S1ippery Jim

Morphine has a low percentage chance of spawning in most areas unless you head to med tents or hospitals where you are highly likely to find some.

I've heard reports of friendly people being sighted, but like Bigfoot I fear they are just DayZ urban legends. Personally, I saw a guy the other day who didn't see me and was heading in the opposite direction so I chose to let him live. I suppose that makes me friendly?

If you spawn at kamenka or nearby head north above the town quite close there are three deer stands relatively close together for military loot with very low risk. Balota you can go to airfield and military camp quite close for good gear and high risk of getting shot.

You actually raise a good point. In order to use the hatchet as a melee weapon, you need to keep 10 slots free in your backpack if you want to keep any other primary weapon you already have equipped. Otherwise you will have to drop your primary gun on the ground and pick it up later. Personally I'll probably just go back to using the hatchet to chop wood unless I get desperate and run out of ammo in my guns (or have no other weapon if I respawn)

Hmmm...I just killed a bandit in Cherno med tents with my Winchester after he shot some dude right nearby me...he happened to have NVGs and a SAW...not you by any chance???

Yeah I also find it funny to watch two players with trains running towards each other. It's almost worth a bet on which ends up with the most zombies when they cross trains... For those saying it is easy to lose a train, I would say that yes, for an experienced player it is relatively easy, particularly if you can find a building, however most experienced players would not get a train in the first place. However I would say for anyone completely new to the game, getting a zombie horde chasing you with only a torch is an almost guaranteed death sentance right off the bat.

Negativity? What Negativity??? I personally have a throbbing man crush on Rocket :)

He's just baiting people for responses.. Which you just gave him. Killing fresh players aint so bad, you're only wasting maybe 5 mins of their time, as well as teaching them a valuable lesson, perhaps even giving them a chance of their next spawn being more favourable, and sans zombie train. killing well equipped players who have been surviving for weeks and have killed hundreds of zombies and or dozens of bandits or players means you are flushing their days and weeks of hard work down the gurgler. But kudos to you because they no doubt had some heavy weaponry and equipment. But that's the game. Everyone dies, its just a matter of when and how. Nothing is right and wrong, within the boundaries of the game (Hacking and exploiting is another story)...

pretty sure thats old. confirmed locations like this since the latest vehicle update are nice. only one i know are real on that list is the first bike spawn it mentions Green mountain often has vehicles inside the gate of the tower complex

It is super buggy, it seems every update (or hotfix) introduces even more bugs than it fixes. I still love playing it, but I must say it is super frustrating to play for literally days and get a lot of great equipment the hard way, then get killed by something like opening a door in the barracks and crushing yourself to death. In real life, no one would ever kill themselves due to opening a door and crushing their own body with it - I don't even think it would be physically possible. Absolutely no game could ever be released to the public if opening a door crushes you to death. This kind of basic thing should be fixed before any new features are added, in my opinion.

And exactly which historical precedent are you basing this confident assumption on???

7970 has issues with DayZ, I run the same card with an i7 and have had some issues eg white grass/shrubbery had to turn of anti aliasing to fix, and still get occasional issues that you describe as 'needles pushed through all of it' eg trees with specks of white sometimes (eg when running). With latest update I have also been getting strange graphical glitches when turning. I don't overclock and GPU is not overheating. I have no idea how to fix, other games run fine

Ep 11 Ep 12

If you've ever been camping you know that you don't need any tool to chop trees to gather wood to make a fire

What Forfeit said: Pick up other items in loot pile and then it will let you take the backpack.

Yes I agree it is too easy now. The Zombies are also very glitchy, sometimes after you 'hide' from them you can walk past them without them noticing you. I walked around Cherno all yesterday without worrying about Zombies, however got attacked three times by other players (one shot at me with a Crossbow, lol!). Thats why you still need a gun.

FYI Survivors are immune to the infection, according to Rocket

Based on my first experience of playing 1.7.1. All of this happened, exactly as described, except the backstory. As dawn’s first light glimmered on the Eastern horizon, I awoke to find myself lying face down on a remote beach. The sand was cold and damp beneath me, above was a cold and starry sky. For a moment was bewildered. Then I remembered. Somehow I had survived the fire and the terror of the night before, swimming desperately for the distant shoreline, away from the rapidly sinking wreckage of the 747 which had been meant to take us to the safety of the airfield in Chernarus. The plane had made it to within sight of the coastline before the co-pilot had manifested signs of infection and had gone berserk, stripping the cabin crew of their clothes and then eating their faces. Snarling like a rabid dog when others tried to intervene. The pilot had had a heart attack from the terror and no one knew how to stop the aircraft from plummeting towards the sea… I did a quick check of my possessions. I had managed to pull my travel pack from underneath the seat in front of me before plunging headfirst down the emergency chute when I abandoned the wreckage the night before, however it was empty except for a small yellow flashlight that I had shoved into it without thinking – I had been using it to read a Walking Dead comic so that I did not disturb my sleeping wife. My wife! She was nowhere to be seen. I had to find her; perhaps she was injured and lying somewhere up the coast. I quickly stripped the sleeve off of my shirt and shoved this into the pack to use as a bandage if the need arose. I noticed a small box of pain medication in a side pocket of the pack which I had packed for the persistent migraines from which I occasionally suffer. These may also be of use. I set off up the beach, keeping the sea on my right hand side. If this was Chernarus, I knew that my best hope lay in finding help from the friendly inhabitants of the capital city, Cherno, which lay somewhere along this coast. I prayed the infection had not reached here. This plague, which had spread like no affliction mankind had ever seen before had already infected almost everyone I knew back home. The infected became something…something else other than human. They suffered constant internal bleeding, a degradation of mental faculties, some lost the ability or the will to stand erect, crouching like apes, some even slithering along the ground like snakes. Worse though, every one of them became vicious, murderous. Worse stories said that they attacked people, that they preyed upon us like wild beasts, ripping at our flesh with their hands and teeth. These stories were no doubt exaggerated, but my wife and I had decided to leave the city and head north to Chernarus where it was said to be infection free. As I walked I pondered the wisdom of our decision. I came to a headland with a small pier leading out into the water. A lighthouse with colourful red and white stripes loomed above. Its lamp was dead, staring out at the dark sea like a blinded Cyclops. As I looked up at it I stumbled. Picking myself up, I realised with horror that I had stumbled over a body. I got out my flashlight, and rolled over the huddled form. The pale beam of light shone onto the face of a person I knew. It was a fellow passenger, I recognized him from the plane. His name was Henry. I remember this because he had been in the check in queue ahead of us when we boarded, and his wife had been constantly hectoring him about having not packed enough canned food. He had protested that he had packed cans of beans but the authorities had confiscated them along with the handguns that some people had tried to bring aboard. I had made a joke about it to my wife afterwards. Henry was face was red and purple from morbidity, but his skin was wrinkled and ghost white, almost translucent from immersion in the sea. A small crab scuttled from his open mouth and ran across his chest. Horrified, I stepped away. Behind me I heard a low chuckling sound, I stood up. The chuckle became a growl. Coming over the sand dune towards me was a creature, once human, wearing an odd outfit consisting of a beret, a yellow plaid shirt and brown trousers with a single leg swathed in bandages. The creature snarled - flailing its hands wildly as it ran towards me in a crouched and stumbling run. Despite its awkward looking gait it was incredibly fast. I stumbled backwards. Panicking I hurled the flashlight at the creature. It bounced off the creatures back with little effect. I turned and ran. My terrified flight led me several kilometres north, yet despite the fact that I ran without stopping, fuelled by terror and adrenaline, the creature never stopped coming. As I ran I came across several bodies, most laying on the sand, some frozen by rigor mortis in a curious standing position, some with flashlights held in front of them as if to ward off the eternal darkness of death. Pursued by the creature I could not stop to examine them, but I know that my wife was not among them. Eventually I came to a wharf and ducked behind some shipping containers, stifling my hoarse panting as best as I could. I could hear the creature howling to itself from somewhere behind the container, but it did not know where I was. Relieved, I got down on my belly and crawled carefully away, heading for some nearby small buildings. I crawled inside the first building I came to, a small shed. On the floor among some tin cans and empty whiskey bottles was a hatchet. I picked it up, it might be useful. Clearly the infection had spread to Chernarus as well. I had to have a means of defending myself from that zombie like creatures. As I wondered what to do next a loud noise made me jump. It was a church bell ringing in the distance. The Church of St Rocket in Cherno! Perhaps my wife had made it into the city; she may be looking for me there! The idea of reuniting with my wife gave me hope and filled me with a fierce desire to survive. I peered out of the shed in which I was resting. I could see now that there were dozens of creatures shambling around the buildings on the outskirts of the city, milling listlessly, as if they were drunk. I knew better. These were the infected, the undead. Zombies. I would have to make my way into the city without attracting their attention. Crouching, I quietly made my way out of the shed and under a nearby fence. Following alleyways, hopping over backyard fences, keeping hidden in shadows and doorways, I eventually made my way into the city. The church was only two blocks away now, its pale walls painted a pale orange by the beginnings of a sunrise, its golden spire looming into the dawn sky like a beacon of hope and sanity. Across the road I noticed a small store. I had no food or drink, and last nights in flight meal had been meagre. I decided to make a quick detour to find some supplies that I could share with my wife. Entering the store cautiously, I noticed to my dismay that the shelves had been emptied, the contents ransacked. As I scrabbled in the junk on the floor I found a few items that I could use. Some chemlights. A water bottle. Something metallic scraped under my boot. I looked down. It was a small pistol. I picked it up and examined it. It was a Makarov, but had no ammunition. I decided to take it anyway; perhaps I could find some ammunition for it elsewhere. As I prepared to leave the store I noticed movement behind the counter. A man stood crouched behind the counter, with a backpack on his back, carrying a crossbow. Perhaps this was the owner of the store? Feeling guilty that I had taken the items, I made a peaceful gesture, forgetting that I was still holding the empty pistol. The man neither moved nor responded to my attempt at communication. As I moved to leave the store, a sharp twang sounded and something pierced my side, through the fabric of my backpack. The man had shot me with his crossbow! He must have thought me a bandit, carrying the pistol. Unable to defend myself with an empty pistol, and unwilling to brutalise the man with my hatchet, I turned to run. The noise of my flight attracted several of the zombies in the street, who immediately became aggressive and turned to pursue me. I didn’t look behind, but I imagined that my attacker would have to deal with the Zombies before he could think about pursuing me. I ducked into a large red brick building and took cover in one of its rooms. The zombies chasing me seemed to become confused and did not know where I was. In the brief moment of respite, I frantically scoured the room. I needed a weapon! The first room had nothing other than a can of Mountain Dew. I quickly moved across the hallway before the zombie which had entered the building could notice me and looked in the next room. Magazines for my pistol! I slammed a clip into the pistol and turned off the safety. Quickly turning attention to my wound, I wound my makeshift bandage around my chest to stem the trickling blood, but on examination the wound was not serious. I darted out the back of the building as I heard confident footsteps at the front entrance. Circling around the side I peered around the corner and saw the man from the store enter the building, his crossbow held in front of him. Quietly I came in behind him. As he turned to enter the room which I had searched first, I aimed my pistol at him. My hand trembled. I tried to tell myself that this person had tried to murder me without provocation only a few minutes ago and would surely try again. He was clearly stalking me with intent. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times. The man fell to the floor of the hallway, unconscious, perhaps mortally wounded by my bullets which had struck his belly and legs. Two zombies, shrieking like banshees, came in the back door and started to tear at his body. I could only watch in horror, frozen. The man suddenly came to and began to scream in a high pitched, terrified voice. I suddenly realised he was only a young man, a boy, really, perhaps 17 years of age. Trembling, sick at what I had done, I knew I had to end this. I carefully aimed at his head and pulled the trigger again. The shot rang out and the screaming stopped. I left by the front door, too numb to care about the zombies. Eventually I made it to the next block and pushed my way through the huge timber doors into the church. I sank wearily down next to the alter. My wife wasn’t here. I had been foolish thinking she would be. I knew it likely that she was on the beaches somewhere with the other bodies, but this thought could only lead to darkness. I put this out of my mind. I would survive. For her, for Henry, for the boy I had killed across the road, I would survive. The zombie infected would not claim this man. With renewed determination I decided my next priority was to arm myself properly. Searching the church I noticed another pistol, with two magazines of ammunition lying between the pews. I seized it; it was an M1911, much better than the Makarov. However a pistol was not going to last long, especially if there were bandits, the kind that had looted the store. I might need something with more range if I was to survive for long. I had been to Cherno once before while on vacation, and knew that there was a fire station to the North of the city, perhaps five blocks away. There would be useful items there that would help me survive. I set off. Darting between buildings and crawling through bushes and overgrown shrubbery, I eventually made it to the fire station. The doors were open, no fire engines were inside. With a sense of growing paranoia, I decided that walking blindly into the building could be a death sentence. This would be a prime ambush location for the unwary. I examined the building. A small fire escape ladder on the south of the building led to the roof, where there was a tower. I decided to climb up that way and see if there was an entrance from the roof. As I climbed I felt as if there were eyes on my back watching my ascent. Eventually I made my way to the roof. I crept across to the tower. There was nothing there but some magazines of ammunition for what looked like an assault rifle. I couldn’t quite see what was on the floor below, so I climbed down a second smaller ladder to a lower roof area next to the same tower. At that moment a man came up the stairs inside the tower. He saw me, and his eyes widened. I heard a voice cursing in fright; reaching for the shot gun on his back he shouted “don’t shoot!” however I was already pulling the trigger of my M1911. Four shots cracked out. The man fell down the stairs, bleeding from several wounds. I knew he was dead. I climbed down from the roof and made my way cautiously inside the fire station. The man had been alone. I searched his body half-heartedly. He had some clips of ammunition which I took, some Pepsi and cans of food. Road flares. Bandages. Morphine. I took what I could fit in. I also took his backpack which could hold more gear than mine. I also took his shotgun. As I came down from the tower I saw in a corner at the foot of the stairs an assault rifle. It was an AKS. I seized it, dropping the shotgun, and found an extra magazine of ammunition for it. Feeling better prepared for survival, I decided to head for the apartment buildings to the North of the fire station. We had rented an apartment here on our holiday here, and I knew I would find more supplies there, perhaps more food. As I left the fire station I decided that instead of going around the corner I would take a stealthier route, crawling under the wall surrounding the station and crossing the railway tracks. As I bent down I wormed my way under on my belly. As I looked up, preparing to pull myself up from the ground, I was shocked to be staring down the barrel of another man’s AKS. He must have heard the shots fired and come to investigate. Some detached part of my mind calmly noted that it differed slightly from mine in that it had a Kobra sight fitted to it. At the same time I seized mm M1911 (my AKS was strapped to my back). The bandit fired several shots into my prone form, but not on full auto, perhaps he was trying to conserve his ammunition or perhaps he did not have enough left. The bullets drove through me. The pain was intense at first, then, although I was still conscious, I felt nothing at all. I rapidly fired my M1911, faster than I thought possible. The bandit tried to dodge to the side, but I rolled and kept him in my sights. Finally there were no bullets left, and the gun clicked uselessly. I was no longer able to hold the weapon in any case, and it dropped from my nerveless fingers. The bandit was dead, fallen next to me. As I lay there, beneath the wall next to the train tracks, the first rays of the new day rose over the hills to the north. In the distance I could hear the zombies were coming, many of them. I am sure the sunrise was glorious that morning, the last morning I ever knew, however the colours had faded from my vision, leaving the sky painted in shades of grey and white. I had a sensation of looking down on my body from above. Detached. Serene. Then I was back on the ground. The darkness crept in from the edges, bleeding into my head and making it impossible to make out shapes or forms around me. I was dimly aware that my body seemed be shaking, or being pushed and pulled in many different directions. I smiled. As the darkness claimed me for good I knew that all hope was not lost. I would soon be with my wife again.

Yes I had one just the other night for a brief moment until someone snuck up behind me and shot me with his double barrel

Crowbar? I like it - very Gordon Freeman

I don't know what you mean Rocket, there are watches everywhere, hooray!!!

If melee is put in DayZ I imagine it would work something like; Select G to open inventory. Right click hatchet, Select "Melee with Hatchet", [Error: You need to be standing next to a Zombie to melee with Hatchet], (moves closer to Zombie) Select G to open inventory. Right click hatchet, Select "Melee with Hatchet...[player begins lengthy melee animation]...Zombie breaks legs, eats face, You Are Dead, cue violin music.