sachad

Incidentally the exact same video convinced me to buy the standalone. And the Ridin' Dirty video from the mod. That never gets old.

Real Survivors Don't Use TeamSpeak

Heh, one time I wanted to say "On the ground!" but instead I yelled "Don't shoot!" I don't like shooting people until I've at least tried to reason with them. If then they want a fight, they'll get it. And if I see people in 'bandit uniforms' I just duck for cover and run.

NPCs would just get shot on sight like the rest of us.

Well, it was your typical encounter with trigger-happy kids. I approached the base from the north, searched the first of the two barracks, then as I run towards the second I get shot at. I empty an SKS clip on the attacker and kill him, and as I'm checking his body I hear his three buddies coming from the command post. Some back-and-forth shooting happens, then I run out of ammo and as I try to run away I get shot in the legs, so game over. Unconscious + broken legs = handcuffed. Then after telling me I killed their friend they asked me if I had any last words, so I said "Tittysprinkles." They laughed, and for a moment I thought my dry wit had saved me, but then I hear a final shot and darkness fell. The end.

You know the feeling, you're casually exploring some random town, expecting to be alone, until you run into some clear evidence that someone was there earlier. An empty water bottle in the middle of the road, a pile of assorted random junk, a lit flare/chemlight, ... You stop instantly and dash to the nearest cover. And then you have the evidence of crazies and your heart just stops. Just today, I was doing a nighttime sweep of the NWAF, found nothing but zeds on the east side of the runway, then decided to double back up on the west side. I creep through the bushes when I see a greenish light between the trees. I stop at once and peer through my AKM scope. The shed south of the little barracks is lit up like a christmas tree. Chem light, from the look of it. A trap, surely, or just some prankster messing with my head. After five minutes of checking for movement, I decide to risk it. I speak out, "Anybody in there? I'm friendly if you are." No response. I say again, "Come out unarmed and I won't shoot you." Nothing. So, I swap my AKM for my sawn-off and burst inside. I found nobody. What I did find, was somehow even more frightening... The smaller of the two rooms is littered with motorcycle helmets. Not one or two, or even three. Twelve. And the books. Another half dozen of those, and then some random stuff like a compass, a flashlight, a hammer, ... I am getting weirded out. Who the hell does this? And more importantly, where are they now? My paranoia grows. I decide to check the other room, where the light shines from. Again, my heart stops. In the eerie glow of the green chem light, I see a splitting axe and an ashwood bow. I look closer. Three machetes, used heavily. Some duct tape and rope, handcuffs without keys. More helmets. A branch snaps outside, and I panic. I take out my AKM and cry out, "Whoever's out there, you don't scare me!" But I know better. I know the truth. I have stumbled into the lair of a cannibal killer. He hunts with primitive weapons, finding those who wear helmets, and takes their heads. I know the severed heads are still inside the helmets I found, I don't even have to look. My boast goes unanswered. I decide I have spent enough time in this site of human madness. I dash to the small barracks further ahead. I creep around the little building, carefully watching and listening. Nobody is inside, so I go in. And that is where I found it. The earthly possessions of the cannibal's victims. From end to end, the barracks is littered with clothing, weapons, rotten food and equipment. I even find an SKS and a Blaze rifle, along with a P1 and a 1911. Backpacks, some with items still inside. More sets of clothes than I care to count. It stinks in here. I am having trouble breathing. I have to leave. Run, run far away and never look back. I feel I am being watched... Forget the snipers, forget the bandits. The real terror of the Airfield lurks in the trees...

I'll never forget my first hostile with a Sporter. You could almost see the desperation in his eyes as he realizes it takes more than two .22 rounds to kill a man. Sadly, there was too much axe in his forehead to see his eyes properly.

Thanks! I'll try to do one of these whenever I have an interesting/funny/scary encounter.

Would loot-cyclers drop twelve helmets and six books, an axe and a bow and three machetes? This wasn't a random pile-up... This was a deliberate act of intimidation...

Nope, just a plain old regular server, the same one I usually play on. This didn't look like dupers, all the helmets were of various color and condition.

Partially? It all happened, from the helmets to the pants-shitting terror! I almost logged out even after finding the helmet shrine, but curiosity kept me going. Good thing it didn't get me killed.

Aye, someone told me they only spawn at long barracks. But, last time I visited that base, violence happened and I ended up handcuffed and executed... Bad memories...

Cowardly is just another word for smart in this case. I don't have the patience to be a sniper, so I just focus on middle and close range while my sniper buddy stays on overwatch. Teamwork, friendo.

Stab vest, got ruined by zombie punches. 75 round AK mag, got lost while reloading because I didn't have room to stash it Longhorn, lost after getting killed Press vest, lost after getting killed Looking for the elusive AK101 now, since I have 3 protector cases full of mags for it. Should probably dump them, but you never know.

Got shot in the back of the head by a girl I was trying to help when bandaging myself. Lesson learned: never give anyone a loaded gun, even if it is a P1 with 1 chambered round.

Got shot in the back of the head by a girl I was trying to help when bandaging myself. Lesson learned: never give anyone a loaded gun, even if it is a P1 with 1 chambered round.

It's probably been suggested before, the addition of more clothing, but most ssuggestions seem to be for actual useful gear. I'd also like to propose the addition of useless but amusing clothing. Things like tuxedo's, fancy dresses, coveralls, traditional Russian clothes, Hawaiian shirts, sombrero's, flip-flops, stuff like that. They'd have very limited use towards survival, but man, just imagine running into a dude in a pristine black tuxedo. You wouldn't know what to do. Is this guy crazy as hell or just devoted to looking mint all the time? Maybe you see a woman in a bloodied up wedding dress, or a group of guys looking like they took a wrong turn to a frat party. Making them all but useless for survival also ensures that Chernarus doesn't become overrun with Dead Rising characters, but that the nonsense stays confined to a small number of people. Just like in a real apocalypse scenario, I'd dare say. Some will cope, some will thrive, others will just go under from all the pressure. Such things might actually even be useful in the game too, to differentiate between serious and less serious players, or even bandits and heroes. I mean, see a guy in a tux and a gas mask wielding an axe, chances are it's best to not go and talk to him.

When I get my tuxedo I am so going to axe-murder all these thread-jackers.

When I get my tuxedo I am so going to axe-murder all these thread-jackers.

No offense taken. 'tis the Internet, after all.

Well, I didn't say I wanted this stuff now. Obviously the important stuff needs to be done first, but does that mean I can't suggest it already?

Will we be able to carry little chihuahua's in our improvised courier bags?

Call it Mountain Dude, the refreshing drink for the Apocalypse!

Pretty self-explanatory... It'd be fun to have the ability to use your gun/sidearm as a makeshift club if you run out of or want to conserve ammo. Plus it'd be massively satisfying to pistol-whip people into submission.

People watching is fun. Mostly you just see scavengers, but if you're lucky you get to watch encounters. And if you're really lucky, you get to watch 3 guys chasing each other around a field with pitch forks until one is left standing.