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Server time: 2018-07-19, 11:59 WE ARE RECRUITING


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About McMourning

  • Birthday 11/02/1981
  1. The sky is a clear blue, one lonely cloud floats serenely above the landscape, drifting on an unseen wind. A weary looking man is sat under the boughs of a tree, checking over his clothing and the items in his bag with care. Occasionally he looks up and out over the landscape below as the Sun begins to set. He takes a few large gulps from his canteen, frowning he tips it over, the last few drops falling to the ground. Sighing he puts the canteen back in his bag and rummages around, finding a piece of paper, he pulls his pen out of his raincoat and begins to write. “I met someone today, well, I saw him first. I was scavenging on an old airbase when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I’m not sure why I approached him, I think I was on autopilot, maybe two weeks of being on my own is too long. Anyway, I was careful, got my shotgun ready, finger on the trigger. The poor guy! Some deranged maniac sneaks up on you, pointing a shotgun in your face! Turns out he’s from Sweden, I guess I’m not the only foreigner trapped here. His name was Floki, he helped me scavenge for a bit and we talked. Turns out there are people to the south; some are trying to get out of here, although Floki seemed to think the chances of getting out of here and back to the UK are slim. He didn’t say as much but I could tell it from the way he spoke.” He looks up; the Sun is casting an orange glow across the horizon as it sinks slowly down. “Meeting Floki has got me wondering; what if we were wrong? Maybe the world hasn’t changed all that much. What if there are other people out here like me? Maybe bandits and rebels aren’t the only people living here; should I just accept my fate and try to make a home here? Forget going home to the UK? I think I’m going to head south and try and find out, it’s my best chance of rescue and I think I need other people or I’m going to go crazy, or worse.” Nick looks up and watches as the last of the Suns disc disappears beyond the horizon. Standing, he slides his bag onto his shoulders and, facing south, with the orange sky to his right, sets off with a renewed strength in his pace.
  2. It is night and the rain pours down heavily outside, the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder punctuating the darkness. In a deer stand on the edge of a wooded hill a man snaps a chemlight, curls up against the wind and begins to write… I came to Zargovia as an independent journalist at the start of the infection, foolishly thinking I could find my big break into the mainstream. The government took my passport when they began the media blackout and left me to my fate. I’ve been trapped here for months now and can see little hope of escape. Some of the few locals that have survived here have been kind to me; showing a helpless journalist how to survive, staying off main roads and scavenging supplies from towns and villages. I’ve even learnt how to hunt and discovered I’m a pretty good shot. Two days ago we were raiding a village on the south-east coast when we were caught by a large herd of the infected. I’m having nightmares of my friends being torn to pieces, dinner for the dead. I keep convincing myself that all I could do was run, there were too many of them, that my friends would want me to live. The shame of my survival while I left the people who treated me as one of their family haunts me. I miss their smiles and their laughter when the night draws in and the only company I have is the light of my campfire. I’ve headed north-west, across country – there are too many rumours of bandits on the road to risk more direct routes and I have been lucky, finding supplies in abandoned farms and villages. I already had a break action double barrel for hunting and I’ve now found a device which means I can reload in half the time. But I’m on my own now and with bandits on the road I needed something to defend myself. I risked raiding a fairly large town and found a .357 Python (the famous one in all the old school cop shows) with some ammo. If bandits find me they’ll have a fight on their hands. I haven’t seen a single soul for the last two days and I’m starting to wonder if I ever will. I heard shots close by twice yesterday, once at an abandoned airfield and another in the town nearby. I’m not ashamed to say it, I ran. Even if they weren’t after me I’ve seen first-hand the kind of trouble noise like that can attract. Is there anyone left out there like me? Someone who just wants to live? I’m going to keep moving, keep scavenging and living off the land. I’ll keep checking my radio and keep my eyes open for any sign of decent people. I’m writing this note so people may know who I am and my story, I’m going to keep it in my jacket. If you are reading it, then I guess I didn’t make it. If there is any way you can get news to the UK, please tell my family I love them and miss them every day. But for now, I just want to live. Nick Williams. He looks out into the darkness and begins to cry.
  3. Just got my whitelist application in so I'm dropping by to say hello. Hoping I see you on the servers.