I had lost hope on that cold, December day. If i had any bullets left, I would have shot myself. I no longer felt that this world was worth living in anymore. This world, full of bizarre humans infected by a disease without a cure. The few humans who still inhabited Chernarus were greedy bandits. I was alone without any food, water or warm clothing. My bones were creaking under the barrage of icy Siberian air from the north. My wound was getting worse. In fact, I hadn't even known it was there until I changed my pair of pants. Luckily, it wasn't a bite or scratch and the blood froze before it scabbed over. It now had a yellowish-green tinge to it and puss was oozing out. I had a strange sense of vertigo and I fell over onto the ground of the open field. How did I get here? WHERE was I? Is this what death feels like? I just wanted to sleep and my eyes were slowly closing. The last thing I saw was a silhouette of a human, or probably a walker.
I woke to the smell of a fire and roasted meat of some kind. The cold was no longer present in my body. In fact, I felt a strange sense of peacefulness on top of this soft bed, covered by blankets. "You are lucky," someone spoke to me, "Your wound is infected and in that cold, your immune system cannot handle it." His voice was deep, yet peaceful and calming. His accent made me think he was from the Caribbean somewhere. "I did what I could, but without proper medical supplies like antibiotics and sepsis bandages, you may lose the leg." My heart skipped a beat. He continued: "If we can manage to find some antibiotics, you should be safe. But a storm is coming soon and my people fear that those who journey out will not return." I asked where I was and how many people he had. "Enough to put up a fight to anyone who seeks our supplies, and our location is not important. For now, you are safe. My name is Kenmore by the way." For a moment, we just sat there, sipping warm tea he had prepared. "Brendan" I told him. He stood about 6-foot 5, strong, and dark-skinned. He told me to rest for now.
In 3 days time, my wound had nearly healed. Luckily, my immune system had fought off bacteria and disease. I decided that it was time to stand up and stretch. It felt good to rise and move around for the first time in 4 days. Feeling confident, I placed my feet in my sneakers, threw on a coat, and peeked outside. The sun blinded my for a moment, but soon my eyes adjusted and I saw that this compound was more elaborate than Kenmore first mentioned. 5 hut like buildings formed a semi-circle while the other side was blocked by a large gate. Chain-link fence, plywood, and various other durable materials enclosed the entire area. A catwalk covered most of the fence and guards carrying hunting rifles patrolled them. In the center of the compound was a large table under a tent. Several camping chairs were setup around it. On the table sat several documents and a large map of, I assumed, was Chernarus.
Kenmore stood at one end of the table, fists clamped on the table's edge. Three more men stood around the table. Each wore similar garb; a balaclava covering their entire face, tall tan boots, and grey camo suits. They didn't look like they were here for the friendly service, so I decided not to approach. My deep thinking was interrupted by a rather peppy girl. She looked a little younger than I did, but she acted like she was 12. "Hi, I'm Dianne, but you can call me Dee." I told her my name. "Nice to meet you, Brendan. If you need anything just yell out, My cabin is that one." She pointed to the closest one to the entrance. I thanked her and she ran off, carrying a pile of firewood. Finally, after 5 minutes, the three masked men left the compound. I heard the roar of an engine come on and slowly fade out into the distance.
"Those were just some of the threats we face out here." Kenmore told me when I reached the tent. He continued, "Some just want our supplies, but most are just looking for targets to waste their rounds on." He pointed to an area on the map near the coast. It was a rather large city, probably the largest one in Chernarus. He told me it was Chernogorsk, the capitol. "Now it is home to the largest clan in this country. We tried trading with them, but always asking for more than what they offer never leads to a good partnership." I had the feeling there was more to the story than just that. "What exactly happened?" I asked. He stared blankly out, sipped some coffee from a mug, and finally spoke. "We had a run in with each other. Our group was out scavenging for supplies; berries and other edibles. We were unarmed, but they still took us. For what seemed like two weeks, they held us, barely keeping us alive. Finally, they released some of us. When we left, the only thing they said was that we were to keep out of Chernogorsk, or our friends would die, meaning the ones they hadn't freed. We still plan on making an attack and releasing them. I lost my son in that attack."
In the following days, I learned Kenmore was a great leader. He listened to his people, made good decisions, and showed respect for everyone. We became good friends. We talked about our past lives. "I used to be a janitor at Grantley Adams International Airport. Can you believe that? Barely made enough to eat a meal a day. So when this apocalypse hit, I wasn't too angry about leaving Barbados. I jumped onto a departing ship, and I ended up here." He pulled out a picture of a woman standing next to a child. The child was holding the woman's hand, both were smiling. "This was my family, ten years ago." I knew his son traveled with him here, but He hadn't told me about his wife. But before I could ask, he asked me what I did before all this. "I worked as an aerospace engineer for Boeing, their division in New England." His eyes got really wide for a minute, and he stood up. "I need to show you something, and I believe you can help us."
Kenmore and two men led me out behind the compound. We were following some sort of path, nothing too obvious, but signs that people had been there. About a mile down the trail, stood a large hangar. It had been built out of scraps corrugated fencing and metal sheets. Most of it had been spray-painted green and brown, to disguise from any prying eyes.
"We found this at an old airfield, long abandoned. That is where we gathered most of our weapons. The army is long gone, but their supplies are still present. This is our largest and most valuable discovery." He opened the large hangar. Inside sat a massive helicopter. A Merlin HM1. "Wow, that is one big discovery. It is a medium-weight cargo and anti-submarine helicopter, introduced in 1999. Does it work?" Kenmore introduced me to one of the men now. "This is Robert Cranson, our vehicle technician." Robert shook my hand and told me his thoughts. "It seems like the fuel tank is busted, and the electronics aren't functioning, but I am no expert and there is only so much I can do." I approached the helicopter, the front glass had been smashed and the main rotor assembly was dented beyond repair. I sat in the cockpit, inspecting the controls and avionics. Luckily, the engine still seemed to be in working order, and the rotors themselves were fine. "Well, it needs some work, but if you can get the supplies, I can have it running within a week." I made a list of everything, and a description of each. "This is a lot of stuff, but we can try." Kenmore told me, handing the list to the second man. "Dan is going to get a party ready and head out tomorrow morning.
Following this story, I think having a small settlement that trades with various clans, gathering supplies, and basically surviving will only contribute. You are probably saying, well we already have enough of those, and you are right, but this settlement will be different. The members of the settlement will act as a council, overseeing projects. Secondly, it will be more of a village. Think of it as a polar tribe barely surviving, but still following their beliefs and traditions. Like in the back story, Brendan, the main character, meets these people, and they take him in. This will apply for anyone in need of help. Of course, any place that has supplies and warm clothing will be under attack by bandits. That is where the council will come into play. They may elect to send out a group of fighter, if need be, and exterminate the enemies. Or they may try to work it out without a loss of life. The settlement, ideally, would be located between two mountains in a valley, surrounded by forest. The front of the settlement would be sloping downhill. The picture I have attached is the first plan, but of course is subject to new improvements or ideas.
First of all, it has a significant backstory. Not only have I included a detailed diagram, but also described how the camp will work. It will require teamwork and man power to control the compound, and this will be good roleplaying. We can have various jobs; cooks, council members, militants, and just everyday villagers who can farm, hunt, or scavenge for supplies. There are just so many possibilities that can come from this village.
Any suggestions or comments are appreicated.