DayZ Stories

[speca 193]

Shit you went into detail and it was entertaining. Beans for you!

[jingled@hotmail.com 86]

Thanks. And if anyone is wondering why he called me "Raptor Jesus", that is because of my FaceBook page (http://www.facebook.com/Raptor.Chesus) in which usually get a bunch of my fans together so we can play a game together, lately it's been mainly DayZ. :P

Internet wannabee self promoted "stars"...

What you said, who are you?

[brandon_warmus@yahoo.com 0]

Good story Bro. but just a story and didnt actually happen. You can Tell if you look into the details you gave and didnt give

[DazTroyer 227]

Beans man

[topsm 11]

a tear shed for those who died...

[V2_Danny 48]

(This is a story of my first time in namalsk, part one is located on page 80, this is part 2. The story is completely bound to what happended in the session, but liberties have been taken with details, for enhancement of story.)

I wipe the slimy axe in my pants, and clear the blood of the handle, so as not to loose grip. I sit down in the abandoned factory, shuttering from the cold winds howling trough the open walls. "Nemsk материалы здание завода."

"Орден. 230453 подписанный командующим Павлов."

I glance in disbelief at the stack of bricks. Nemsk, i remember having read that somewhere. I yank the map from my bag, and sure enough, Nemsk is a factory on the eastern island of Namalsk. Finally having found out where i am, and decide to head for the old hospital, just a little hop up the road. Well not a literal hop, you get the meaning. I force myself up, unfreezing my already freezing limbs. I look at the 12 or so zombies i slaughtered to get into this building. I step outside, and wind instantly tears trough my bones. I force myself forwards, slowly crouching trough the gravel, and into the trees. About 5 minutes later i see the hospital in front of me. A big office building and a hospital is marked upon my map, and i start looting the office first. While sneaking around the 2nd floor, something catches my eye. A pickup truck is parked outside in the courtyard, and it seems to be in a fairly good condition. I sneak up on the top floor, wanting to take the ladder down to avoid zombie attention, a russian service pistol lies dead mid on the floor. I snatch the Makarov, and the magazines for it, quickly rushing down the ladder to claim my new price.

[Pea-Pod 5]

I just start at Panthera, so I've no idea where I am. After about an hour, I end up with a can of beans, a crossbow, and half a dozen bolts. I wander around the coastline for what seems like an eternity when I stumble across an airstrip, with two people building fortifications around a helicopter that seemed to be fully repaired. Against my better instincts, I ask if the two people at the chopper are friendly, and they start looking around, not being able to see me, and then say yes.

After asking them not to blow my face off, I make my way over to them and they ask if I speak German. Unfortunately, I don't, but one spoke enough english to help me get by. They asked if I had gas or food, and I told them no gas, but I had a can of food, but I'd help them find gas for the chopper. "Ok we go" was their reply, and they led me to a small boat. Trusting them more than I should, I follow them onto the boat, and we are off.

After ten minutes of nothing but mountains passing by, we arrived at an airfield. I got off the boat, and figured my new German buddies and I were going to look for another chopper or gas, or something of the sort. I walk about ten feet away from the boat and turn around to watch them sailing back off into the distance. Last thing they said to me? "Byebye"

So, that's where I'm left. A random airfield I don't know, but at least it's better than being shot, right?

[BioHazard050 49]

New story, this one is on a private hive.

Im running along the coast around Krutov Cap. Suddenly a car comes up behind me. It came to a stop and one of the occupants jumped out and opened fire on me. I ran as fast as i could. I turn around to see the car speeding towards me, pedal to the floor. In a panic i raise my M16 ACOG and fire wildly. Suddenly the car veers to the left and rams into a tree, I had somehow managed to kill the occupants by pure luck.

[28DayZLater 0]

Well, in South coast Chernarus,

spawned in dayz,

looting airfields in where i spent most of my days,

chillin' out, camping, looting all cool,

shooting down zombies outside of the schools,

when a couple of bandits,

who were up to no good,

started shooting bambies in my neighborhood,

got into one little shoot out because i just don't care,

clan said "we're moving back to our camp cos' we're all scared,

we shouted for a heli and when it came near,

the name of the pilot was all too clear,

if anything i would say a pickup was rare but i thought nah forget it,

now home back up there (Skulka),

i para'd out of the heli at around 7 or 8,

and i yelled to the pilot yo homie skype me later,

looked at my camp, i was finally there,

to settle myself as a survivor in this new lair.

[brightlitefilms 37]

Basically, my stories in DayZ are endless. This one's a good one.

I play with a couple of twelve year olds and a sixteen year old in a group. All of them are American, except for one. At one point, we all were regrouped in Cherno', and we sat in the firehouse slowly going out in groups of two to get supplies for all six of us. We decided to move to the supermarket after me and my friend Jason had looted it as it had too many supplies for us to carry back. Everyone moved to the supermarket and we all started looting. Then, the setting changed immediately. Like, literally.

We all got TP'd by a hacker and died.

Isn't that a cool story?

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

my Panthera adventure

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[kr0g3rnazy1 8]

[Casper41 0]

I assure you this is quite the tale so if it ends up looking like a bulk read, fear not for you should be entertained!

Right where to start. Well I recently joined a passworded private hive due to the rampant hacking and as side channel was on I decided to meet another person up north (above nwaf) we start playing together and the next day we rejoin in Stary. After a quick tent loot run that turned out to be mostly unsuccessful, my new friend claims to hear a helicopter. Excellent. We quickly gain a visual and it appears to be losing altitude to land, so we dash up the notorious Stary hill and find it has set down three very unfortunate players in the vast clearing beyond. My friend ( who bare in mind at this point we are only communicating on direct comms with mic or text on side) asks me ' Can we shoot them from this far away?' to which I reply ' Indeed'

I would estimate it was 400-500 metres away, yet accurate single shots from my M4A1 CCO and his M16A2 make for an impressive suppressive field of fire. Having killed 1 each in the field we break off back down the hill just as incoming fire from the third assailant (whom has flanked into the bushes on the other end of the hill) AND M240 machine gun fire blast around me. We quickly decide our best option is to hole up in the large iron shed. This chopper is not going away and appears quite agitated so the only rational thing to do is fire upon it as if fires upon us. There are many sections of the shed that gape open towards the sky so we both find places that we can fire upon it and be relatively safe from the buzz-saw of death attached to the chopper. Then I feel it was time to turn beast mode on and to my astonishment manage to shoot out the door gunner. As I watch his body fall out and slump over as if it hits the ground before it starts it's decent I let out a resounding battlecry over side channel.

The helicopter pilot then realises he's only good as a scout now and backs off way into the sky, so we decide to make a run for it south. Just as I get to the road the third baddie opens fire on us and we wildly zig zag to avoid being shot. Unfortunately I take a hit and as I make my way to cover behind a house a second shot lands and breaks my legs. Crap. To make matters worse I have half a dozen zombies gnawing at my heels which it hard to deal with from the floor. After dispatching them I stabilize my condition but realise I must have extremely low blood due to black-and-white crapovision. I then ask if my friend made it out alive over side and he says he did and I then ask over side if I'm allowed to log out because I was in desperate need of a cigarette, but wondered if the enemy considered it combat logging. They say it's okay so I suck in some tar with shaky adrenaline pumped hands and collect my thoughts on possibly the best ambush I've ever done. Now myself and my friend have become quite notorious on the server and the clan absolutely despises us. I love old school DayZ :D

[Dreadsauce 22]

MEANWHILE.

IN NAMALSK.

"Way up north, where the air gets cold, there's a tale about Christmas that you've all been told. And a real famous cat all dressed up in red, and he spends all year workin' out on his--"

The sounds of gunfire interrupted Dread's song. Stopping, he readied his Revolver and turned in place, looking about. More gunshots rang out, and Dreadsauce could tell over the howling wind that there was a conflict going on in the northeast, by the Old Hospital. Checking his bag, and seeing that he had but a single lonely can of Beans, Dread made up his mind and began hiking over.

----

He did not have to walk far into the city to spot the source of the conflict. There, cowering in the doorway, crouched a young man with a revolver clutched in his hand. Striding down the aisle, taking pot shots, was a Bandit, armed with an AK-74. The marauder laughed, firing another burst and driving the other man back behind cover. Tossing away his clip, he turned to the side.

Suddenly, Dreadsauce felt a warmth within his chest. Normally he would wait for the bandit to kill the poor lesser man before swooping in, but not this time. This Bandit would not take another life. With images of angels flashing through his head and a tingly feeling in his chest (that very well could have been pneumonia), he raised his gun and fired a single shot at the Bandit's head.

Red mist and brain matter exploded from the rifle-toting man's turban. He convulsed once before falling over like a sack of bricks. Stunned, the man in the doorway could do little but gape at the twitching remains of his attacker. With a grin, Dreadsauce began sauntering over to the Super-Market, pleased with his good deed.

The victim ran, heading for the back room. With a frown, Dreadsauce followed; he would be sure that his act of kindness was recognized. He darted after, following him out back.

The man cowered in a corner, biting his nails. He looked up, eyes wide, as Dreadsauce entered his field of vision. Dread began to speak.

"Hello! I am the man that just--"

The victim fired a shot from his revolver, that passed just under Dreadsauce's tender bits. Dreadsauce slowly looked down at the man's gun, then to his groin, then back.

"Hey, watch where you point that thi-- OH GOD."

Dread stumbled backward, blood erupting from a bullet hole in his side. The crouching man simply stared, his expression hard. With a scowl, Dreadsauce drew his revolver once more.

"Shooting the man that saved you? That's a paddlin'."

And so they began. Dodging and weaving, bobbing and darting. The two men danced a deadly duet of guns and bullets, constantly side-stepping and circling one another as they popped off shots. Dread took three more bullets; Bambi took four. As they danced out into the street, Dread did a pirouette and pulled his trigger, barrel pointed at the man's head.

Click.

"...Oh, shit."

Flopping his legs up comically high like a marionette, Dread ran back into the Store. Bambi took the time to huddle against the wall and bandage himself. Our hero swore under his breath, dashing over to the Bandit's corpse, leaking blood all over the place.

"Shoot at me, will he? Take my generosity for granted, will he? We'll see how he likes this!"

Bambi darted out to the back of the store, gun raised, eyes narrowed. He stopped, however, at the sight of Dreadsauce pointing an AK-74 right at his face and flicking the fire mode to "Automatic". Dread gave the young man one last, withering look before pulling the trigger.

----

That night, Dreadsauce plunked down onto the forest floor by his campfire, spooning beans into his mouth as he picked up a pencil, starting to write in his battered, worn notebook.

"Dear Diary,

Today, I helped someone in desperate need. I saved his life by slaying the filthy, gun-toting and murderous bandit that had pinned him down. Yet, he turned his gun on me."

Dread swallowed a mouthful of beans before continuing.

"I learned that Generosity and Kindness are both utter, absolute bullshit and practicing them gets you shot in the face."

He paused, before adding one final line.

"Sorry, Rarity and Fluttershy. But it's true.

Sincerely, Dreadsauce."

[topsm 11]

story was good until my little pony names were added in