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Server time (UTC): 2021-09-25 22:28


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22 h Friendly in Cherno

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  1. Levin's a quick thinker. Responds well to feedback and criticism and is usually approachable depending on the activity they're working on. As a US Marine, specifically as a Sharpshooter. He was quickly raising up in the ranks until he hit a snag. He follows orders well until those orders conflict with his agenda. A few undesirables sent to an early grave landed him with a dishonourable discharge. Many years later, he was approached by a budding military contractor looking to form a team to go places no other ordinary person would go. Seeing his opportunity to get behind the scope once more. After living on the streets for a while, the chance of getting money in his pocket and a roof over his head is more than welcome. He took that opportunity and ran with it. During a highly paid mission in the middle of nowhere, him and his squad were made aware of an unknown outbreak. An infection of some sorts. They were sent in to clear the area only to find themselves surrounded. Levin, however. Was on a rooftop providing fire support. His squad received fire from all directions and were quickly killed. Levin had no choice to abort the mission and flee for his life. conveniently, radio communications were not running on this operation, they knew the risks... Another couple of years later, stranded in the wasteland with just himself as company. He wandered, freely. Keeping himself low and surviving on the basics he could scavenge. Nothing was out there. A lone road he walked, far from civilisation. Running low on supplies he was lucky to find his way back, on foot. Unintentionally to his dismay, to the place he was shipped out to. An old dock, now laid abandoned. Everyone was gone and there was certainly signs of struggle. He considered looking for someone to ask but his lack of food and supplies was most important. Upon entering a warehouse to scavenge, he saw something distressing. People. But no, these were not "people" people. These were monsters, snarling and wheezing. He drew his pistol but something clicked, how many of these things are there? - Keeping himself low he secures a boat, running on what ever fuel was left and sets his sights on the horizon... or what ever is left. A storm sweeps in. Knocking his stolen fishing boat all over the place, he couldn't hold out for long. He tucked into the sleeping quarters and braced for the worse. Just as the ship's engine coughed out it's last breath, a wave crashes hard into his ship. Leaving nothing but a wreck. unconscious and cold, he drifts on a small rudimentary raft, he awakes to find himself in Alta on the coast of Norway. Making his way up the land, after gathering his bearings to some degree. He now realises that the sea not killing him was a case of bad luck. The lands he now walks are filled with the same monsters he saw in the wastelands earlier. With barely any ammo to spare he wades through the harsh lands, avoiding the hordes of monsters. Following the only road signs that are readable. "Nyheim." The road to Nyheim, safety.
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