ericgrau
2013-06-01, 12:22 PM
It's great for online fan fic, especially if you post it in a place like giantitp for everyone here to read. We often find even unprofessional campaign logs to be amusing, so an immersive story form is all the better. Professionally you run into legal snags, narrow audience snags, etc.
HowlingWolf
2013-06-01, 01:47 PM
I don't write professionally--I had a bit of a talent for it as a kid, but I focused more on martial-arts as a kid so....I don't think I'm quite as good as I used to be. At any rate, the story is set in a small quiet town, a pair of friend's live together in a trailer-park. Now, my friend's character is much like herself (big shocker lol) and has a bit of an attitude, and a tendency to throw things lol. Her character is what she calls an Urban (or in her terms a
Trailerpark) Survivalist. (Kind of a expert/warrior mix)
Her character, Brandy, works a dead-end job, gets her kick playing with a crossbow and throwing knives. She spends most of her free time in the woods, and tends to avoid people. A bit of a loner, really. She has a good enough heart, especially for animals. Brandy is played as a support-character
whom when needed can fight at close or mid-range, hand-to-hand close or a
scoped crossbow at range. She tends to snipe frequently. She is a bigger girl
at 6'ft and 180 pounds.
--
All fictional names, places, characters, etc. The writing is heavy and gory, read at your own discretion and choice. ;-) I'm just writing this out based on a friend's gaming groups adventure and characters, to amuse myself and others.
--
Prologue:
It was a chilly spring evening in Oakville, the sun was beginning to drop down behind the mountains. Soon the stairs and moon began to shine, and the air was filled with the songs of crickets and insects. It was just another
day in a small quiet town, people worked, people went home, people watched t.v. On the outskirts of town sat a trailer park, populated by different people from various backgrounds. Most of them had less money than others, much like a pair of friends--Brandy and Brenda. Between the two of them, it was usually Brenda who was at home, as she was tonight,
while Brandy was likely off in the woods with her dogs.
--
Chapter One:
Brenda had endured a long grueling day at the diner waiting tables, evading grubby hands, and taking orders. Her feet ached, her back was sore,
and as usual she plopped herself down in front of the t.v. set. Another week,
another paycheck. Reaching over, she took the remote and flicked on the tube. She sat back, cracking open a beer. Rest....at last! Brenda took a long pull of her beer, it was cold and cooled her from her lips to her belly. She took another. Then another.. Soon she sat the emptied can aside, and pulled
another from the cooler at her feet (which also served as her foot rest).
As she sat watching the news, sipping her brew, she began to drift off to sleep. Her head soon lolled over, drool began to ooze from the corner of her mouth, and a heavy snore like the roll of thunder came forth. Brenda would not hear the shuffling of footsteps outside the trailer, nor the opening of the front door. She would not hear the footsteps, dragging onward, coming toward her...nor would she see the individuals whom had come to join her for dinner....and a movie. There were several of them, they moved sluggishly at first, but the closer they came...the quicker they moved. Driven by pain and hunger...nails and teeth sank into Brenda. Throat, stomach, thigh, forearm... She awoke, drunken and terrified, and helpless..
Brandy soon returned in her old pickup truck, three large rottweilers sitting in the truck bed. The old black truck whipped into the trailer's drive, sending dust and gravel flying. "What the f@#$?!" she said to herself, pushing her shades up to get a better look. The doors were NEVER left unlocked, let alone OPEN...not in this neighborhood. Brandy's instincts cried out to her, to run...to take the dogs...and get the hell out of dodge!! She left the keys in the ignition, swung open the door after grabbing her bat from the seat. "Brenda! Where the hell are you!? You left the door open, you idiot!"
she called out loudly, expecting to her roommate to stagger out with a new
boyfriend (whom often proved abusive).
By now the dogs had caught an unfamiliar scent, and were going ballistic in the back...snarling..growling..hunched down as if to pounce.
No one came, and no one called out. She started for the door, gripping the bat shortly in her hand. "Brenda! This ain't funny! Get out here, NOW!" she called once more. Tentatively she reached the door, stepping forward to peer inside, she lurched back. A blood-covered arm streaked out of the darkness of the doorway, reaching for her... "What the hell!?" she shouted,
stepping back. It came for her in moments, staggering forward, arms flailing viciously. It was old man Hal from three trailers over, the fifty year old man was ghostly white, his eyes had turned a shade of yellow. Blood and fresh flesh hung from his mouth, nails, and teeth. His fat belly was further bloated.
"Hal? You lost your d@#$ mind, boy?" she asked, taking yet another step back. He didn't respond, merely howled and lunged forward. "Jesus!" Brandy exclaimed, as if it were a ward, a shield to protect her. Reacting, she turned and brought the bat up in a vicious uppercut, catching the old man under the chin...throwing his head back...snapping his neck. Hal staggered for a moment, and then fell against the trailer's steps...he began to crawl, head lolling.. "Oh hell! Ohl s@#$!" she mouthed, completely unable to speak. The dogs now were nearly berserk, barking loudly and growling. She looked around, hoping to see Brenda... All she saw was more people, ghostly-white like old man Hal, flesh hanging from their mouth..
Their movements were slow and jerky, their eyes a sickly yellow. Over a dozen had crept upon her. She backed away, bringing a hand to her mouth,
tears welling in her eyes. "What the hell...what the hell...what the HELL!?" she muttered to herself, unable to believe what she was seeing. The worst was to come... Brenda had finally come to the door.. The once sweet girl, whose long blonde hair and green eyes had enchanted men at the diner, had become bloodied and her eyes yellow.. Brenda's neck was torn apart, as well as her stomach...intestines hanging, dangling back and forth with each step.
What started a low groan reached it's height as a blood-curdling, soul-shattering scream as Brandy realized whom she was looking at.. She took two steps back, nearly stumbling over a rock. "Nooo...noooo...NOOOO!!!"
she screamed, her jaws clenching, eyes narrowing. "NO!!" She strode forward, empowered...or rather, misled by her rage, and swung at the nearest attacker. The dogs took this as a sign to act, and leaping from the back of the old black truck...began to tear into the nearest target with abandon! Her well-trained muscles swung the bat with fearsome speed and power, and each swing that connected sent the diseased man staggering.
She swung, hard, again and again and again! With a roar of defiance and hatred, Brandy swung once more...the blow shattering the target's skull.
The bat exploded in a shower of spliters. Two more were coming on, and her weapon had broken... The dogs had, together, torn one of the attackers apart, a young man in a leather jacket. They promptly moved to another. She didn't let the splintered bat deter her, she bent down and grabbed a big brick in hand! Brandy readied herself, allowing one to come close enough that she could bean him. She swung the brick hard, aiming for it's skull, and she swung HARD! It connected with a sickly, wet thunk. It hit the ground, flailing. Brandy refused to stop, refused to die--she swung again! Again! Again...leaving the head a red, mushy pulp. "Leave us alone!" She cried, throwing the brick at another.
She looked to her right, planning to distance herself..maybe go for her crossbow...if she could only get to the truck. She turned...and found herself face-to-face with a hungry mouth. In that instant, she wondered if it was over... But a much more ferocious mouth found it's mark as Rex, a one hundred fifty pound ball of muscle, leapt and sank his K9s into it's neck. He dragged it to the ground like a rag-doll and began to shake his head with extreme determination. She watched the scene in horror, until it hit her! "My dogs!" she screamed. Brandy turned to see one of the dogs captured by a pair, and rushed to intervene.
She would NOT allow these...these...zombies to eat her dogs, her friends. Brandy charged headlong into one, bullrushing it to the ground, and grabbing the other by it's feet yanked it to the ground. The three dogs, led by Rex, set upon the others with abandon...ripping, biting, rending, tearing.
Coming to her feet, Brandy reached down, pulling a..rotted woman to her feet. "Leave my f@#%ing dogs ALONE!!" she screamed as loudly as her lungs would allow, swiveling at her hip, she flung the woman into the side of the truck. Pursuing her target, she took her by the head, and slammed it into the hood once, twice, again!
As the other started to rise, she quickly walked over, knowing the distance and reach of her leg by instinct. She spun into a roundhouse, sending the steel-toe of her boot into the side of it's head...she almost enjoyed the sickly wet crunch. Her instincts told her more would come... "Rex! Vicious! Biter! Let's go! In the truck!" she called after letting loose a loud whistle.
--
Brandy left the trailer park in a whirl of confusion, anquish, and pain. She had no idea what was going on, what had happened, or if the incident was effecting more than her own area. All she had now was her truck, a packed back, and her dogs. A crossbow sat beside her in the passenger seat. The truck, she soon saw, had only 3/4's of a full tank. ....
That was more or less the first few sessions. Between her character and the three dogs, they dropped about ten or more zombies. Her character is about 3rd level. 16 pb. :-) The dogs took advantage of flanking, and had slightly higher stats than those of a riding dog. Her character, Brandy, never uses anything but hand-to-hand, and improvised or simple weapons.
Powered by vBulletin® Copyright © 2024 vBulletin Solutions, Inc. All rights reserved.