So, I started a really bad day character and was happy to find antibiotics in the house next to the one I started in. I gathered a tiny bit of food and two sheets from a window for warmth and hunkered down in a bathtub for two days to overcome my amphetamine crash. Once sufficiently recovered (or rather when I ran out of food) I wandered out, doing my best to avoid trouble till I had some weapons and armor and whatnot.
Boy did it ever not go that way. There was a wad of zombies between me and the edge of town and houses in every other direction, so I snuck into a house and did my best. Wow, did it ever go bad. So many close calls, I escaped with no food water and almost no gear and nasty wounds on all limbs. I had a pot, so once I hit a river I was good on water and food, but no gear in the wild rough. I couldn’t find anything, no working vehicles, no weapons (I was using the pot for a very a long time), nothing useful anywhere. After a while I found a van and drove it towards the next town, planning on clearing a few edge houses and looting. Halfway there I run full on into a chicken walker. I didn’t even notice it was there until I was slamming on the breaks because there was a truck blocking the road. I slammed into, took the truck, and back on the road feeling extra badass.
Invincible kinda badass really. I ran that truck through a ton of zombies and was having so much fun I thought "Lets ram through that wandering zombie spawn north of town (there were three or four). I do so, and have fun mowing down zombies for a while. I get out to butcher the intact corpses, and off in the distance there’s an NPC. I decide to chase him down on foot and recruit him for some completely stupid ass reason. I do recruit him, but the 40 zombies that swarmed us killed him in just a few turns and I was left retreating back towards a safer area. They were between me and my miltruck. So I end up at a parking lot next to a mine, and decide to sleep in the big but inoperational truck parked there.
Yeah, I woke with maybe 2 dozen zombies on screen. Goddamn, this is getting out of hand. No problem, narrow cockpit for the truck, open the door and let them in one at a time. Take them out slowly. Nope, there’s a hulk barreling down on me like the judging hand of god. There’s a bike nearby that’s intact, maybe I can speed off. Nope, that lest step onto the saddle takes longer, so bam, I’m sent flying across the parking lot. Not looking for me. I run off into the woods. I’m not killing shit with my little hatchet. I have nothing to throw. I’m not outrunning it, so I start setting every shrub and small tree on fire. I try to position myself so it has to go over them. It’s hard to tell if it works, he moves 2-3 spaces of open ground for every one I do. It is working though, just really slowly. he hits me again, I’m sure it’s done. There’s no way. Pain is like 70 now. I light a bunch of bushes on fire as he approaches. He’s standing on one, one square from me. I weakly swing my hatchet, not even hitting. Bam, punch number 3. I have a half bar on head and torso, both arms are broken. He dies the next round.
Things got better after that but one of my arms never healed, even with a splint. Just a few minutes ago I ran into another zombie hulk. I was cursing, thinking I was screwed, but I filled him with steak knives and whupped him with a quarterstaff. Even with help from 3-4 other zombies of various calibers it didn’t manage a single hit on me. I drew this in recognition of this characters ascension to badassery.
