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Server time (UTC): 2019-06-26, 03:16

Sacralegend

Gold

"What whiskey won't cure can't be cured."

  • Content Count

    27
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  • Country

    United States

TIME PLAYED

287 h Bean Bandit

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12 Newcomer

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  • Whitelisted YES
  • Last played 3 hours ago

7 Followers

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  • Sex
    Male

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  1. Sacralegend

    Capital Vices (Strict IC Recruitment)

    Love the lore and graphics good luck!
  2. Sacralegend

    Fallout Thread

    The eyes of mighty Caesar are upon you. He admires your thread and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark. Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time. My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands.
  3. Nikolai would light a cigarette from a match, covering it so the wind wouldn't blow out the flame. "My story you ask for eh?... Very well. My name is Nikolai Lubovya. I was born in the city of Elektrozavodsk in this great country." He would take a drag from his cigarette and hold for a moment, before releasing it. "My father's name was Ivan, he was an industrial worker." He would pause for a moment and stare blankly until finally snapping out of it. "That is not what he was known for though. He was a retired policeman that spent thirty years of his life keeping those streets in order. He was a tough man, I grew up being regimented in anything I did. Some may consider this to be a bad thing but me? I do not. It kept me in line... I also had plenty of friends that I could sympathize with since most were the children of my fathers retired police colleagues. Life was good for many years, with regular direction and lashings my father made me into the man I still am today." He would look down and see the cigarette in his hand burned shorter and some ash had fallen onto the slacks of his Chernarussian Police Uniform. He would slowly and carefully brush the ash off making sure to do no permanent damage. His concerned look at his uniform turned to a prideful one when he had made sure it was pristine. "When I became a young man of course I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps. I applied to become part of the Chernarussian Police and went through vigorous tests both physically and psychologically. Of course I passed, a lifetime of training seemed to work in my favour for this. He chuckles and puffs his cigarette once more, exhaling the smoke slowly the slight joy the chuckle brought him seemed to disappear. "I was stationed in Zelenogorsk, away from my father, my friends... my home. I protected that town for over 15 years and it was not easy. The war was tearing the country apart and even though we didn't have to worry about invading armies, the politics of it all was turning families against each another. A man would beat his own brother to death in the street over a political disagreement, a mother would disown her own daughter because of the man she fell in love with... I was a policeman. I was not there just to protect the peace, I was there to protect the community, and our community was being torn apart with every passing day..." He lets out a sigh and there is a moment of silence. "None of all that matters now. Once this infection broke out there was panic on the streets and Zelenogorsk turned into a warzone. Freaks came and ate any person that would be stupid enough to be caught walking the streets and when the military came in to town they did not care who they were shooting down... An important piece of humanity died that day. For a while it seemed like no one was human. People would rob, kill, maim, torture and eat each other... People gave up on the Law, but I haven't." He pushes the cigarette against the sole of his shoe, putting it out then dropping it on the floor as he stands up "I will not betray the ideas my father taught me. As long as I am alive I will not let us forget order, peace and justice, no matter the cost." He stands proudly and gives his uniform one last check, before tipping his cap and walking towards the horizon, where the sun would be rising.
  4. A totally enjoyable day of RP with the boys doing Gang Shit! @Joah, @Korvus, @RenegadeSabot, @jaystilla, @Spikey, @Dman and of course @Jorrdan Versock and @tosstheball for finishing the night off in style.
  5. Sacralegend

    Mafia Boys

    Pictures of the Mafia boys doing Gang Shit
  6. The only solution I could think of is a system like a lot of games with micro-transaction cosmetics have, where when you're spawning in your cosmetic items it would paste over your current clothes and change it to be the cosmetic, but still have the same stats as the original shirt you had. I just don't know if that's possible in the DayZ engine?
  7. I was kind of just being dramatic to make a point lmao. I wouldn't ask for a refund either to be honest. I think a character's outfit should be just as important as his back story, all characters I created I've thought of what they should wear. All these articles of clothing are available in store. I totally agree that to avoid abusing it the clothing shouldn't have 42 slots like military clothing, but they should have the standard amount of slots for clothes you can find after 5 minutes of searching. If I look even barely I can find a shirt with 30 slots, hell I'd even settle for 20 slots as if it's a hoodie. But 6 slots would be totally ridiculous, like I stated above would feel like you're being punished after handing over a lot of money.
  8. If I get punished by not having AT LEAST the average pocket space after spending 7 dollars in the store then I'd want a refund pretty quick to be honest.
  9. I can see how it might make people play on Server 2 more rather than just queue to get into Server 1. It also adds to annoyance to people who play in groups with bases who have to keep opening/closing their game to avoid the UI glitch while trying to join Server 1, considering their base/group isn't on Server 2. I feel like the annoyance outweighs the solution in this case.
  10. Sacralegend

    Chernarus Trade Federation ( Open Recruitment )

    Love RPing with you guys, group page looks solid. GL to you
  11. Born in Nashville, Tennessee on the 2nd of September 1985, little Richard always dreamed of becoming the most famous NASCAR driver in the United States of America. If you asked his pops he'd tell you it was 'cause he was born in the back of a Ford Bronco going 150mp/h on the way to the hospital. Whatever the reason was, it seemed like Ricky was destined to speed as by the time he got to drivin' age he would speed through the streets of Nashville, fly through the Great Smoky Mountains, Soar over the Tennessee river and before long at just the age of 15 he would find himself training for professional NASCAR driving. It would be a long and tedious process to train to be a NASCAR driver, but Ricky knew he had to be the best, it wasn't going to be easy. But as far as the other amateurs, Ricky would often feel like a Bull in a pig pen, more often than not embarrassed by how bad he would beat them, but soon after his embarrassment was put the rest when he was chosen to be a racer at the professional NASCAR level. Ricky began to travel around The Carolinas, West Virginia, Iowa and of course Tennessee participating in all races and of course coming out on top. Life was good for this man, but just as Ricky thought he had achieved all he wanted to achieve he got word of a new Cup that would give him the esteemed Sponsor of A-1 Steak Sauce. Ricky was determined. He trained day and night bringing in any resource he had on hand to train him for this challenge. Of course, after many races and many trying times, Ricky Roberts was the recipient of the Charm Cup and given the A-1 Steak Sauce sponsorship, what an honour. Ricky went on to race for many years, staying on top and becoming a respected figure in American popular culture, but for some reason he was never content with this. Ricky wanted to do something big, he just wasn't sure what this would be. After a family vacation to Russia where he was surprised that people seemed to recognize him and surround him for photographs/autographs he knew exactly what he must do. Ricky Roberts would bring NASCAR to Russia. Ricky definitely wasn't familiar with Russia, which was a problem as he felt his familiarity with Tennessee helped him in his NASCAR domination in the States. Ricky knew exactly what he would do; he would take his vehicle and drive it all across Russia, it may take years, but he would do it until he could navigate Russian roads like he was driving to the gas station to fetch some jerky. And that he did, Ricky started in Moscow and drove North, all the way to St. Petersburg, then south along the Slavic border countries, until he reached Krasnodar. By now, Ricky had gathered quite a bit of attention in Russia and back home in the States, so it wasn't unusual when he turned up in a town for the people to be there waiting for him. However his blessing turned out to be a curse when he left Krasnodar and as he turned a corner a large bang came from below deck and made him lose control of his vehicle. Ricky crashed into a pole and totaled the car. Totally disorientated, he stumbles out of his vehicle and barely gets to his feet, taking one good look at his beautiful NASCAR. A tear formed as Ricky looked mournfully at his once beautiful vehicle, but his silence was interrupted by foot steps coming from behind him. Ricky turned quickly 'cause he had reflexes like a cat, but could only catch sight of a man dressed head to toe in green army gear with a mask on launches the butt of his rifle into Ricky's face. He awoke in the back cabin of some military vehicle that was unknown to him, surrounded by green men. "Look who's waking up over there", one of them says. "Well howdy there fellas", Ricky says as all men turn their heads to him. "I would say it's a pleasure 'ta make 'yer acquaintance but I dunno if that's particularly true". The men just look at him, not saying a word. "Well, I'm guessin' by the accent y'all must be Russians-", he is interrupted by the laughter of the men. "Russians? You're calling us Russians?", one man retorts. "Well I crashed outside a town in Russia, so what am I 'ta assume?". "Have you ever heard of Chernarus?", one of the green men asks. "Naw, can't say I have", Ricky says while looking around at the men. "Well," one man says, "It's a little country south of where we picked you up, you are a famous man Mr. Ricky, we think our cause could use a man of your notoriety." Ricky looks past the men to a small window on the side of the vehicle and sees the motion of passing trees. "So are we in that country now?". "Yes, we are, in fact we just crossed the Russian border and we're somewhere south of a little town called Krasnosta-", the man is interrupted by an even louder bang than before as the vehicle they are in is thrown and flipped violently. Thankfully, one of these nice green men broke Ricky's fall so he wasn't hurt too much, as he looks up he notices a hole in the vehicle big enough that he could squeeze through. Most of the green men looked unconscious or worse by now, but Ricky noticed a few of the men trying to regain consciousness so he darted for the hole and began to squeeze his way through. Ricky falls from the vehicle and shoots up quickly, looking around him. He sees a lot of trees, and a small country road. Suddenly movement comes from the trees across the road as men begin to emerge, so Ricky turns the other direction and sprints into the trees, moving as fast as his little southern legs would carry him. Ricky didn't have much to go on as far as information, but he knew that his mission still stood; he had to bring NASCAR to whatever country he was in.
  12. Sacralegend

    The Mafia (Open Recruitment)

    He learned this because when I heard the initiation drop I ran out of the base to the bushes on the hill and was on the radio giving Joah information on locations etc. No meta.
  13. Ruhakana Kyambadde was born on the 2nd of September 1976 in a small village to the north of the city Gulu in Uganda. As a young boy Ruhakana was taught how to farm, hunt, gather and generally live off the land. He was also taught how to defend himself in case he or his village was ever attacked. Life was simple, but life was good. For years Ruhakana's life would be repetitive until the night of the 27th of May 1987. As Ruhakana was falling asleep he began hearing loud cracks and bangs followed shortly by the panic and screaming of his fellow village people. Ruhakana jumped for his hunting spear as it was the only weapon nearby him and opened the front door of the hut, running outside. Outside, he seen his father holding his hunting rifle in his hands while his mother cowered against an unfinished wall nearby. "Father, what is happening?", Ruhakana calls out. His father turns with a panicked expression but as he locked eyes with his son the trace of a smile began to come to his face, but before any other words could be uttered his father is shot in the back of the head and quickly falls to the floor. The screams of his mother filled the air as Ruhakana ran to grab his father but was not able to catch him before he fell on his face. In a fog of anger and rage Ruhakana pulled the rifle from his dead Father's hands and swung around to face the direction the shots were coming from. Seeing the movement of men dressed in military gear, Ruhakana began firing as rapidly as a bolt action would allow, hitting most targets that would present themselves to him. Sadly, he would quickly experience the repercussions of this action as he sees several men emerge from the huts in that direction and aim automatic rifles towards him. They fire, while Ruhakana jumps to the floor to avoid the bullets. The barrage continues for what feels like forever, until it finally stops and Ruhakana takes his hands off his head, flipping around on his back. An action he'd soon regret as he turns to see where his mother was once sitting instead he sees a body, totally stained in red, laying lifeless. Ruhakana begins to tear up but his attackers give him no time to grieve, as they all surround him aiming guns and screaming obscenities. Before Ruhakana can even react, one of the men take the butt of their rifle and slam it downward, knocking Ruhakana out. Shortly later, Ruhakana wakes up in some sort of makeshift pen filled with children just like him. Ruhakana walks through the crowd of crying children and up towards one of the sides of the pen. There he peers through only to see a soldier staring right back at him. They look at eachother for just a moment before the man roars "What are you looking at?!". Ruhakana is shaken but never breaks eye contact, he simply asks "What are you going to do to us?". The man smiles, as if the child's pain brings him joy, "Well my boy, today is a proud day for you. You are going to be trained to join the army of God under our Prophet Joseph Kony". With this, life seemed to get pretty repetitive again, only this time it wasn't hunting, farming and gathering. Instead, it was combat training, strategical training, Guerrilla Training, operational training, firearm operation and maintenance, Religious Indoctrination and often a beating or two. Ruhakana hated being there but learned to cope with it as he wasn't sure what he would do if he were to escape. Through this intense training Ruhakana and the other children formed unbreakable bonds as brothers and learned to fight and fend for themselves and the rest of their family. Ruhakana would particularly excel at maintaining, assembling and repairing firearms so he was given the nickname "Tinker" by his brothers. After many agonizing years eventually Ruhakana earned his way to become an equal with the soldiers of the "Lord's Resistance Army". As such, Ruhakana would participate in many operations through Uganda, South Sudan, The Congo, Chad and the Central African Republic. These operations varied in work as Ruhakana would find himself fighting against many different Organisations including the UPDF, SPLA, CAAF, The UN and USAC. Although all activities didn't necessarily have to be against one of these factions, sometimes Ruhakana would commit murder, abduction, mutilation and child slavery of his own accord. Ruhakana also began to train his own child soldiers, treating them as his children and the children would treat him as their father. This would go on for many years as the group caused chaos in the area until 2013, when the group officially fell apart as Joseph Kony went into hiding in South Sudan with a select few soldiers at his side. The army's body was left to fend for itself without it's head and was quickly picked apart by all of it's enemies. Ruhakana decided it would be best if he began to move north away from any group that may have him arrested or executed. He made his way through Somalia, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Turkey stealing, killing, fighting and doing whatever he had to do to survive. It was hard to survive and keep going without his brothers at his side, but Ruhakana learned to keep going regardless for many years. In 2017 Ruhakana made his way into Georgia to help out a militia he had heard about in exchange for a place to live. They welcomed him to the cause and put him to work instantly. Life seemed to be normal for a few months, until he was tasked with retrieving weapons in a deal made with Chernarussian militants. He took a boat from Poti, Georgia to the port of Chernogorsk in Chernarus. This turned out to be a big mistake however as shortly after arriving in the country chaos had broken out with infected people attacking anyone they would see. Ruhakana was trapped in the country, but he had done this a dozen times before, he had to survive.
  14. Sacralegend

    Increase Server Slots To 100

    I would totally support making the cap around 70~ or lower ... I have noticed myself as the player count goes past 60 the server gets laggier and less stable.
  15. Born in Berlin, Germany in 1977 Erick Von Falkenhaen was born into a high-class family. His father and brothers were all illustrious men who owned mining companies and the like but Erick never took interest in the conventional. At an early age, Erick enlisted to join the German army and became a highly trained soldier. Erick travelled around the world, meeting many different kinds of people, killing them too. After many years of fighting he decided to retire from the military and begin to fight for any private military groups that would hire him. *Unfinished - will write more soon*
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