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As a boy, I was taught that the monsters in the closet weren't real. That the faces under my bed weren't staring back at me. That the shadows darting across my room couldn't hurt me.

But that was many years ago. Now the world has changed. Gone are the imaginary demons that haunted my childhood dreams. They are replaced by an odious silence that not even the loudest of cries could pierce. The light and warmth of the sun has vanished, filled by the chilly, ominous darkness that now shrouds our fair city. Everywhere the putrid smell of rancid cesspools and rotting flesh fill the air, choking the lungs and hearts of those few who dare remain. The gloomy concrete skyscrapers of the downtown district rise quietly above a still city; mocking testaments to the forgotten greatness of man. But worst of all are the figures that haunt the streets and homes of our once proud capitol. Shadowy forms that shamble aimlessly in the dim alley-ways and abandoned warehouses, ignorant of anything save that primal hunger which urges them on another step. Silhouettes that shuffle with arms outstretched, eyes rolling, teeth snapping.

And for the first time in a long time, I am afraid.
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The capitol city of Wintreath has been overrun by the undead. Hordes of mindless zombies now wander the streets and corridor of the once splendid metropolis. You are a survivor in the midst of the chaos, alone and armed only with you wits and a small array of equipment at your disposal. In the form provided below, you will create your very own character who will endeavor to forge an existence in this apocalyptic hellhole. You are free to customize your survivor as you wish, but please remember that this is an apocalypse world and things such as worldwide electricity, global communication, and standing armies and governments no longer exist. At best small high walled villages of 1,000 and the biggest is known has the Castle, where 3,000 humans live. Feel free to interact with other survivors as you wish, just make sure you do so in character!

While unable to think for themselves, the zombies act like primates with human bounds. That means anything a human can or cannot do, a zombie can or cannot do.  At the same time, the undead are driven on by a primal hunger that knows no limit. Zombies cannot feel pain, do not suffer from fatigue, and can only be killed if the brain is compromised, severed, removed, etc. Keep this in mind while creating your character.


Name:
Age:
Occupation (before the Infection):
Personal Attire:
Weapons (limited to two at any time):
Backstory:

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Name: Barron
Age: 35
Occupation (before the Infection): Cultural Consultant
Personal Attire: Lightly Armored   
Weapons (limited to two at any time, only one firearm): Chinese Da Dao and Revolver
Backstory: Before the Infection, I was a well to do consultant who took classes in tai chi and gun defense classes. I never knew that it would ever come in handy. I had to kill my family and my two best friends. I now work as a freelancer teacher of self defense. I am stopped at Little Wall to see my friend Lord Grimes and to train his new recruits. After the fifth year of Infection, some guess only a quarter of the world's population is left. Horses are the preferred means of transport, and armor is a hot commodity since They cant bite through it. Well, enough of me rambling about this hellhole we call Earth, fight with ferocity, and never forget that you are human and They aren't.   

As a boy, I was taught that the monsters in the closet weren't real. That the faces under my bed weren't staring back at me. That the shadows darting across my room couldn't hurt me.

But that was many years ago. Now the world has changed. Gone are the imaginary demons that haunted my childhood dreams. They are replaced by an odious silence that not even the loudest of cries could pierce. The light and warmth of the sun has vanished, filled by the chilly, ominous darkness that now shrouds our fair city. Everywhere the putrid smell of rancid cesspools and rotting flesh fill the air, choking the lungs and hearts of those few who dare remain. The gloomy concrete skyscrapers of the downtown district rise quietly above a still city; mocking testaments to the forgotten greatness of man. But worst of all are the figures that haunt the streets and homes of our once proud capitol. Shadowy forms that shamble aimlessly in the dim alley-ways and abandoned warehouses, ignorant of anything save that primal hunger which urges them on another step. Silhouettes that shuffle with arms outstretched, eyes rolling, teeth snapping.

And for the first time in a long time, I am afraid.
--------------------------------------------
The capitol city of Wintreath has been overrun by the undead. Hordes of mindless zombies now wander the streets and corridor of the once splendid metropolis. You are a survivor in the midst of the chaos, alone and armed only with you wits and a small array of equipment at your disposal. In the form provided below, you will create your very own character who will endeavor to forge an existence in this apocalyptic hellhole. You are free to customize your survivor as you wish, but please remember that this is an apocalypse world and things such as worldwide electricity, global communication, and standing armies and governments no longer exist. At best small high walled villages of 1,000 and the biggest is known has the Castle, where 3,000 humans live. Feel free to interact with other survivors as you wish, just make sure you do so in character!

While unable to think for themselves, the zombies act like primates with human bounds. That means anything a human can or cannot do, a zombie can or cannot do.  At the same time, the undead are driven on by a primal hunger that knows no limit. Zombies cannot feel pain, do not suffer from fatigue, and can only be killed if the brain is compromised, severed, removed, etc. Keep this in mind while creating your character.


Name:
Age:
Occupation (before the Infection):
Personal Attire:
Weapons (limited to two at any time):
Backstory:

---------------------
Name: Barron
Age: 35
Occupation (before the Infection): Cultural Consultant
Personal Attire: Lightly Armored   
Weapons (limited to two at any time, only one firearm): Chinese Da Dao and Revolver
Backstory: Before the Infection, I was a well to do consultant who took classes in tai chi and gun defense classes. I never knew that it would ever come in handy. I had to kill my family and my two best friends. I now work as a freelancer teacher of self defense. I am stopped at Little Wall to see my friend Lord Grimes and to train his new recruits. After the fifth year of Infection, some guess only a quarter of the world's population is left. Horses are the preferred means of transport, and armor is a hot commodity since They cant bite through it. Well, enough of me rambling about this hellhole we call Earth, fight with ferocity, and never forget that you are human and They aren't.

You can of course, pick up new equipment and weapons along the way, but keep in mind that it is a zombie apocalypse and you can't be carrying around everything. If you pick up a new weapon, you must drop one that you already have. The main goal is to survive, and no matter how good of a weapon you have, it won't allow you to Rambo-commando the undead horde forever. Also, feel free to form alliances or even rivalries with the other players. You're not alone in this apocalyptic world, so don't forget to look for help if you need it.

Finally, the main goal is that everyone has fun. I will be moderating the topic to make sure nobody does anything offensive or outrageous, but what I really want is for everyone to get involved and get creative! So whip out those survival guides and brush up on your horror-flick knowledge; it's going to be a wild journey.

--Many Thanks to an old friend who re-vamped my original idea

Name : Azkevja Suerthlant

Age : 18

Occupation (before the Infection) : College Undergrad

Personal Attire : Polo Shirt; Blue Jeans
 
Weapons (limited to two at any time) : Swiss Knife; Crossbow
 
Backstory : Before the outbreak, Azkevja knew of many secrets the world held from everyone. Being poor, no one cared for him or even felt the emotion of love towards him. To the crowds above, he was an outcast, a failure, an accident. But his skills came in handy when the outbreak spread. He hid in the laboratory beneath his feet.

Name: Nova Arrakis Polaris
Age: Looks about early twenties
Occupation (before the Infection): Mercenary
Personal Attire: Black leather pants, metal combat boots, finger less gloves, long sleeved deep red shirt, and a black leather jacket
Weapons (limited to two at any time): A dagger, a shield
Backstory: Before the infection Nova was a mercenary for those who came to him. He was especially known to be close with The Golden Persian, who held a rather high, if very mysterious, rank in the Capital, close with the royalty. No one knew where Nova originates, how long he has been around, or his history. Some say he has demonic origin, others say he comes from the same place as the creatures that now wander the streets, while others simply have him as a very lucky person who is very good at what he does. One thing is very certain then: when he is around, something is abound.
 
  He has been absent for a while in the capital since the infection has started, but has recently made a return. The scavengers who scour the streets of the city say he is looking for something or someone. He has been showing face in the Castle, looking for information, though no one knows for what. Rumours float about, but no one is certain about his mission...