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  • Birthday 02/07/1997

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  1. Dallas Proctor is a former Search and Rescue tech with the Canadian Armed Forces. Joining the Army at a young age after working as a wildland firefighter, he went through rigorous training with both the Canadian Army and elements of the US Military to become a pararescue unit. After 2 tours to Afghanistan during 2006 and 2007, he was deployed to Chernarus in 2009 during the height of the civil war with a humanitarian contingency of the Canadian Armed Forces, where he was apart of a UN operation in recovering mass graves and identifying victims of genocide by the Chedaki. Dallas remained stationed in Chernarus with NATO forces following the war until being deployed subsequently to Takistan, again apart of a humanitarian contingency with the CDF's peacekeeping mission. He and his squadron were assigned for humanitarian logisticals, delivering supplies and aid to villages affected by the conflict as well as manning field hospitals. Dallas' division returned back to Canada close to the conclusion of NATO's mission to Takistan, where he spent a few years re-adapting to civilian life, coping mainly by working for Search and Rescue in his home province. It wasn't long before the CAF would be re-deployed to Chernarus along with US Forces, with World War 3 being on the brink, Canada deployed all of it's reservists to assist their Southern ally. Dallas' division was deployed again for relief, but this time much of the division was equipped with NBC gear amidst the breakout of the virus in Chernarus. Dallas had spent many years trying to forget the atrocities he witnessed in Chernarus prior, during the civil war. However, he found himself filling mass graves instead of unearthing them this time around. As the short deployment carried on, the situation became more and more hopeless, until Chernogorsk's stronghold was overtaken by the infection. Much of Dallas' squadron and division perished during the final stand. However, him and a handful of other soldiers deserted due to their disagreement of liquidating many "assumed infected" civilians, and left Chernogorsk's base of operations. While his initial intentions were to try to help civilians left in the fallout of the infection, his good morale has diminished as the days go by. He now wanders South Zagoria, struggling to keep his morals and, like almost everyone else, find a new life in a bleak, dying world.
  2. **Konrad's radio sat next to him as he sharpened his buck knife. He sighs, and picks up his radio, pressing down the PTT.** **He speaks in fluent Chernarussian Tongue, but has a subtle English accent.** "Americans and Westerners aren't people I'd be afraid of in South Zagoria. There's other types of people who have worse intentions.. and they didn't come from overseas, they're right next door. Chernaruski or American, doesn't establish who is good and bad in these parts." **He releases the PTT button and sets his radio down, sitting back infront of his campfire.**
  3. Early Roots Born in Novodmitrovsk to the consecutively late Alena Justýna, and his father Conway Čeněk, a Cherno-Canadian originally from Yellowknife, Canada, Konrád's wicked life would have shared no grace for him from day one. His mother died immediately after birth due to complications, leaving him to his withdrawn and over-principled father, as well as his mother's extended family of primarily mobsters, thugs, and more-so, ultra-nationalist corroborators. Being the only child, he was closely guarded by his uncles and aunts. His father worked as a logger further North, and was rarely home. Even when he was, he was not the most fatherly type to K.C, which ultimately left him in the hands of his late mother's family for most of his early life. Much of his mother's side of the family were young, and working class, with not many older peers who were still alive or who had bothered to stay close to the delinquent, troubled family's ties in the Chernarussian mob, as well as their ties with what would later be key figures in the National Party. Thus, he was no stranger to the underwordly antics and extremist ideals his uncles corroborated in. He resided primarily with his uncle Arnošt, who took up the responsibility of being a father figure to him. Being a more discrete, mature member of society, he protected K.C from falling into the same delinquency as the rest of the family by getting him into the hobby of hunting, and outdoorsmanship. Arnošt did his best to steer K.C in the right direction, but still did not shelter him from the hand that would inevitably be dealt due to the hot water his family is in. Arnošt himself was not clean-handed, and was an arms smuggler for what was then the Working Man's Defense Alliance. However due to his family's nationalist ties, he soon became a smuggler for both, something that would ultimately cost him, his family, and K.C, something dearly. Early Years - A New Life K.C had lived a promising life despite the circumstances up to his teen years. He had A grades in his district school, and was an electee for the Chernarussian State University, and was hoping to take a major in geological studies and horticulture, with ambitions to eventually get into forestry, mostly in part due to his time spent in the wilderness and his father's similiar upbringing. His father made strides to be apart of K.C's life, which was heeded by his uncle Arnošt under troubling circumstances. And when K.C's father and the rest of his family became aware that Arnošt had been collaborating with both the ChDKZ and the National Party, the family was now split apart, and was a target to both sides. This prompted K.C and his father unexpectedly moving to Conway's place of origin, the Yukon Territories. Specifically, Yellowknife. More respectively, buttfuck nowhere. It all begun making sense to K.C, which would trouble him for a long time. Arnošt's drive to get him into the outdoors, keeping him closed off from his family, his father's sudden change of heart. Arnošt and his father had both also made it necessary for him to learn English, as well as Canadian history. It was all planned for the inevitable downfall. Starting a new life in Canada, forced to leave his family behind, K.C became immediately estranged from his father. He had dropped all of his ambitions of forestry and majors, due to the flat out scarcity of such in Yellowknife at the time. He resorted to working at a mill, where he became a millwright like his father Conway. Living on his own only knowing that he has to reign over his own life, it would be years before the political brinkmanship of Chernarus would eventually lead to war. The reality of this coming to K.C much sooner than the rest of the world. May 8th, 2008 K.C would be getting ready for work that morning, it was like any regular day. By now he would've been adapted to his life in Canada. While he had frequently recieved letters from his uncle Arnošt, he hadn't recieved anything in the following months. His phone rings. It's his father. "Hello." His father's voice is raspy, as if he has been crying. K.C has never heard his father cry. Even after all that had happened, he never thought he had it in him. "K.C. I know you don't like me calling you, but .. I figured- I figured I needed to let you know." K.C was caught off guard, knowing something was wrong, he put off his usual nonchalant dialogue with his father. "..Dad? What is it?" ".. Arno is uhh... well, Arno is dead.. Everybody back home is.. uhh, well they're in trouble." His father's voice shakes as he struggles to say this. K.C would stare blankly at his wall, sitting on his bedside. While he felt like he should be shocked, he had soaked it in by now that this would've caught up to him in some shape or form eventually, no matter how far he was from it. ".. What happened." His father musters the strength amongst his shock to continue. "Someone murdered him. The police aren't investigating.. apparently everyone back home got into some bad blood with the wrong people. A whole bunch of shit is going on K.C- I, I don't know what to do." His voice strains, becoming angry. "This happened fuckin'-.. 3 months ago. I just got the letter from your uncle Bogdan this morning, I don't even know when he sent it-" "I'm going back. Whether you're coming with me or not." K.C interrupts, calmly, despite being brought to tears in person. His father breathes coarsely over the phone, before letting out a deep sigh. "Do you understand what is going on back home, K.C?" K.C is pensive for a moment. "I've known what's been going on back home for a long time Dad. I know everything Arno told me, the life he tried to pave for me, all of it, was to make it easier for me to get away from this. I know you know that too. I know that you knew this would happen all along. It's just the hand that's been dealt." His father interjects starkly. "Then you know you can't go back. You don't want to get wrapped up in this, you don't have to! Arno did this for you. I did this, for YOU!" "You didn't do anything. You just kept me in the shadows, because it's the only thing you could do." K.C is quick to respond. This time, he struggles to say it out loud. A tear streams down his face. He sighs deeply. "I'm going home. Whether you like it or not. You can't stop me." "K.C just think for a moment, please! - you can't even get-" K.C hangs up the phone. It was time to go back home, was all he thought, regardless of what awaited him there. Instead of putting on his workboots and coveralls, he grabbed his dufflebag - the same bright green, white outlined yellow star bearing bag he had with him on the way to Canada - his passport, and started packing. 8 Years Later. Sitting in a rowhouse in Miroslavl, smoking a cigarette while staring at a mandatory evaluation notice on the table infront of him. Following the outbreak and his return to Chernarus, he was intercepted by the Chernarussian government upon his return to Primorsk 8 years prior. His own family had killed his uncle for corroborating with the ChDKZ, and he had been blackmailed into ceasing to come into contact with his remaining family, whether they were dead or alive. Now on a government watchlist and prevented from leaving the country, K.C had nowhere to go and nothing to lose. He had spent the past 8 years up until the outbreak and the cordon of South Zagoria as a smuggler for contacts within South Zagoria with close ties to his uncle Arnošt, having believed that his family was blackmailed into corroborating with the ChDKZ and ultimately killing his uncle. He operated in and out of South Zagoria. With word of ChDKZ remnants on a head hunt, he had no choice but to abandon the relative safety of the C.R for the uncharted remains of South Zagoria. He now operates as a guide and a navigator for other survivors within South Zagoria, finding a new life to live in the remains of Chernarus much like everyone else, he still aspires to piece together what went wrong all those years, and hopefully seek out who was behind all of it to start.
  4. **Overlooking a clearing, he shakes his head and curses under his breath at the reply. He hesitates for a moment, before pressing the PTT button.** "Got it, stay safe out there." **He releases the PTT button, grabbing his rifle and continuing his hike.**
  5. **Now receeding into the woods, he adjusts his sling to his rifle and grabs his radio again, pressing the PTT button.** "Russians and Muslims, huh. Been through this neck of the woods for a day and shit's already gone awry." **He releases the PTT for a moment, looking back towards Berezino. He looks back up the hill he's heading up and speaks through the radio again.** "Do you need help? I'm no medic, but I have bandages and a blood bag. I'm O+." **He clips the radio back to his pack and keeps hiking it.**
  6. **Watching from the woods outside Berezino with a rangefinder, Konrad grabs his radio from his belt and presses the PTT. There is sporadic gunfire almost immediately in the background of his transmission.** "Any idea what is going on down there, and if it involves the CDF?" **He releases the PTT, and continues to watch the hospital through his rangefinder.**
  7. Trooper

    Feeding Chernarus - Food for All! [Open Freq]

    **Sitting in a hunting stall with a cigarette, Vadim neatly organizes the contents of his tortilla bag, several cans of food sitting neatly organized infront of him. He looks at them silently for a moment before grabbing his radio from his vest, pressing the PTT button.** **He speaks with a raspy voice, with a subtle Chernarussian accent.** "Good evening. If you are still on this channel, I have extra canned goods that I do not need. If you are still in or around Krasnostav, I can drop by and donate them to you." **He releases the PTT and slips the radio back into his vest, pensive as to what he just said silently for a moment, before he goes back to doing inventory.**
  8. Trooper


    Thanks! Hope to encounter you folks eventually.
  9. Trooper


    Appreciate it. Good to know text RP is an option, thanks!
  10. Trooper


    Hey there. Been playing for a little bit now, so far it has been a lonely, isolated experience but that only makes me more stoked to meet you folks ingame, whether it be being robbed by bandits, chased by an axe wielding maniac, any press is good press in my opinion. I'm fairly new to DayZ, and this server has really given me the chance to figure out the game's quirks and mechanics because I haven't been killed on sight. It's nice to have a good head start. Just a question. I can't really use my mic that often because: I don't have a functioning mic (I have one, but it requires me to bluetooth through my phone as my laptop's output hardware isn't working for some reason. Hard to explain but I doubt I'm the only one.) I live in a single bedroom apartment with a roommate. Needless to say, I don't want to be a bother talking all the time. You know how it is. Is there any pet peeve against relatively quiet characters on this server? I understand it is harder to make intentions clear without full dialogue as having clear intentions is absolutely necessary to engage, but I could make it work. Thanks, hope to catch you folks on the flip side.
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