Name: Doctor Specialist Richardson

Gender: Male

Age: 38

Appearance:

Medical Ailments: He is clean, has hayfever and prone to colds. Missing an area to feel low levels of pain (So if he pricks his finger n a needle he cant feel it, but a bullet hole he will feel)

Nationality: English - he is a legal immigrant, moved when he was 6 years old

Occupation: National Guard and a Doctor in a near by medical centre

Four Week History: Doctor Richardson had a normal day at the start, well as normal as a day can be when your pulling a toy car out a rectum and healing broken bones that really should not be broken. Its the perks of being in a walk in medical centre. He was just in a Skype call with an old client complaining about foot pains and a bad flu when the TV came on. This TV doesn't ever work, it has a broken cable which means it can connect but has trouble finding stations, the channel it came on with was the news. The picture was off a CNN news chopper flying around a central city hospital, there were police cars and swat cars parked in a semicircle looking in on the entrance. The feed kept switching to new helicopters to get a better view. When a nurse stepped out covered in blood the medics ran to try to save him... their faces when he bit a chunk out their chest. He settled down for a while knowing that his doctors would be a centre for panicked men a women. After a week of seeing men turn in-front of him he left.

Knowing he still had a role in the National Guard he found out where his brigade was placed, it was hard to find because people had gathered around the foot of the door and were pushing in, he knew he should stay to help calm them down but he was posted at the airport and... well that's more important.

When he arrived at the airport, he could see why he was posted here. The entrance was filled with more scared people, just these were angrier. They had came out with guns and all manor of weapons, bags manly but a few had sticks and pistole's. He had nearly got past security when he was grabbed by his sergeant. A tall strong man, that had been brought to his knees by the stress he must be under. He had bags under his eyes, sweat dripping down his face and saturating his clothes. He was taken to the barricade they had made out of, well anything they could find. He stood there and waited. The rest of what happened was a blur, someone pushed too hard, someone turned and punched, a guard fired a shot and everyone was caught in a blood bath. he had to get out. So when he heard a truck starting, he jumped from his post and ran to the car, diving in and he is here now.

Items of Interest: Bottle of water (0.25 pound), 6 medkits (3 pound), bundle of multiple MRES (10 pound)

Weapons: M1 Grand with bayonet(9.5 pounds), M9(952 gams)

Name: William Reese

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Appearance: William keeps a lean figure; he has average muscle mass and a face with sharp, angular features. His brown hair is cut short and is becoming natty, his stubble is coming in thicker in the four weeks since the outbreak. He wears a pair of thick-rimmed glasses on his face. He wears a checked brown sweater vest with a stained off-white shirt underneath, the sleeves of which he keeps rolled up; above this he wears a black windbreaker. He wears khaki trousers and a pair of brown loafers. Strapped over his shoulders is a leather satchel, it has a lanyard attached made of those little cube beads with letters on them that reads, “DADDY.” His back pocket bulges with what is presumably a wallet; on his left wrist is a silver watch that still ticks. On his left hand he wears a gold wedding band and his right trouser pocket bulges with a now-dead cell phone.

Medical Ailments: None.

Nationality: American (Virginian)

Occupation: American History Teacher

Four Week History: William’s high school class was on an annual field trip to the nation’s capital when the outbreak struck in Georgia. A state of emergency was called and people began to flee the cities, panicking for the nearest beacons of hope - airports and docks naturally. William ran around his hotel room, nervously packing in any and everything he’d need. There’d be no telling how soon he’d get home.

William followed the crowd towards Dulles. He took a taxi, the driver of which was all-too-happy to get out of there. However, on their way to Dulles, they got stopped dead in their tracks in traffic. They waited an hour, two hours, three hours. Problem is, this traffic was never letting up. They spent the night in the car and when they woke up - nothing. No movement in the traffic. So, they set out on foot. They walked, ten or twelve hours a day down the stretch of highway. Whenever they stopped, they piled into a stranger’s car and spent the night.

Three days passed before they arrived; people were already piling up outside the terminal. Days passed, but the National Guard held firm, nobody goes in and nobody gets out. They handed out canned goods and water to the refugees in the parking lots, but nonetheless tensions rose between the ever-growing horde of hungry refugees and the National Guardsmen. During this time, Reese met the members of his group in the parking lot of Dulles International, what happened after is common knowledge.

Items of Interest

Food

• 2x Water Bottles (Full)
• 3x Canned Meats
• 1x Bottle of Scotch
  
  Miscellaneous
• 1x Map of D.C.
• 3x Rolls-worth of Toilet Paper
• 3x Extra Pairs of Socks
• 1x Zippo Lighter
• 1x Small Journal
• 2x Mechanical Pencils
• 1x Ballpoint Pen

Weapons: A rather sturdy stick

Name: Sophia Kelt
Gender: Female
Age: 13 years old
Medical Ailments: Young and fragile
Nationality: Washington DC, USA
Occupation: Middle School Student

Important Items: Knife, Screwdriver, Lighter, Bottle of Water, Flashlight

Bio: Sophia hid. She was small and could crawl into places others couldn't. She'd always been an able climber and a nimble gymnast, to the stress of her mother, and her mousy nature found her curled up in small places all the time. When the outbreak got bad, Sophia was on her way home from school. She had been chased by a biter and climbed up and away to hide. She stayed in that tree for two days while chaos and hell broke loose below.

When she felt safe enough to descend, and her hunger had grown too great, Sophia made her way to her abandoned home. Her parents were gone or otherwise absent and Sophia hid again. And she continued to hide until she was discovered by an elderly woman named Doris Hink. Sophia's story is nothing without Doris's, a widow before the outbreak and a real go getter in her day. Doris's problem wasn't motivation or will power, it was a seventy five year old body that didn't go like it used to. She became the brains of her and Sophia's little operation, Sophia being the able bodied go-fer. Doris would give Sophia instructions and Sophia would do the tasks. Climbing to unscrew something, going to the basement to bring up tools, scouting the nearby homes to get food. Together, they survived for two weeks like this, storing food and supplies and avoiding any conflict with the undead.

But eventually they had to move, so Sophia found them a car and Doris drove, as best she could, into a small pack of undead. If not for the heroics of James Coy, an injured neighbor and fellow survivor, they would have died in that car. James had fallen behind in an earlier attempt to get out of the city because of a broken leg. Despite this, he was able to get them moving again with the use of a gun and gritted teeth.

For the GM: At the opening of this campaign, Sophia will be figuring out her place in the community as some think she's too young to help, while others think she should be required to help to keep up her share. The young, small, and quiet youth has dealt with a lot of growing up in the last two months, having seen terrible and frightening things. Sophia thinks she should be allowed to go on retrieval missions and scout because she had been doing it with Doris for quite some time. It's something she's good at. She has a fierce loyalty to Doris and a less, but still strong connection to James. (Free NPCs for the GM to use)

Secondary Characters
Name: Doris
Gender: Female
Age: 62
Medical Ailments: Elderly, Arthritis, Self Rationed Heart Medication
Nationality: Born MidWest, USA. Lived in Washington DC 40+ years
Occupation: Retired Teacher

Name: James
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Medical Ailments: Broken Leg, Healing
Nationality: Virginia, USA
Occupation: Bar Tender

Appearance:


Name: Sylvia Velázquez
Gender: Female
Age: 41

Medical Ailments: N/A

Nationality: Nicaraguan-American

Occupation prior to apocalypse: Chicago City Councilwoman, Green Party Representative

Four Week History: Slyvia doesn't even remember what meeting she had been flying to... or from. She spent the bulk of the last 4 weeks at the airport, trying to help maintain some semblance of order when she wasn't working her way through the alcohol of the airport. While not quite a leader, she was effective enough at recognizing the strengths of others and delegating roles accordingly that she was able to survive the bedlam that erupted as time marched forward. Long enough to make it to the bus with others.



Items of Interest: Large leather messenger bag/purse-

• Food/water: 1 bottle of wine (re-purposed and filled with water) (0.75 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (1 lbs), half eaten box of crackers (0.3 lbs)
• Misc Supplies (main bag): 2 changes of clothes (3 lbs), assorted books/records/diaries (1 lbs), pens and pad (0.4 lbs), other personal items (0.6 lbs), several grams of cocaine (-- lbs)
• Misc Supplies (accessible side pockets): Accumulated loose ammo (1 lbs), duct tape (0.25 lbs), 1/2 pack of cigarettes and lighter (-- lbs),

Weapons:

• 5-Chambered Colt Detective Special
• Not-quite-sonic Screwdriver
• Pocket Knife (hold out against men)

Name: Angela "Angie" O'Connor

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Appearance: Standing at roughly six feet two, Angie isn't exactly your typical white girl. With fingertips permanently a dark, grease-tinged brown from all the auto parts she's constantly around, a sneer in her brown eyes and dirty streaks under them, she's everything you'd imagine a grease monkey and an autohead to be. Well, except for the fact that her skin's so white it could double as a solar panel. A light dusting of freckles dot her cheeks and arms, and you might classify her as ginger but she ain't, with a head of hair that's blonde, thick and curly. Her physique is well built (well, well enough from all the years she's spent under cars), and nothing else mars her already dirty features. Her current outfit is that of when she started: a set of blue denim overalls, now grease- and blood-stained from the month of surviving out in the open, underneath that is a white cotton shirt, sports bra, and on her feet she wears her trusty work boots, steel toe-caps of course. Her scruff hair's tied in a short ponytail that she keeps stuffed in her shirt to prevent it from getting caught on anything.

Medical Ailments: N/A

Nationality: Irish-American

Occupation: Mechanic and over-all grease monkey.

Four Week History
The month since the first outbreak happened in DC played hell on Angie. When the first sporadic viral cases popped up in the city, she paid them no mind, but once the news started reporting closer and closer to her home, she decided on an action plan straight from her favorite movie: to grab whatever she could, arm herself, maybe grab a friend or two, head for the nearest pub, grab a pint and wait for all of this to blow over.

Obviously, that's not what happened.

At the end of the first two weeks, she'd lost her home, the majority of her stuff and all the friends that she scrounged together that weren't already dead, three to shamblers that broke into the pub they had fortified (no surprise there) and one to a random looter. That left her, for the most part, alone. She spent the remainder of that time following the news reports and military broadcasts to Dulles International, where she'd holed up with the rest of the ill-begotten survivors. That was, until, chaos erupted around her again and she was forced to abscond. Finding transport out was the biggest of her concerns, and the tag-alongs that had also found the same bus she did were additional comforts to her. Through the chaos and the gruel that was the slog out of Dulles, she did what she could to keep the bus running, but when someone out there took potshots at the motley crew, damaging the bus, she knew the thing would go no further.

Now she survives, barely hanging on, but determined to live, on a daily basis, at least.

Items of Interest:

• 1x backpack
• 1x flat-head screwdriver
• 1x pocket multi-tool
• 2x 500ml plastic water bottles, one half full, the other full
• 1x set of coveralls, grease stained but otherwise in good condition
• 2x extra shirts
• 1x box of wheat crackers
• 1x map of DC
• 1x whiskey flask, 3/4 full with Jack Daniels

Weapons:

• 1x aluminium baseball bat
• 1x lead pipe

Name
Ali Ni Yuyn
( Alice Niyona Yung )

Gender
Female

Age
19

Appearance

Ali is known as a 'baby-face', looking much younger (close to a 15yr) than her real age and to add to that baby-face look, she is awfully small her age as she only stands 5ft. Ali is known to be very skinny, her body is not bony at all as it is simply a genetic-disorder in which is common in her family thus her atheltic-looking body doesn't come from excercise, more like a genetic-thingy-majig. Ali tends to wear very light clothing, casually a brown, thin sweater, it has a very silky-look, though even Ali doesn't know the material. Her clothing is made to suit most of the seasons, seemingly carrying a backpack of which holds clothes that fit the four seasons, (one pair of clothing for each season) though she is wearing a holed-blue-sweater, the holes near the sleeves and at the tip of the bottom, and double layered 'skinny-pants' as, before the sickness her closet consist of skinny-clothing.

Nationality
South Korean

Occupation:
Baker - Artist

Four Week History
Ali stayed in Kingsmouth, and her parents were away in Washington D.C. The town was very small and was against Maine shores, it was mostly unknown and very tranquil. The virus wasn't near Kingsmouth and so when the Virus was fully known everyone in Kingsmouth crowded the gun-stores and the home-department stores and began getting ready. Ali didn't no what to do in that current time so she had to break into her parents lock to buy the required needs to get her supplies. Ali had stocked up on canned-items, water bottles, clothing, and storage, though she was smart enough and estimated the weight of each. Her nearby neighbors had known money and so she invited them inside thus they helped her barricade her home with the materials she had bought. (<---) The town was at first tranquil, Ali stayed calm and searched up the Flu's origin, Georgia. She had luck on her hands for the current week and so she packed up and began leaving, and so did others of who decided to leave Kingsmouth. She arrived at the airport in Vermont, though flight tickets to Washington were all taken. Thus they had to drive at least 2 weeks to drive towards New York. Information was scarce for her group and so she did not no where the virus was and so she was risking her and her two companions. A week later it was the half of the third week to her trip to Washington D.C, though sadly parts of the city were off thus her trip ended at a hotel that was very expensive. During her time in the hotel an infected-being had gone through the Security, hiding his or...her's? bite. Thus the infection spreaded through the hotel and unluckily Ali had to fight her way through at least three infected-beings, just to find herself running from a horde and then falling from a pit only to be a few feet away from the Walkers of which passed her, losing most of her items. Ali was forced to scour Washington until she found a group of people scouring the city as well.

Items of Interest | Surival Pack |7.3lb|
4x Cans of Bacon-Beans
17x Arrows
3x Bottle of Water
1x Shirt
2x Pants
10x Pistol-Bullets
---
Weapons
1x Bow
1x Fully-Loaded Pistol

Name: Alex Ibanez

Gender: M

Age: 23

Appearance:


Stands around 6ft 1. Years of training and arduous patrols with the Marines have given Alex a lean, yet muscular physique.

Medical Ailments: Slightly unhinged. Due to traumatic events experienced on tours of duty, he often has trouble keeping his emotions in check and expressing them to others. This also often leads to what appears to be a lack of empathy.

Nationality: American/Spanish.

Occupation: On compassionate leave from the USMC.

Four Week History: Some would say Alex was in hell before the outbreak. Upon returning home from a nightmarish 12 month deployment with the USMC to Afghanistan, Alex was placed on compassionate leave on the grounds of emotional instability after a breakdown on the first night of returning to the US. He spent the next 4 weeks in Solitude, holed up in his dark, desolate apartment, haunted by the memories of lost comrades and the faces of people he'd had to kill.
The news of the outbreak was just a drop of water in the vast ocean of depression his mind was drowning in. Although it was only a matter of time before the infection came a-knockin' on his door. And that it did. After a very close encounter with his recently turned next door neighbor, something clicked in Alex's head. The world was ending and if he didn't pull himself out of the depths of despair he'd sunk to, he'd die alone and helpless. His worst fear.
After hearing a looped message on the radio about a possible haven in Easton, Alex gathered his kit and headed out into the apocalyptic wasteland. He hadn't made it more than a few miles, when he was forced to take cover in a school to avoid a large group of shambelers. Heading in, Alex saw a rather odd, fortified bus hastily parked near the entrance... Survivors?

Items of Interest:
-Wears his standard issue webbing, containing: Mess tins x2, a Hexi stove, a weapons cleaning kit, 5x 12 round glock magazines and 2x full 1 litre water canteens.
-Also wears a daysack containing a waterproof jacket, warm jacket, gloves and wooly hat, a head torch, spare batteries and 48 hours worth of rations.
-Weighs roughly 10 kilos all together.

Weapons:
-An issue bayonet that he uses as a knife
-Standard Issue glock

Name: Tobias Tariq Saleh

Gender: Male

Age: 42

Appearance: Tobias stands at about six-foot-three and has a rather 'athletic' sort of musculature; from looking at him, he could be mistaken for being slightly skinny. He has lightly tanned skin and a large, hooked nose on his face. His hair is short, black and as neatly-groomed as it could be, given the circumstances, with an uneven fringe that 'flops' around above his face with movement. He also has a beard that dominates the lower half of his face, but doesn't go further than that.

His dress sense is reminiscent of a man with wealth, but not much taste. He wears a button-down, short-sleeve shirt with a distinctive black-and-neon green checkerboard pattern, along with cream cargo trousers and green skate shoes, with a golden chain on his neck and another connected to something inside his pocket. He also wears a golden watch on his left wrist, above a large, rather trippy-looking tattoo of a strange plant/lizard hybrid that covers his whole left arm.

Medical Ailments: Prone to periodic hallucinations ('flashbacks') as a result of LSD abuse. Also exhibits feverish symptons from other illicit drugs.

Nationality: British-Palestinian

Occupation: Hitman

Four Week History: Before all the virus madness in Georgia kicked off, Tobias was called over from Las Vegas to DC by his paymasters from the Russian Mafiya to assassinate a journalist who was about to expose their deals with the Pharmaceutical industry to distribute dangerous, untested drugs to delay the shambler transformation in Africa; thus locking people into dependency. Once he heard about the shamblers, however, he decided to head to Dulles airport and wait, guessing that the journalist would try and flee the city ASAP. He was right.

This lead to a problem for Tobias, however. Though he had killed the journalist, travel was soon locked down by the military to prevent the spread of the virus. Once all hell broke loose at the airport, Tobias was in high demand by the various warring factions that had appeared due to his skillset. Tobias only wanted to be left alone, however, not seeing any of them worthy of anything but getting devoured by the shamblers. Especially the racist conspiracy theorists who thought he must have been behind everything because of his Arab ethnicity. Thus, he had to kill six more people (four of them with a gun, and the other two with a Sledgehammer) before they got the message.

However, by then, the bus bound for escape had already left; clearly they didn't trust him very much. But Tobias was unphased; grabbing all the supplies he could, he chose to sneak out on foot while everyone else was busy killing each other. Timing his movements across the city so as to avoid the major hordes, all Tobias wants is to find a cushy, out-of-the-way mansion or high-rise Penthouse where he (and he alone) can hopefully spend a few years in comfort while civilisation is rebuilt, or until he gets mauled, whichever comes first.

Items of Interest:
Repurposed Gun Bag- Contents:
x9 Spare 12-Gauge Shotgun shells
x2 Spare Pistol Clips, containing 8 9mm Rounds each
x2 Bottle of Painkillers, one half-empty
x1 500ml Coca-Cola bottle, filled with Water
x1 Can of Meatballs
x2 Packet of Crisps (Potato Chips)
x1 Paperback Copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra
Other Items:
x1 Bloody Rag
x1 3x3 Sheet of LSD 'Blotter' Tabs

Weapons:
x1 Winchester Model 1887 Lever-Action Shotgun (5 rounds)
x1 Customised Beretta M9 Pistol (6 rounds)
x1 Bloodied Sledgehammer
x1 Utility Knife

Name: Evan James Stewart

Gender: Male

Age: 21

Appearance:

Medical Ailments: None.

Nationality: American, from DC.

Occupation: College graduate (i.e unemployed)

Four Week History: Evan was the youngest child with two older sisters, 40 and 33, plus a brother, 28. He grew up loved and teased and protected by his siblings; all were doted upon equally by their elderly parents. The suburban family never had any huge turmoil.

The University of Washington’s Foster Business program had seemed like the natural logical choice after high school. Evan tried to be a good student but his grades fared average, and as always was eclipsed by his athletic excellence in 400m sprints. As a fresh graduate, he was as listless as he had begun college with no career aspiration to join his family’s reputable construction supply company nor had any idea what to do with his life. He passed time playing video games, hanging out with his girlfriend and friends, running, and trained in parkour. The occasional half-hearted attempts at job applications were met with rejection. His family coaxed and urged him to take on a ready position in the company and he decided to accept the offer when he returned from camp.

Just before the outbreak struck, he was in a two-weeks long camping trip for kids in Brambleton, Virginia, which had been his annual tradition for three years, as a volunteer leader. The relative isolation of the area shielded them from the pandemic danger - for a while. They were hiking back to the campsite when screams shrilled through the trees. It wasn’t long before the older kids and adults, standing away in the more secluded safety of the forest, knew what the horror unfolding before them meant. In a moment of panic, he ran and deserted the children and friends.

He had survived on his own for a week and made his way to Dulles, a fuel stop, in the hope that he would reunite with his family and friends in hometown Washington.

Items of Interest:

- A small Camelbak with a 2L hydration pack and mouthpiece, contains:

- Some water, protein bars, canned tuna, bandaids, boxes of aspirin; a roll of bandage; knee and wrist compression sleeves; a pair of fingerless gloves; a headlamp; a Leatherman Wave; his wallet; an extra pair of socks and shoes; an unopened bottle of blue Gatorade in a side pocket.

- Wears a sports watch; breathable but still warm clothing that allows him to move freely; a pair of minimalist shoes with good grip (evil GM note: while it’s quiet as can be on the usual grounds and floors, and grippy on walls and when slippery/wet, it might screech if his foot accidentally kicks on certain surfaces).

Weapons:
- Whatever handy and around that he could use
- A switchblade
- The Leatherman, secondary.

An idea of the character's forte: Dying Light - Parkour POV

Character Sheet:

Name:
Miguel Ordornio

Gender:
Male

Age:
32

Appearance:


Medical Ailments:
None

Nationality:
Filipino American

Occupation:
Former Filipino Soldier, Latest Occupation SWAT

Four Week History:
Before all hell broke loose in Washington DC, there was a reunion. A reunion between friends and partners. All veterans of the war in Mindinao. Former soldiers meeting in an old warehouse, drinking booze and playing poker. Sharing old war stories and how current occupation in the current police force was getting boring. Jokes were made and fun was had.

Miguel awoke in his apartment a day later. By then his brain was aching and the ringing in his ears couldn't stop. He opened the curtains and revealed the chaos. It was quite the sight to see. Decaying human corpses ip eating people alive isn't the thing you see everyday. So of course Miguel reacted how any human being would. He vomited.

After a few hours of just being depressed, vomiting and moping around, Miguel got his act together. Arming himself with his SWAT gear (he is quite a paranoid man) and his trusty Beretta 92 and his CAR-15 Carbine he smuggled last night to shoot beer cans. His first scuffle with the shamblers went very well in all honesty. He shot them all with his Beretta. Quite anticlimactic but Miguel wasn't aiming to fail and get eaten by real life zombies.

Since then, the four weeks were quite the blur. It included herpes, hookers, guns, getting run over, cocaine, meth, Mary Jane, shotguns and obvious decaying flesh. It was quite the fun. Walking around aimlessly and running like a headless chicken whenever you see the horde.

He found a camp in a gymnasium and who would've thought, some assholes barged in his camp! It was kinda bullshit! Of course, Miguel didn't notice and just kept cleaning his Carbine, uncaring of the outside. He's not the smartest of fellows, but he did get a PHD for.... what was it? Nuclear Physics or something? I dunno. And then BAM! We're here.

Items of Interest:
Carries everything in this Backpack

Food
-4 bottles of 500ml (full) (1/2 kilogram)
-1 can of Canned Beef (1/4 kilogram)
-2 cans of Canned Peacked (1/4 kilogram)

Miscellaneous
-Divers Watch
-Compass
-Poster of Australian Exotic Dancer
-HB Pencil
-T-shirt with words "SWEGGITY SWEG" on it

Weapons:
-CAR-15 Carbine (2.72 kilograms)
-Beretta 92 (950 grams)
-Police Baton

Name: (Rank) Captain (Family Name) Ishida (Given Name) Hisashi

Gender: Male

Age: 45

Appearance: Hisashi is not a very tall man, standing at the average height of 1.78m. As he had been practising in the traditional arts of Kenjutsu, Iajitsu and various other armed and unarmed sports, he is toned and hardy, though not to the point of excess that could only be gained through bodybuilding. He found solace in such tradition, but regarded them more as art and fitness regime than anything. His eyes are a dark shade of brown that they appear black in less than bright settings, and as such can be hard to read at times. His hair is simply black, as it would be for Asians. Being a soldier, and being traditional, he doesn't dye it. However, as he is more civilian in attitude than military, he did not adopt the standard short, spiky hair, but has let it grow a little bit longer right to the edge of military requirement. He thought it would put his patients at ease.



Medical Ailments: Undiagnosed PTSD

Nationality: Japanese

Occupation: UN-JSDF 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai Division Medical Officer

Four-Week History: Captain Ishida Hisashi and his UN-blessed unit comprising of logisticians, medics, medical officers and combat engineers were based in Africa where it all began. To his understanding, it was supposed to be a UN aid mission. dispensing help in several key ways to a country overrun with poverty, internal strife and disease. He'd witnessed how it all began, and was hopeless to stop it in any way, despite being one of the doctors assigned to treat the suffering patients and help research to find a cure. He could only be grateful that his superiors disallowed him from executing his own patients, as they saw that he was too weak for such a thing, especially when many of them were children.

He personally watched as Togo was slowly consumed by the dead, as well as the living, as he sailed away towards Africa to the United States. He made his objection to the move known, but there was nothing he could do. The United States was just as much in chaos. The disease knew no boundaries, did not distinguish between the rich and the poor, or the powerful and the weak.

The same pattern seemed to be emerging, which Captain Ishida found distressful. People dying, the country slowly consumed by both the living and the dead. All he and his unit could do was to apply their antiseptic and bandage and hope to weather the days for themselves and those they protect. He saved as many as he could.

It was in the United States that orders came in from Japan that they were reformed into the new 'Kyonshikirapeitai' unit. Supplies to accommodate this were promised but never came due to complications (predictably), but the United States military did provide them with suits of riot gear.

Which was when his squad encountered a whole horde of them. They couldn't move however, as they were helping to evacuate a convoy to the Easton Safe Zone. They had to stand their ground and fight, which was how his squad was scattered. With the few men he had with him, he had been on the retreat ever since, as a splinter of the horde continued to pursue them. It was only recently that he thinks they'd lost them. And now they would have to work their way back to their home away from home.

ITEMS OF INTEREST:
- Type 88 Helmet with Visor.
- Helmet Camera.
- Radio set.
- Kevlar Vest.
- Riot Suit with hinges at knees area for leg support and powering electronics via kinetic energy, built in compartments for holding the following: water canteen, hydration bladder, 2 additional magazines for pistol, 2 for rifle.
- Forearm Mounted Computer with tactical software, GPS, Medical assistant, mission logs, camera feed and a whole host of other programmes.
- JSDF Woodlands Camo uniform with equipments matching in style.
- Captain's rank patch.
- Medical Officer's Brassard.
- 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai's Brassard.
- Japanese Flag Patches.
- Medic's fieldpack w/ solar panel connected to all electronics. Fieldpack contains personal field kit including another 3 sets of uniform, toiletry kit, a pair of sandals, jogging shoes, 6 packs of MCW/LRP Rations (there used to be more but he wasn't resupplied) and 3 packs of accessory rations (which contains morale boosters like biscuits and candy and coffee powder), entrenching kit, rifle cleaning kit, sewing kit. He is carrying medical supplies inside, which includes a medkit, surgical tools, drugs (anaesthetics, paralysing agent, antibiotics, painkillers, etc), medical supplies and even health supplements for relief work.

WEAPONS:
- Howa Type 89-F Rifle, carbined with foldable stock, RCF Module and Bayonet.
- SCK/Minebea 9mm Pistol, aka Sig Sauer P220.
- 2 Fragmentary Grenades.

Secondary Characters:
Name: (Rank) Sergeant (Family Name) Himura (First Name) Maiko
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Medical Ailments: Undiagnosed PTSD
Nationality: Japan
Occupation: UN-JSDF 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai Division Medic

Name: (Rank) Private First Class (Family Name) Wakahisa (First Name) Ichiro
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Medical Ailments: Undiagnosed Depression
Nationality: Japan
Occupation: UN-JSDF 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai Division Line Infantry (Armed with riot shield and pistol)

Name: (Rank) Sergeant (Family Name) Yamauchi (First Name) Katsuo
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Medical Ailments: Undiagnosed PTSD, Depression, *SHUFFLER BITE 1 HOUR AGO* (Bitten in the leg so he can't walk fast nor far without support)
Nationality: Japan
Occupation: UN-JSDF 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai Division Line Infantry (Lost his rifle and bayonet but still has a pistol)

Name: Amelia Fairley
Nickname: Amy
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Appearance:
Medical Ailments: None

Nationality: Scottish-American

Occupation: Highschool teacher

Four Week History: Right after the terrorizing pandemic hit the state, residents from Amy's suburban home were planning to evacuate onto safer shelters until further notice by the government or at least when hell calms itself down. That's what they believed for the time being as they were mostly misinformed by the media about the outbreak's coverage. People were oblivious about the truth, some even had established beliefs of their own, telling themselves that the government had planned a safe evacuation route for all citizens to take. They foolishly made that assumption until the chaos unraveled itself as they moved out from their homes. Some didn't make it unfortunately, even when it was just the first few days of their supposed 'exodus'.

Amy's ex-husband was there for the purpose of helping her and their two kids. Their plan was to evacuate at the area where her ex-husband believed to be a safer ground since it was barricaded by a few construction workers that resided there. They left together with the residents but soon after - while travelling through the highways - they were cornered by a horde. Everything erupted into a chaotic turmoil as people panicked. While some remained calm, the entire exodus crumbled and it only became worse. One after another, they were harvested by the dead. Some managed to hack their way through by taking another route with their vehicles, one of those were Amy's family. They tried to deviate from the highway and onto the narrow roads leading to the forest. However, before they could even make progress, an explosion - which was believed to be a gas leak - blazed the entire scene within seconds.

Flames multiplied as they seared their way to one vehicle after another. Within the first several minutes after the explosion, Amy found herself lying dizzily on a car travelling as she noticed the thick black smoke billowing towards the sky. She then realized that it wasn't her ex-husband's car after she recognized her neighbors at the front seat. They explained to her what happened, telling that her family survived the explosion. But that didn't help her at all and instead, she grew desperate on finding them. Chances were slim at that time and even when Amy knew it was impossible at that moment, she persisted. Her neighbors refused to let her go, especially when the dead were running rampant. They continued to drive for days until they eventually ended up at the Dulles International Airport after gas ran out. There they've met a couple of people who have one goal in mind and that is to survive.

Amy remembered what her ex-husband had said and the place where they were supposed to evacuate. It was her main destination if only she was specifically informed about it but still planned to go there nonetheless, if chances were to increase. Right now, her only hope is to reunite with her family as soon as possible.

Items of Interest: A backpack containing:

• 4 canned food (2 meat loaf and 2 canned spaghetti)
• 2 1L bottles of water (one of them is half empty)
• clothing
• 3 family pictures
• 1 bar of soap
• 1 bottle of shampoo
• perfume
• powder
• antibiotics

Weapons:

• a pair of brass knuckles and a kitchen knife.