Kerwyn

As much as bandits and people who kill on sight frustrate me, I've come to a realization. They are a part of this game just as much as the Zeds and the guns are, to meet that challenge, that every chance encounter might be my last is the true endgame for me, and to surpass it gives me the same rush the victory music at the end of a level in Super Mario Bros. did. But when I fail, when I get shot and die and must start again, yeah it's frustrating, yeah it sucks, but it's just like back in those old school days. This game and it's players are unforgiving, you can never expect the same thing twice, and it will punish you harshly for every tiny mistake, but I keep coming back for those brief moments of victory. When another survivor and I manage to aggro an entire town between us, then end up taking cover in the same two story barn, laughing to each other over the irony of the situation over the crack of gunfire and the moans of angry/dying Zeds, that's a victory. When I drag my broken body from Pustoshka to Cherno in order to find the one morphine shot I need to survive, and then make it, victory. Ambushing a survivor while he reloads and yelling for him to surrender, my heart going a million miles a second as that brief pause before I hear a terrified, "friendly!" stretches out for what seems an eternity, and afterwards trading some supplies and intel before going our separate ways, victory. Everyone measures success in different ways, some measure it in days they stay alive, others in their kill score, some idolize the quality of their gear, and few noble souls keep track of how many lies they've brought back from the brink. Me? I count stories, Whether it's helping a friendly survivor, surviving a tough fight, or getting sniped from 1100 metres while scoping Berezino with my new range finder (Whoever made that shot, I saw you on the hospital, and I saw you shoot me, you may not have killed me, but the fact you hit your target at that range on the first shot is frigging impressive.) These are all notches on my belt. You sir, seem to have come to a realization that your kill count is not what keeps you playing this game, and are in search of a reason, I wish you luck in finding it, and if I ever see you in game, I hope we get to trade tales.

I've been in your position (I learned the hard way why you should never use the CZ550 in a town). I dragged my butt out of Pustoshka on a broken leg, 2 rounds left in my AKM, and 412 blood. On my own, passing out, I dragged myself into the trees, found a boar, got my blood up to where I was no longer passing out, found a cow, got colour back into the world, then dragged myself all the way to Cherno, where I managed to find a morphine shot to get me back on my feet. When I told my buddies on vent what condition I was in, they all advised just crawling into a zed and ending my misery, I said to hell with that. This was five days ago, I am still alive to tell this tale. In closing, remember, the game ain't over until it tells you you're dead, and no matter what shape you're in, there's always a chance to come out stronger.

My best story comes from the Grocery store in Elektro. It was early in my current life (14 days and counting) I had found Jesse (My trusty AKM) in a hunting stand, and in the hospital in Elektro I had found antibiotics. I had just moved into the back room of the grocery store when I heard a makarov go off outside, and someone running into the building, I could tell from the shots that they were taking cover by the shelves out front, so I went prone, crawled behind the coolers and counted his shots, when I heard the eighth go off I stood up, pegged the last zed in the chest to drop him, and levelled my sights at the survivor, literally shouting into direct chat that if he was friendly he'd better say so and put his weapon down. His voice was so shaky I think I scared the crap right out of him, and he actually put his pistol on the ground for me. felt bad for scaring him like that, so I asked if he needed any supplies. He said he was hungry and thirsty, so I tossed him a can of beans, a pepsi, and a spare water canteen I had picked up only minutes before. He thanked me, and asked where he could find medical supplies, I pointed him towards the hospital, and we both ran back there, once he was patched up (I gave him a transfusion as well) I gave him some pointers on avoiding bandits and sent him on his way, making sure he went well away from my desired exit to the city. In the apocalypse, I can't afford to be trusting, not even with someone who was so obviously new to this world. But it felt good to help a fellow man, I just wish I had been able to help the next guy I met, who I was forced to shoot because he pointed his winchester right at me. I didn't know he was out of ammo until afterwards, poor sucker didn't even have a bandage, I felt terrible, but those are the decisions we are forced to make.

I generally avoid contact, unless it's a split second thing, (Ie. when I'm looting a building and I come out of a door into the barrel of whatever gun the equally surprised survivor is holding). When I do make contact with another player, it is because I either have no other choice, or I have the upper hand. That being said, when I am not forced into a position where I have to take the shot, I try to be helpful, but I keep meetings brief. The last player I made contact with was because we both aggro'd a crap tonne of zeds and just happened to take cover in the same two-storey barn. He took one staircase, I took the other, and while we were shooting the immediate threat, we both called friendly, We laughed at the circumstances, I saw he was bleeding, so I dropped a steak I had cooked earlier on the ground while he bandaged himself up, he thanked me, and asked me if I needed anything, I told him I was fine, just a little short on Makarov ammo, and he dropped me two clips. Neither of us stayed long, He asked to group up with me, but I declined, I do better on my own, but I gave him directions to another barn and a deerstand and we parted ways. We may have been friendly, but I haven't survived two weeks straight by trusting anyone, he might have trusted me, but I had my gun trained on him from the second my last zed was killed, until I saw him disappear over the horizon.

I will probably be laughed at, but my AKM is my pride and joy. I picked it up within five minutes of spawning at a deer stand Northwest of Kamyshovo, and been using it for thirteen days now, the worst scrape it ever got me out of was shortly after I picked up a CZ550. That was my first (And currently only) scoped weapon, so I put my AKM in my bag, and was carrying it around when I raided Pustoshka. I was in the supermarket, and saw a hopper wandering around outside, so I thought to myself, "Ah, what could it hurt, I haven't shot this rifle yet, and that hopper's the only zed I see." So I took the shot. 45 zombies later (And those are just the ones I killed, I was able to lose a few before I got fully cornered), I had 412 blood, a broken leg, and only two bullets left in my AKM, the CZ I had ditched after it ran out of ammo, and I had burned through the ammo in my 1911. in that state, I managed to drag my sorry arse out of Pustoshka, find an M1911 with two clips, a box of matches, and a cow. I am currently still on that life, and I am still using that AKM, I won't trade it in for anything, and I call her Jesse, (Yes, in honour of Zaeed).

My saddest moment happened at the Balota Airfield, I had just scanned the top floor of the ATC, found a frag and some smoke grenades, but nothing too fancy, as I'm getting ready to leave, I hear a shot go off, I drop prone and move for the stairwell, listening for bullet hits or any indication that the shots were fired at me. I hear more shots fired and they seem to be coming from the hangar. so I poke my head up above the window and see a survivor with a winchester popping zeds out front of the closest hangar. He looks like he's getting overwhelmed, so I run downstairs and sit by the corner of the hangar he's in and use my AKM (I love that rifle) to give him some breathing room, once the zeds are dead, I lean around the corner, and see him just on the other side of the wall, I aim, and over voice, ask, "You friendly? I can help you if you need it, just put your gun down." I call out to him three times, he doesn't respond, I'm about to give up and just make my way out of the airfield when suddenly he turns towards me and shoulders his gun, bad move when my AKM's on full auto aimed for your chest. I put five rounds into him and killed him, when I went over to check his gear, I saw he had no ammo left, and didn't even have a bandage on him. I felt absolutely terrible, and still do, but this is the vicious world we live in, where you can't trust anyone, and your life rests upon those split second decisions of kill or be killed.

You know, I don't normally encourage banditry, but this is frigging hilarious, +respects (Also, yay for first post.)