[center][img]http://i1310.photobucket.com/albums/s655/Andy_Forge/wkd_zpszbo8ynzd.png[/img] [color=black][h3][b]Status: Open and accepting Positions open: 5 Soldier positions available: 2 Sword permissions available: 1 News: Currently looking for Co-Gm PM if interested[/b][/h3][/color] [hider=Opening Story (Req. Read)] [b]01500 Hours Northern Barricade New Haven South Carolina[/b] [b]“Enough Sir! We can't let you in unless you are thoroughly searched for infection!”[/b] Roland rolled his eye's as he casually sat nearby in what could only be described as a nailed down bank tellers chair from 1951. Uncrossing his leg from a top his knee he slid down in the chair on his make shift platform from a top the barrier wall, slipping forward he leaned the chair back and looked at the sky. He hated days like today, when too many new people stumbled in to their encampment, they always gave trouble because they were too damn proud to drop their pants and get checked. Two years ago when he had found this small town among the rubble with his soldier brethren he never expected it to become one of the last legit hopes for humanity. He had been looking for a safe haven to call home, and now this safe haven was home to almost five hundred people now. He did not want to relive his first year of infection, moving from place to place every single day, never staying any one place for more then a couple hours, looters, marauders, rapists, pigs, gangs, every bad thing you could think of day after day after day. He had truthfully given his share of blood sprayed across the ground, the blood of people he had for thirty years of his life protected from terrorism and those who would destroy their way of life. But now it was like a bloody free for all and whoever comes out on top is the champion, it was take and take not ever give anymore in this world. [b]“I ain't removing my pants for a bunch of gay bitches! Go find another ass to look at and let me in god damn it!”[/b] Roland sat forward as he sighed deeply, this man was getting on his nerves, not only was he screaming incoherently at his men but he was probably drawing in the Walkers for miles with his stupid yelling. Roland got up from his tellers chair as he walked forward and jumped down from the small platform overlooking the northern barricade. Walking to the front gate he put his hand on the soldiers shoulder and moved his aside as he looked at the man in front of him. He was an middle aged man of perhaps forty at best, skinny and emaciated from the looks of it. From what Roland knew this man was probably stir crazy from lack of food an d probably even water, given ground water wasn't safe anymore thanks to the Walkers swimming in the lakes and falling in wells. It didn't matter though, no one entered unless thoroughly checked that was the rule and if you didn't like it then you could leave easy enough. [b]“Sir I am the head of this lovely security force that you keep talking to in a bad manner. I am only going to say this once so listen. You will not come past this gate unless you get your ass in that makeshift guard house and allow one of my men to search you. We will not allow possible infection to reach past the gate, not for me, not for you, not for the president of the United states himself. So your two options are this, my way or the highway, simple, logic.”[/b] Roland became silent after his little talk with the older looking male, the man seemed to be getting it as he sighed and put his head down almost as if in shame. Roland was about to turn away when the old man reached into his jacket at his side. Pulling his hand out revealed and Beretta 92 handle, the man was going to attack. Roland quickly pulled his own side arm, a Colt.45 with all the special trimmings and pointed it at the man who went wide eye'd with the gun now in his face his hand just barely out of his jacket. Every man at that gate was now tensed, their guns raised, Roland spoke quickly but decisively towards the old man. [b]“Two fingers old timer, take it out and put it on the ground, kick it away from yourself...”[/b] The old man suddenly became very tense, this was the moment when either he would try to pull a gun on them and he would be shot, or he would finally see they were not screwing around with him. Wouldn't be the first crazy old codger that tried to do it, and there was always a chance it wouldn't be the last time. The man was completely still, the air was thick with tension now, everyone was waiting for the final performance to begin, the last act so the speak. Ever so slowly the old man removed his hand from his jacket pocket and put his hands in the air. Slowly putting down all but two fingers he reached into his jacket and slowly pulled the Beretta out by the hook and slowly set it on the ground kicking it away. Roland kept his weapon pointed at the man put his hands on top of his head. [b]“Corporal would you please escort our friend to the guard house and give him a search now, Sergeant you go with them and make sure nothing happens. If he clears inspection escort him to the temporary quarantine center and get him settled in, make sure to get him a hot meal and water. Also give him a pat down just in case before the search commences we don't need anymore death around here.”[/b] Two Yes Sir's were heard as two men unlocked the front gate and walked out, Roland slowly lowered his Colt.45 and slipped it back into its holster. He was seriously getting too old for this cowboy and Indians bull shit. [b]“I am going to take a walk, remember we have a meeting at 01900 tonight in the Command Center, after guard rotation whoever is not at the barricades, makes sure your their.”[/b] Roland walked away from the barricade and started his way down the street, as he cleared site of the barricade he was filled with the sight of families and children. The smell of BBQ was almost in intoxicating as many of the refurbished houses had people sitting in front of them. Roland kicked a soccer ball back across the street to an overjoyed young man as he smiled and nodded to the family who had waved at him. It was hard to believe they were living in the end times when he looked at the scene in this town, for the briefest of moments it almost made it bearable knowing what lay outside this town. As much as he would not admit it, these people had become like a family to him, every single one of them. He knew mostly everyone in this town, after all he was personally in charge of seeing any who enter and making sure no crime happened within the compound itself. He had become what you might call the Mayor of this town in a sense, the people had begun to look up to him for safety among other things. [b]“Heya Roland you want a burger?!”[/b] Roland looked over with a smile to one of the many fathers in the community who was grilling in his front yard. Walking over Roland spoke: [b]“Hey Herb hows its been going?”[/b] [b]“The usual Colonel, trying to keep these little escape artists from tunneling under the barricades. They want so much to see whats on the other side, I would rather tell them but Karen wants too wait until they older. Makes me think though... what would have happened if we had never found this place, they would no doubt be hip deep in blood by now...[/b] Roland put a firm yet soft gripped hand on Herbs shoulder speaking again: [b]“Don't let your thoughts get to you Herb, there is no point is asking what could have been or what might be. Sometimes you just gotta live in the moment and let the chips fall where they may. As much as we would like too, we can't control the world around us, e just have to hit the ground running and be strong.”[/b] [b]“Your right Colonel no point in living in the past... now about that burger?”[/b] [b]“Oh no Herb I had a big breakfast this morning so I am still reeling from that but if your willing some of the men at the Northern Barricade could use something to eat. After today's newest civilians, were all going a bit tired.”[/b] [b]“You got it Colonel just let me throw a few more on the barbe.”[/b] Roland nodded to Herb as he continued on his walk, it was like walking back in time, a time before all this hell. But in the end Roland had to remember that this was not like the old days, and no matter what it never would be. An that was something he knew for a fact would remain the same until the day he died or was eaten. [b]01900 Hours Meeting Room Command Center New Haven South Carolina[/b] [b]“Gentleman thank you for coming on such short notice, I know we all have duties to get too and I do not like when the barricade is down man power so lets get too it. Corporal Stern if you will record the meeting so others may listen later on?”[/b] Stern nodded as Roland watched him place a hand held tape recorder on the table with an electronic beep it started to record. [b]“Now it has come to my attention that more and more refugees are coming to the camp daily, obviously space is quickly becoming an issue. We don't want to have over crowding, which means unfortunately that we are going to be doing our favorite activity... expanding the wall and including more viable buildings for residents to live in. Unfortunately due to a mishap in last weeks supply run, we are down two men, Private Derk and Sergeant Mcgee. We can not afford to take man power off the barricades, and we are going to need five two man teams to start the scavenging and clearing operation. We are going to have to recruit freelancers, we are looking for anyone who has had extensive outside time in the wastelands. Corporal Benton, Private Puto, I am putting you two in charge of conscripts.”[/b] Roland became silent as he opened up a laptop on the table and started typing into it, a second later the projector attached to the laptop was clicked on as it illuminated the bare wall showing a diagram of the camp. [b]“Ideally we are going to be extending the walls here, here, and here.”[/b] Roland circled the for mentioned areas with black lines, then with a couple keystrokes he combined them all together forming what would be the new perimeter of New Haven. [b]“As you know it has become increasingly difficult to clear the land around our town, the walkers are coming in groups now and often occupy the buildings. In this case, our conscripts are going to be working with our five two man teams, I am hoping to get at least one conscript for every team to make each team three strong. Thanks to our luck in finding that ammunition stash we should be able to get this done without wasting too much of our ammo. There will be a special meeting in three days, teams will be posted, so keep an eye out for them, if your name is listed report to the assigned area which will be on the teams list. Now onto supplies...”[/b] Roland became silent when out of nowhere a huge shock wave shook the meeting room, an explosion could be heard in the distance. Roland tensed up almost immediately as he quickly walked to the radio set on the nearby table, clicking it on he quickly picked up the hand set and spoke: [b]“What the hell was that, report!”[/b] There was a thick bottle of static from the other end but no voice came over the com. [b]“God damn it some body report in, what the hell was that explosion?!”[/b] There was another bottle of static before there was a click from the other end, a weak voice came over the line, in the backgrounds feint screams could be heard. [b]“The gates.... are gone.... walkers... everywhere....”[/b] [b]Disembodied voice of Colonel Roland Paxton[/b] [i]New Haven fell that day... and with it fell what I considered our last hope for humanity. The attack was swift and decisive, who did it still remains a mystery, but the cost on the other hand was everything. When the gates fell we tried to contain the threat, and we would have if it had not been for what I could say was the largest group of walkers I had ever seen. They set upon us like a tidal wave the following night, there was no chance, everyone... died. I was the only one who managed to escape the slaughter, I don't know how. With my men gone, my city in ruins, I once again found myself a wanderer, trying just to find some place safe to reside. The difference... I was alone this time and my chances of survival... slim at best. Through bad or worst I eventually found myself in a new town that had been fortified by a bunch of civilians who have dreamed of a better life. They called it Hope Town now I am nothing more then an old man who once upon a time used to be significant. I spend my days sitting on a torn up porch watching as life slowly slips away, the people in Hope town are kind too me. But I feel like my time is finally up, my survival only a fluke that leads to my eventual death.[/i] [b]“Roland?”[/b] Roland slowly looked up from the journal in which he had been reading his last entries from months ago. A young man named Johnathon Landon, the man who pretty much kept Hope town together stood in the doorway. [b]“John... is there anything I can do for you?”[/b] [b]“Um actually yes there is Roland or Colonel, whatever you used to be called, there is a man at the gate under guard. He claims to know you and says he needs to speak to you. I don't know about what he is being quite secretive.”[/b] Roland was a bit taken aback when John had called him Colonel, he had been ever so specific to not tell anyone in Hope Town that he had once been military. Even more so the fact that there was somebody alive now who did was even more of a mystery, and the fact that they found him at all is amazing all in its own. [b]“Ok John I will speak to this man, would it be possible to move him to the old general store nearby? I can meet him there in five minutes.”[/b] John nodded his approval as he walked out of the tent, Roland looked back down at the journal on the table as he sighed to himself before closing it. Picking it up he slid it into his black pack and wrapped it around his shoulders. [b][b]01934 Hours Old Drug store New Hope North Carolina[/b][/b] [b]“Its been a long time Colonel I am glad to see you alive if not well in these trying times.”[/b] Roland sat across the table from a man who from sight to be about fifty years old, the same age as Roland himself. He was a rather short but well built older gentleman with a thick beard but a shaven head. He was dressed entirely in old army drags from foot to head. Roland had an ever urging feeling that he knew the man, but just couldn't place him. [b]“Who are you? Obviously we must have known each other or you have heard of me because almost anyone who knew me in the military is dead or long gone somewhere in this hell hole of a world.”[/b] [b]“My name is Carl Benson I have no illusions that you would remember me, I was part of a covert black ops assignment that you ran almost fifteen years ago to the day. I was in a manner of speaking your cohort to apprehend a rather dangerous turn coat who had been supplying other countries with vital government military placements in the pacific west. My code name back then was Black Wolf, we never really meant in person.”[/b] Roland crossed his arms as he looked at the man, of course he remembered that operation, it was called Operation Dead drop, for dead drops were their only means of communication with the man who was supplying them with information on the sly to captor the turn coat. But truth be told a mission from fifteen years ago in a world like this was not much of a bother to Roland now seeming secrets didn't much matter anymore. [b]“Its obvious your well informed Carl, that or well read, but unfortunately a fifteen year ago operation does not really answer the question of why you seeked me out or even knew where I was to begin with. I was never one to beat around the bush so could we speed up the conversation to the point that is relevant to me?”[/b] [b]“Still have not changed much have you Colonel? Well might as well get down to it then. I have known your location for some time now, understand that I had intended to approach you months ago in New Haven. But after the terrorist cell bombed the hell out of it and destroyed it, you can understand that we were not able to make acquaintance under the circumstances.”[/b] [b]“Terrorist Cell? What the hell are you going on about, how the hell would terrorists even still exist and why would they bomb a refugee camp?”[/b] [b]“Why do terrorists do anything they do Colonel? The reasons are best left to those who write reports, but I know that these particular men found out your identity long ago when you still ran operations out of the Covert base in Guam. I suppose that perhaps they wanted revenge for something you did, that's not really important to me and I am sure at this point it is not important to you. What is important is life Colonel and that's exactly why I came to you.”[/b] Roland sat silently, his body was increasingly tense now, the mention of the incident at New Haven had brought back the anger he felt watching his friends and the people he had come to call family die. Clenching his fists on the table Roland spoke again the edge clear in his voice: [b]“Is there a true point to this Benson because opening up still healing wounds is not a good idea right now. Why the hell did you come here and why to talk to me? What do you mean by life being important? Are those bastards going to attack Hope Town?”[/b] [b]“Thankfully no Colonel they believe you to be dead far as I know. No I cam here because your one of the best Covert Black Operations Soldier in probably the entire continent. You have had over fifty successful missions in your thirty year long career. You did things in your youth in the field that people thought impossible to accomplish but you found a way...”[/b] Roland quickly cut off Carl and spoke to him in a rather harsh tone his patience now worn incredibly thin: [b]“Are you going to tell me what the hell you want Benson, I don't need a history lesson, none of that matters anymore in this new hellish world... as far as anyone is concerned I am just an old man who owned a general store for his whole life and that is that. Cut to the chase...”[/b] Benson sighed audibly as he shook his head at Roland and stood up, reaching down he unbuttoned the military coat he was wearing revealing a green blood mottled shirt beneath, pulling the shirt up he revealed his stomach. Roland nearly went wide eye'd as he saw Benson's stomach. His stomach was covered with a massive scar, the bite marks around the edges were undeniably from Walkers. Its looked like a Walker had torn him open by mouth to eat him. [b]“Yes Colonel its exactly what it looks like, and I have many similar bite marks on my arms and legs as well. These are all bites from walkers over a course of three years now...”[/b] [b]“Thats...... impossible.... its a lie.... there is no way.... you should be....”[/b] [b]“Dead? Yes I know Colonel that or one of those walking abominations out there. But I am not Roland, somehow out of the millions who succumbed to the virus... I am immune to it. It came as a shock to me as well when I was downed in a city scavenging for supplies three years ago, I had managed to save myself if only from being completely eaten alive, I figured myself done for even if I somehow survived the trauma.... but I didn't somehow my body fought the infection. The only reason I survived was because a doctor happened to come across me not realizing I had been torn open by a walker and saved my life. Over the course of the years before this point I have tested the theory letting myself be bitten time and time again and every time I survived without turning.”[/b] Roland was silent, completely and utterly silent and stunned for that matter, as much as he wanted to believe this was some kind of hoax, there was no way to disprove those bite marks or the scars, hell why would anyone even attempt to fake something like that? [b]“If this is true.... then why did you seek me out Carl?”[/b] [b]“Its quite simple Colonel, through unconventional means I found out that a CDC lab in Washington D.C. Is still operating under military control. Its sort of what is being called in military channels as our last great hope to beat this disease. From what I have learned they have samples of the very first infected, and are the only ones who appear to be close to figuring out how to combat this virus, give us a chance to survive. I am immune Colonel which means in a matter of speaking that I am probably one of the most important people alive right now. I need to get to that building Colonel and I need to get there alive. But because of my numerous injuries especially in my stomach I can't fight like I used to... in fact I can barely defend myself anymore hand to hand. You were the best at what you did Colonel, I need your help, this could be the end of this entire hellish existence. One last chance to live in a world that's not filled with death and chaos... Will you help me?”[/b] [/hider] [Hider=Welcome Message] Hello and welcome to TWD:OLC first and foremost the opening story is very important and has vital plot points for this role-play so it is required reading. Usually I just give a short description of the plot, but given the time it took to write the opening story I figured it wouldn't hurt to just let you read it. Now with that said lets move on and get some important details out of the way and answer a few FAQ's. Q. What is the exact time frame for this role-play and how long has the infection been happening? A. The current year is unknown given it was never revealed for the show and I like it that way, it has been three years since the initial infection started Q. Where will this role-play be taking place? A. The story is going to start in North Carolina, I will not be naming specific locations we can make up towns as we go to keep it simple and not confusing. Q. What writing level will I need to be in this role-play? A. I am making this role-play high casual low advanced or in other words I want paragraphs and details. I don't need a book but I want effort. Q. Can we be soldiers or bad asses in this role-play? A. I am only allowing maybe one or two soldier type characters this includes cops and swat team members, leaders are necessary but I don't want a team of hardened killers. First come first serve. Q. What kind of weapons can I have? A. I am going to allow against my better judgment free reign on weapons, [u]however[/u] I do not under any circumstances want to see grenade launchers, RPG's, chain guns, or any variation of a two handed sword i.e. flails, ball and chain etc etc. Q. So can I have like a samurai sword or something that is one handed? A. I am going to allow maybe one person to have a sword, this is because most people who have swords like this make themselves invincible with them cutting off heads and the sorts. This role-play is going to be realistic so stick to bats, crow bars, small knives, etc etc. Q. So um how detailed should my bio be? A. I want a well detailed bio this will show me that your willing to put the effort into not only your character but the role-play itself. I am looking for dedicated players. If there are any other questions then this then feel free to of course ask me, I am open to any and all questions. If your stuck or don't know what to put then ask I don't bite. With these out of the way I want to state that I am looking for dedicated people, I am looking for maybe five or six good people to take spots in this role-play, again first come first serve.[/hider] [hider=Rules]These will be my rules, I know we all sigh when we see them but lets just give them a read and get through this: 1. Follow all guild rules and the ones I will list below, if you choose not to then I will be using a strike system, once you hit strike three your out. Simple as that. 2. Respect your fellow role-play mates, I don't tolerate down right disrespect, razzing and playing around is fine but if you get nasty I will step in and stop it but good. 3. Do not argue and clutter the OOC with stupid crap, if you want to talk about the role-play or something somebody did that you didn't like then do so, but don't argue and carry on. Take that to Pms. 4. Be mature about this role-play, as in if you couldn't do it in real life then don't do it in the role-play. If you climb a building naked with no rope attached to you perfectly and without falling then I will make you fall and so forth. Be realistic and not superman. 5. Do not God mod in any instance, your not invincible and you will not control a character that does not belong to you. Unless permission is given control your own character. 6. Swearing and blood are two things I tolerate an encourage [u]however[/u] know when enough is enough and when its too much. I.e do not over do it to a point where it offends or makes people sick. 7. Do not overload yourself with items and weapons, if you are carrying 100 pounds of crap don't expect it not to make a difference. Gravity does exist in this role-play so play accordingly. 8. If you read my rules I would like you to put “Walkers” at the end of your bio.[/hider] [hider=Biography] Name: Nickname: (opt.) Age: (18+) Gender: Appearance: (I am requiring either a picture with a description i.e. height, weight, eye color etc, or just a full description) Job before the outbreak: (Can be anything you want) Weapons: (One side arm, one main arm, and one auxiliary weapon) Items: (these are the items you carry with you this involves food, water, maps, etc etc. Remember weight is real in this role-play so be careful what you carry it will apply IC.) Armor: (This is optional but if you have some armor like shoulder pads knee pads, bullet proof vest put it here. No full riot armor!) Personality: (Give us a run down not a full on description that can be saved for the role-play itself.) History: (Tell us about what you have been doing the past three years during the infection, you don't have to reveal anything before that unless you choose too.) Other: (Anything else not mentioned)[/hider][/center]