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Post by Karcentric on Jan 29, 2011 13:12:57 GMT -5
((Continued from Rookie Village))
"Sure, I'd love to...Umm, wha- I mean, who are you?" The stalker stammered.
Rurik removed the helmet of the exoskeleton suit, in a hope to appear less intimidating, "I am Lieutenant Colonel Rurik, but you need not worry about the formalities stalker just Rurik will do, what about you?" He said looking around he noted that several people were standing waiting to leave.
"We'll be leaving soon, I suggest you gather any belongings you have and be ready to leave."
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Post by jackredding on Jan 30, 2011 19:12:07 GMT -5
Mikhail was already packed, standing behind Rurik, with a bit of a fidgety reaction to standing there, out in the open. Almost like he felt it was unnatural to be so...exposed. "I'm ready," came his reply as he unslung his rifle; it was covered in a thin layer of rust, almost like it had been left out in the rain for god knows how long but several of the parts, were brand new. Rookie stared up at the man, as he removed his helmet and sighed. "So long as I can take a crack or two at some bandits while we go through the Garbage, I'm happy."
(Blargh short post)
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Post by blackpapermoon on Jan 30, 2011 23:38:39 GMT -5
Two of the loner rookies where by Rurik apparently talking to the giant of a Dutyer. Both seemed rather odd to the new recruit, the black hair one he had seen watching from the sidelines and away from the main group, the other looked like a frighten cat, clearly he had never seen an exoskeleton before. Not that Morak could blame him, the suit worn by a man of averaged stature was intimidating enough but when worn by someone the height of the Lieutenant Colonel it became even more so.
"Rurik sir," said Vadik walking up to the man and gave him a salute, "the others are ready, there are fifth- teen other loners who are joining us, we are now waiting on your order to move out sir."
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Post by Karcentric on Jan 31, 2011 1:19:20 GMT -5
"So long as I can take a crack or two at some bandits while we go through the Garbage, I'm happy." Rookie said.
"If you see any bandits you'll be able to have a shot at them, but the Garbage has been rather barren lately." Rurik said
"Rurik sir," said Vadik walking up to the man and gave him a salute, "the others are ready, there are fifteen other loners who are joining us, we are now waiting on your order to move out sir."
"Very well, move out." He said putting his helmet back, "Keep your eyes peeled for mutants and anomalies, stay in small groups." Checking his PKM quickly and walking out of the village followed by several small groups.
((This thread is about the new characters, so write whatever encounter takes your fancy, but take in to account of your characters rank.))
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Post by Epicus Doomicus Bentleyficus on Feb 3, 2011 12:01:05 GMT -5
"Belongings...Right, now, belongings. I...Well, there's not much around here that belongs to me, apart from this rifle."
He fumbled about with his rifle in order to present its haphazardness in all its glory, but the Incredible Bulk before him simply turned his attention to leading the aroused rookie groups out of the village and was now herding a pack of leather-jacket-clad-sawn-off-shotgun-totting punks out of the village, with several grumbling Duty members as sheep-dogs. Boris barely managed to catch up with the overly-enthusiastic yellow-belly crowd and, trying to keep his pace along with it, moved closer to the rookie who looked a bit less generic. For one, he had the guts to talk to the insectoid hill with legs, which was an act of bravery on its own.
"Oh, hey. So, how's, um, life? Why are you going up North?
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Post by Karcentric on Feb 5, 2011 16:44:55 GMT -5
Rurik was walking at a slow stroll, enjoying the quiet claim it was a rare thing in the zone, and was almost always interrupted by some emergency, or planning. It was one of the reasons Rurik still collected the dispatches from Cordon.
Ahead just beyond the collapsed bridge the familiar sound of of gunfire and the excited barks of blind dogs. Ahead Rurik could see a group of loners trying and failing to guard the narrow encampment, they were being picked off one by one by the mutants.
Even as the group rushed forward the last of the loners was brought down by the mutants, firing a burst from his PKM which made the mutants scatter.
"Spread out and move forward slowly, don't let those mutts get close to you." Rurik warned. "You've seen what they can do in numbers."
As he said that five of the aforementioned dogs charged for the group.
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Post by blackpapermoon on Feb 6, 2011 19:13:09 GMT -5
Morak line up a shot one the blind dogs, pulling the trigger he fired of a short five round burst. The bullets found their mark inside the mutated mutt’s skull yet the other pack members just kept coming. There was something off about these mutants, blind dogs never attack a groups of people this big or came this close to encampments.
He continued to watch the on coming mutants, they weren’t acting as a pack like they normally would when attacking instead it was in signal disoriented patters as if their back limbs were not working like they were meant to. The Dutyer also noted that the canines where foaming at the mouth and also seemed that they where trying to bit at the air. He soon recognized these as symptoms of Rabies.
“Fuck,” Morak said as he took aim at yet another beast, “they’re rabid, so whatever happens don’t let them bite you.”
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Post by jackredding on Feb 8, 2011 19:42:22 GMT -5
The calm was soon interrupted by cordon's number one common pest; the blind dog. Rookie had taken a position at the rear of the entire group, his rifle brought to bare and as he took a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger. The round punched straight through a blind dogs eye, dropping it on the spot and again, he took another shot then another, and another. Like clockwork and gears, he was firing in a specific methodical pattern carefully planning and aiming his shots for maximum effectiveness.
"Life is good, going up north to strike it rich. Then I can leave Russia and actually live someplace that isn't so....sordid in nature." The way he fired his gun, the way he reacted to threats, wasn't even closely related to the majority of the rookies it was clear, precise militarized efficiency at it's finest.
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Post by Karcentric on Feb 10, 2011 4:17:23 GMT -5
“Fuck,” Morak said as he took aim at yet another beast, “they’re rabid, so whatever happens don’t let them bite you.”
Rurik drew his USP and lined up one dog and fired punching a hole through the beasts head, lining up a second he fired, hitting the dog in the throat dropping it to the ground. Looking around he saw that a two of the loners in the group had been killed by the rabid dogs one had his throat ripped out from a lunging dog the other had ran drawing several dogs after him which resulted in him being brought down by repeated bites to the thighs.
Aiming at the pack that was chewing on the unfortunate loner he fired hitting another and scattering the rest of the pack which was obliterated by a chorus of gunfire from the rookie group.
Eventually the group cleared the remaining mutants dogs and trekked forward minus the two stalkers that had met their grisly end at the jaws of the mutts.
Walking forward to where the last of the loner under the bridge was Rurik waited as the group followed.
"Take a quicker breather. There is bound to be something else out there in the wilderness waiting. Keep alert." Rurik warned.
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Post by Epicus Doomicus Bentleyficus on Feb 14, 2011 9:35:20 GMT -5
It was high time to prove oneself and Boris' powers of observation failed him as several disfigured, mangy hounds set after them without being spotted beforehand. He quickly took the swing off, feeling a cold, unfriendly tingle in his fingertips as they groped the barrels of the ancient shotgun. He moved the barrel in the direction of one of the hounds and squeezed the trigger. The weathered rifle let loose a monstrous howl as the slug fled its barrel, finding a new home in the bark of a tallish aspen tree.
"Cursed be winds!"
The combination of his general inexperience, the sway on his rifle and the fact that his breakfast was rather meager made his uneasy hand miss. He scowled and accidentally pulled the trigger yet again, firing the other slug. This time, Lady Fortuna smiled upon him, for the slug was now deeply lodged inside the dog's esophagus. The mutt was panting, biding its life farewell and went off after the Great Bone in the Sky.
A dog. The largest thing he had killed so far, if you don't count the cockroaches in the slums of Sankt Peterburg. He was feeling both elation and sorrow, for he had ended a life of a living being. However, the dogs had managed to reach them and, already now, a stalker had fallen to them as the dog lunged at his throat. The poor man's last breath escaped his lips as his eyes turned out and his soul left his body. Another rookie was bitten one time too many, now lying sideways like a skewed pig. He reached for his pocket and from a little-pile-of-every-sorts pulled out two random cartridges and shoved them down the gaping barrel of the over/under shotgun and watched as the rest of the dogs retreated, only to come back. This time, the stalkers fought back a bit more prepared. He fired two shells blindly, both of which missed their intended targets.
The clash was soon over as the bodies of the dogs lay about. Some of the rookies stooped towards the carcasses and were reaching for their tails. Following in their example, Boris approached the hound and started to cut the muscly tail off. A random plastic bag in his rucksack was now holding a bloody tail of a blind-dog inside itself. The group was on the move once more. He caught up with the Behemoth in front and mumbled out something which suspiciously sounded like:
"...how much longer?"
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Post by Karcentric on Feb 19, 2011 23:20:47 GMT -5
As Rurik waited for the group to reassemble he noticed a couple of stalkers standing around impatiently. One of the more notable muttered "...how much longer?"
Turning to Morak who was the closest of the three Dutiers that had accompanied him, "Private, I'll take these few stalkers ahead, and get these papers to the checkpoint. Don't take to long." Rurik said.
Morak saluted, while Rurik turned to the restless group of stalkers. "Those of you who want to move a bit quicker than the rest of the group can follow me, if you see something that catches your attention let someone know, don't wander off on your own, or you'll find yourself left behind." He warned. "If there aren't any questions, let's get going."
Four stalkers including Boris stood and followed Rurik as they headed for the checkpoint which separated Cordon and Garbage.
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Post by Epicus Doomicus Bentleyficus on Feb 22, 2011 3:38:52 GMT -5
So, the gargantuan commander had singled out a group of particularly impatient people, Vezirov himself included. These news were not entirely unwelcome, seeing how the temperature had already dropped quite a bit. If they picked up their pace, they’d reach Rostok in no time. And then…What?
What was he going to do in Rostok, that haven for the hopeless? He had barely any plans apart from “move north”. North where? The North Pole? What was he going to do, inexperienced and frightful as he is? He might as well be descending down Acheron itself. There was that severed tail in his rucksack, but what was going to be of it? Who would need a tail of a mangy, mutated dog? Why did he even cut it off? That thing was going to leak blood all over his belongings…Not that there were many actual belongings inside. Two tins of unidentified, unidentifiable meat, a razor, a bottle of water, a near-useless, blunt knife, some nuts and bolts, a flashlight and a roll of loo paper. Who knows what kind of nasty rash you might get from wiping your tush with herbs from the Zone.
Keeping up with Rurik’s gigantic steps was difficult enough on its own, but now, after they had quickened their pace, it was becoming outright ridiculous. Still…Rostok was somewhere there, over that hill, no, wait, that one. Yet, there was nothing over the hill but an occasional glitter on either side of the road down which they were trotting. Were those things the beauty marks of the Zone itself, the chaotic anomalies everyone was talking about?
An elderly stalker and his grumpy friend had shown him an empty storage site, not far from the rookie village where, apparently, a bunch of anomalies were to be found. Boris, at first did not see a thing because the place really looked desolate and abandoned. Just as he was about to climb over the aged fence-post, the cranky bloke grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back on the ground, scowling. He bent over and picked up a twig from the ground and then tossed it over the fence. The twig snapped in mid-air, triggering something which could have been best portrayed as an “explosion of air”. The older chap then proceeded to explain what had just taken place. “If you look at it long enough, you can actually see the air fluctuating…”, the old man said. Those anomalies were called “Springboards” and were fairly common around the Zone. Stepping into one wouldn’t kill you immediately, but the impact of the anomaly could break or even crush your bones, depending on its size and your protection. Such anomalies bore irradiated artifacts which formed weak gravitational fields around them. Some could apparently force bullets to swerve away from their trajectory when fired, though to Boris, this all seemed like a piece of really bizarre science-fiction. It was so unreal, so otherworldly yet…So familiar and nostalgic.
In the distance he saw…More hills. However, there was something rather peculiar about these. They were almost red in colour and had rather irregular outlines. Was Rostok near? Was Rostok behind that rusted gate?
“Commander…What are these wind things called? These things by the side of the road? Are these anomalies? And…What are those hills made of? That is neither hearth nor stone.”
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Post by Karcentric on Feb 23, 2011 9:38:03 GMT -5
“Commander…What are these wind things called? These things by the side of the road? Are these anomalies? And…What are those hills made of? That is neither hearth nor stone.”
Looking to the hills that Boris indicated.
"Those mounds have been here since the first accident in 86, all the irradiated equipment that was used in that time was left here and buried." He said looking at the closest hill, several pipes were sticking out of it. "Some people make a fortune digging through these hills despite the intense pockets of radiation in the area. The old soviet equipment is worth plenty if you can find the right person."
Walking slowly letting the small group poke around, "You'll find a lot of cheap artifacts if you look around here, bandits too. You might like to check the depot, a lot of people go there and not a lot of them return. You might find something a bit better suited for ranged combat." Rurik suggested to Boris who was clutching his shotgun.
A gust of wind blew through the area whistling from the random pipes and exposed equipment left to rust over the decades.
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Post by Epicus Doomicus Bentleyficus on Feb 23, 2011 11:02:38 GMT -5
"You'll find a lot of cheap artifacts if you look around here, bandits too."
Artifacts...The fruit of the Zone, the juicy, expensive sort of fruit people would give an arm and a leg for... Unlike the other ill-begotten children of misfortune at the bleak village in Cordon, he was not the kind of man to escape from reality... No. The Zone is a blessing which must be used to help mankind out of the rut it is stuck in. Boris loathed the system his peers were stuffed into. He despised the way young people were pigeonholed. He abhorred the lack of choice he had in life. To live in Sankt Peterburg in a lower-to-middle class family meant being doomed to the most meaningless tasks until one's death on his fifty-fifth birthday, callous, forgotten and detestable. There is no other purpose to the Zone but to help us; to single out the worthy saviours of mankind. Bandits, criminals, villains and fiends were bound to perish in the Zone. There was no other way humanity could achieve salvation.
"Those mounds have been here since the first accident in 86, all the irradiated equipment that was used in that time was left here and buried."
The Garbage...The whole area looked eerie. It was a bleak, hilly area with heap upon heap of irradiated Soviet crap. There was something peculiar about this place, a spirit of ages long since passed. Boris' view moved from one heap to another. Battered Soviet bulldozers, discarded weaponry, aged electronics, rusted appliances, flimsy silos...Something struck Boris that day. A tone of nostalgia never seen before. He could almost see what used to be here. Before his eyes, these were not piles of scrapped metal, but houses and roads. He could see shadows of people working, relaxing, walking. There were children playing amongst what were now abandoned silos. And then, something appeared on the horizon. A flash of white. The people covered their heads.
The rigidness of the cold brought him back. There were no longer people and houses, but heaps of metal and stone. He was clutching his rifle in his hand, trembling. The wind had started to blow harsher than usual.
"Yes...Commander. We'll go that-a-way, then. However, I'll stick to my rifle...for now. I don't think I could handle anything else, at least not without proper training."
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Post by jackredding on Feb 23, 2011 15:53:13 GMT -5
"Chernobyl and it's outlaying regions. Some people say that if you listen carefully you can still hear the happy cries of the playing children, the sound of people hard at work and other times, you can hear the panic and fear."
Rookie stood there, his eyes closed as he spoke and within those words, one could hear regret or sorrow. Sorrow for those lost within the accident and regret for the fact, that they were essentially robbing a mass grave. He kept it to himself, as he held his rifle close to his chest, the only piece of equipment from those days gone by. It was nightmarish, hearing the faint whispers on the wind, the screams of terror and joy and if it bothered him, The rookie did not show it. He would not show it.
As he listened to Rurik talk about the mountains of equipment left to rust and rot, he could not help but stare at them, his eyes seeing what the other man had seen; shadows of houses and people, long since gone from this world. "The zone is one such reason, we should try to correct our mistakes and right our wrongs."
Once again, he found himself looking back at the mounds of cold ware technology buried and forgotten, like an unwanted child. Rookie's father would have found this to be frankly, disgusting.
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