other refugees, the ones with weapons, marauders or highwaymen. They took whatever they could find, ate whatever they could find, and did whatever they needed to do to survive. http://i.imgur.com/cBtrxSv.png[/img] The group still continues now, their atmosphere has changed since then but their mood remains the same. They fear the return of the grey fog, of the bands of marauders. They fear the loss of friends and loved ones, they fear everything. Their lives are destroyed, their memories shattered, their lives dissolved into nothing. They continue walking down the road now, making plots and plans of their destination with crayons and old pencils on a shattered old map as they trail their way southwards towards what they hope to be salvation. And if there truly is no salvation in the south, where it is warmer, then they will continue anyway. For to continue absent of a goal is to sign your pact with the Devil, and await your delivery to him. [spoiler=In Character Lore] [spoiler=Handy Translation Tool]The clocks had stopped at 3:17. There was a long sheer of bright light and a series of low concussions. Before long there were fires on the ridges and the echoes of deranged chanting out in the distance. We think it is sometime in October, I am not too sure. None of us have kept a calendar in years. Each day our world becomes greyer and greyer than the last. For a long time the roads running south were populated with refugees moving towards the coast. They towed carts and wagons carrying food, water and shoes. Now the roads stand empty and all that is left is the silence and the ash. From time to time the gangs carrying weapons will move on the roads killing and eating what they find. The fires still ripple over the ridges, the dead still lie by the road waiting for their reaper, never to come. The fires burn every tree, crop house or man in their path. The fires are the only light that fills our eyes now. The light of God is far from us and we are left alone and finished. Sometimes we tell one another stories of a time with justice and truth. Now we are silent and wary of what lies ahead of us on the road to come. Following us the ash and the cold winds of the north. It is getting colder and colder and by night we shiver in our sleep and by day we freeze on the walk. Mostly we worry about food, always food. Food and the cold and our shoes. We had sixteen when we left, now fewer. Ely, Jim hanged themselves. They took their lives and left their corpses to be chewed up by the hungry road wanderers to the north. Cannibalism, cannibalism. It is the great fear. We run from the cold and the fires, but we also run from the hungry and the desperate. All men will take their fill if they have to. There are few now and more yet to fall by the road-side as we head south, the only direction left open to us. South lies the warmth of summer, far from the dead and the cold from which we hale. We are all eachothers warrant and that is all we know. That is what Abraham told us. He disappeared to faint memory, yet his words still echo through us even after he disappeared. If he is not the word of God then God has never spoken. We always think of death, suicide. Sabath carries just enough shots for all of us. Phil was killed and eaten by the marauders. How cheap life is in this world. As we head south the tides of death and destruction follow us, as the world descends into its winter. A winter that will see us all dead and eaten by its end, if we do not head south. It is funny to think that some time ago we were in Russia for the party. How life changes us. The groom and his wife now swing from the ropes of their bond in an old shattered barn deep in the snow and in the ash. Their parents and relatives lie either dead or eaten by now. We are what is left of it all. People speak of the infection that has brought death to the world, that has brought the end to it even. We heard or so no infection before Moscow. Only the sound of the explosions and the screams to follow. That is where we come from and that is all that matters. Refugees We are nothing but refugees. We think little of our ‘accomplishments’ and do not care to ponder on them. There is never time to think of the past. To think of the past is to deny the present. To deny the present means a man's life. We are men whose minds are filled with what we can eat tomorrow, or if we can eat tomorrow. Our minds are filled with the dead and those left yet waiting to die. We move south and we eat whatever we find on the way down. We have lost two to starvation, and yet more still. They rest in our minds from time to time. Sabath Warden - Eminence Felton Haywood - Jamzor Alex Romanov - Septimus [spoiler=Sabath] [spoiler=Felton] [spoiler=Handy Translation Tool]Sabath: I dunno why Ely had us write this horse shit bit I may as well. Name’s Sabath. I was born in Oakcreek, North Carolina and in the summer of eighty one I lived a good life, worked on the mill most days and went to school on the others. I dropped out at fourteen because pap wanted me workin’ more. So I did. Met my best friend Felton after I started working on the day and night times and we’re buds to this very day, I lie you not. Life was quite simple from then on, I married, had a kid, named him Earl. We live in a small cott’ down the road from Abraham and his wife Debra who never stopped screaming at ‘em. Hah, shouldn’t be thinkin’ of this shit or it’ll make me go nuts. I went to this bachelor party for mah bud who now swings on the ropes of death. We never knew he’d go that nuts… Anyway that’s me. Not like it matters anymore. Felton: G’day. I’m Felton. Born in Oakcreek, North Carolina. I was born near old Nicky’s farm on the fifth of November. In my time I was the best farmer in all Oakcreek. I had the most land and the most cattle too. I met Sabath from my wife Lucy. She was a lovely lady. Lucy, like me, was a good southern baptist woman. She knew her rights from wrong. Pity on her last choice about two years back she chose wrong. Sabath and I are buds, we do all we do together. Always have. Fish, hung, get girls. Always has been the same, me and him. He met that girl from down the street, married her. She won’t a big fan of God and got him all off track. Oh well. He never had too good of an education also, dropped out. I on the other hand stayed another year. Not much point in staying when ye can learn all you need from yer pap. Got here same as the rest, through the damn party. Daily I regret my decision to R.S.V.P., mmhm. 1. To move to a place that is warm and safe where we will not be harmed. 2. To find people that we can trust to help us survive (together). 3. To warn people about the north and to tell people to move South. 4. To find Abraham and others that have disappeared. I prefer to talk to each candidate and kind of figure out who they are and how they'd be able to fit into the group before doing anything at all so if it is no problem to anyone thinking of joining It'd be great for them to PM Eminence or Jamzor over the forums or alternatively just poke me in TeamSpeak and we can set up an out of character meeting and see if you'd fit into the group. We're a very harsh roleplaying faction, we like to walk over running/jogging on the road when in game, we are very cautious of everyone over being friendly, we are cautious of different, unusual foods and only pick up the foods we think we can trust. i.e. pristine, worn cans, etc. Additionally here is some information. We are not a military group, we carry very little arms, little more than a pistol and a couple of knives. We like to damage or ruin our clothing and our equipment to make us seem more rag-tag, survivor-y (in my eyes, I don't know about others) and we play with low gamma at night so we can have a torch each. Once again, we take roleplay very seriously and a good amount of our roleplay thus far is internal roleplay between our members.
  13. Yes hello. Here is my POV. I had escorted the prisoners from the initiation area and was just helping them move towards the castle. I was armed with a trumpet. I was kind to the hostages and tried to be diplomatic however someone was really not a fan of that and kept making oink noises and being disruptive. I threatened to shoot him if he continued but he continued and I did not because I'm pretty generous and kind. So yeah, we were all sitting in the castle interrogating the prisoners. I was just standing around doing nothing being kinda bored, I had my TS muted for the whole scenario. I continued to just hang out watching from the stairs going to the roof when suddenly the grenade went off. I was paying like 0 attention before that but when the grenade went off I was surprised and like "shit". I heard lots of crying, I think it was from the hostage who survived seeing his friends die in the blast. So yeah then I ran to the roof when I realized all my friends were dead and this guy with a blue cap and an FN-FAL tried to get me. Me, being a brilliant marksman, hit three shots at him from the roof and injured him while he played around trying to reload his gun. After like his third charging attempt he went up. Instead of going out like a soldier my character pleaded for his life in a quick "No please I surrender" but was killed by the guy.
  14. No reason to execute

    Yeah sorry misunderstanding, I just meant it was strange because the wrong logs were posted up of a different encounter.
  15. No reason to execute

    I don't think Cyril ever got hurt or endangered in this encounter, strange. Noo noo, this is a different robbery. Jamzor (Cyril) told me that these same people robbed and killed him the previous day in Chernogorsk in a separate incident. Maybe could you look further perhaps because Cyril was not harmed or endangered in this encounter?
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