I'll tell my squad's little tale.
We are six strong. I'll list of a few names to make this story easier to understand. You may know some of these names as well.
Me, RayA75. I am the squad's Permanently Designated Marksman. Usually I'm packing a sniper rifle and a secondary weapon apart from a silenced pistol. My play style is cold and calculating.
Michael. I suppose he could be considered our scout. He goes out on his own a lot with any weapons he chooses looting from town to town like our own residential Mongol. Zombies aren't but ants to him as he's had over 900 zombie kills in a life.
Shane. He's Shane. He provides ample amounts of stress. Many a time will he shout contact and after everyone hits cover, we'll hear, "Was just a zombie." Somehow though, he finds a lot of camps and vehicles as he roams the map with no real objective.
Stephen. He is well trusted and well versed in zombie killing. He works with Michael a lot.
Floop. Yes, Floop78. Preferring the winchester, FN FAL, or any other medium to long range weapon, he survives and thrives. His calm demeanor in engagements makes him an excellent partner with me. He is flexible and has served as anything from spotter to looter to overwatch. We've gunned down many a hostile together.
Thorn. Yes, Thorn. He isn't on nearly as much as the other members, but he plays well.
It's rare to see the squad all together at one point, but this was one of those occasions. We were at the Balota pier finding each other. We were all geared with low tier weapons, Winchester 1866's, CZ 550's, AK-74's; but the important part was that we were all armed. We decide to hit the Balota Air Tower.The squad moves toward - no- invades the airfield. We see one poor fellow running from the hangers to the camps as we cross the open. He is bleeding, being chased by about 8-12 aggros, and only armed with a hatchet. "Leave him, I don't want an extra, untrusted, player knowing about us," I say coldly. That's how I operate. More safety for us is always the best option in my mind, even if it means I'm a heartless bastard to others. Floop doesn't share my view. Over Direct Comms he yells to the barely surviving survivor:
"Hey man, come over here and we can take out the zombies and heal you up."
Silently, the survivor runs to us. We say to stay behind us as we head into the bottom floor of the Balota Air Control Tower and slowly shoot the zombies as they shamble in the door. I keep one eye on the zombies and one on our Axeman. I don't shoot. My CZ550 would've likely done more harm than good anyways. I do ask the Axeman the following,
"Would mind please putting the hatchet away? I'm sure you understand."
"Oh of course."
He responds. My mind is eased, but I am always on my toes. We head up to the glass cage of the tower to bandage our survivor. All of us cram in around him. He is bandaged, given painkillers, and transfused. We all double check the other floors for loot we may have missed and have a constant watch on the survivor at my request.
"I'm going to be honest with you guys," the survivor starts. My heart sinks and my palms get sweaty. The chatter and loot listing going on in our squad skype call fades out as we shush each other.
I assume the worst, like always. Is he a hacker? Does he have armed friends waiting just outside of Balota to take our equipment?
He continues.
"I'm actually the admin of this server, and we have a tent city up north with equipment. A lot of high tier equipment. Me and my friend have been thinking about it, and we want a personal army. The kind of army that could go into Cherno and just hold it against everyone else."
As he stops speaking, the volume raises through the roof on our skype call. Hoots, hollers and surprised laughter fill the levels to their highest notches.
But I refrain.
"Where'd you get this equipment?"
I press on.
"Me and my friend went to set up a camp once, put down a few tents, and then went to play on another sever. There were tents on that server too, full of equipment. We took it all, and the people who owned those tents just kept refilling it so we just kept taking it."
A likely story. I didn't know to believe it or not, but we continue. The seven of us start out of Balota when something ear shatteringly loud happens. A grenade, fallen just short of killing range rings through the forest. As the squad finds cover and concealment we ask the admin what was happening and if this was his friend.
"Nope, someone is just trying to kill you with a frag grenade."
We spot him, threaten him, and tell him to come out of his tree (he was ghillied) unless we were killing him on the spot.He does. He says he overheard what happened in the air tower. He just has a crossbow and two barely armed friends.The admin invites him to come with us north if he's friendly. He says he is, but I don't pay it much attention. He almost killed us all with an M67 HE. I suppose I would have done the same thing if I were in his position. I still keep the entire party between me and him. After this, my paranoia has had enough.
"Is there any way you can prove you're an admin?"
"Yeah, one moment."
His character goes stiff. He must've alt tabbed out into the Battle-Eye client.A global message is broadcast
(Battle-Eye) Admin: Hello All, pack of 10 roaming
Impressive. So now the party is ten-strong. We begin the trek north. Long story short, we meet up with his friend who is ghillied, has a GPS, an an AS50. I admire the weapon, and we move on. We hit a few crashed helicopter sites, run through a few towns, and before too long we're at the foot of a mountain.
"It's just up there."
The admin and his friend split off to bring a van full of extra supplies from their new base to our tents.They weren't lying. Tents full of AS50's, M4A1 CCO SD's, L85 AWS's, NV Gogs, rangefinders. The admin and his friend arrive with more ghillie suits and every piece of equipment we need to become efficient survivors, navigators, and killers. After many thanks to the admin and friend, we make this our new home. The coordinates are ingrained into our memories, and we bring back more equipment we leave in every time an operation is planned; sometimes even a car or an ATV.
Since then, we've had our ups, downs, and an all around amazing DayZ experience. We've got many more stories to tell, before and after this event. If you guys like, I'll continue to share them.
I invite whoever may be reading this to challenge us. Try and make us scared. Try and catch us off guard. Try and meet us on unfriendly terms. We will take your challenge. US 4583 is our home. If you see RayA75, Echo (not the member echo), FUNTclan, Flowzo, shane, or Thorn in that userlist ;or any for that matter, be afraid.
Last edited by Ray; Aug 18, 2012 at 11:25 AM.
