DayZ Storytime is a recurring feature we run, giving the community and our staff a chance to share their favorite stories from the popular ARMA II mod, DayZ. DayZ is about surviving, about building yourself a life and a future from essentially nothing - knowing that every passing minute may be your last and that a single bullet may bring your whole world crashing down, for good.
When you play DayZ, you're creating a story - here is your chance to tell that story.
An Apology to George
As told by agippo
After applying the DayZ mod to ARMA, I sat, waiting with baited breath, the loading screen staring at me for what seemed like hours as I toyed nervously with the mouse.
Suddenly the black screen comes to life, the ticker in the bottom corner of my screen types out the words “three valleys”, then disappears, leaving me alone with a torch, a bandage and a mass of open space.
“So, do I start with a weapon here?” I ask into my headset to my friends who have been speaking so highly of the game for months.
“Nah, you used to start with a pistol, but they stopped that, you have a torch though, you should be fine,” (I hear laughing from the other “friends” on the teamspeak channel). The voice sparks up again, "grab some decent loot and come find us, we are in Mogilevka".
His friends were probably lying to him
It was clear that offering sod all support to a newcomer was to be part of the DayZ ritual for my friends, so I set off in the direction of the clouds to make my fortune.
Fast forward a few hours, and I feel I may have accidently downloaded a bush running simulator rather than the great game my friends reccomended. However after some sneaking, and some crawling, and some bare skin wrestling with an inventory interface created by Satan himself. I finally find myself on the outskirts of Msta armed with my first weapon, the Lee Enfield. The chucking voices in my ear on teamspeak inform me that “The Dinnerbell” is a superb weapon for attracting zombies and I should feel free to shoot it anytime I find myself in need of a zombie.
Creeping between the few deerstands in the area and finding a host of ammo for brilliant guns I don’t own, I return to the barn in Msta to placate my thirst. The once green indicator It has been steadily darkening, and is now as red as a baboons bum in mating season. Sneaking into the barn I find nothing to drink, so I begin to sneak out again into the open field, past a few zombies lurking up the road. 20 meters out of the barn, I turn around, looking back to ensure no zombies have seen me.
My heart stops, there laying prone, facing me is another player. Just meters from the barn entrance I just left.
“Shit guys, I have another player here," I yell franticly. My friends stories of their exploits in DayZ have all made it clear that being shot by other players is the most common way to die, and that the majority of other survivors will kill you for your loot in an instant.
“Has he seen you?” the voice in my headphones shoots back.
“I bloody think so, he’s prone, facing me and 40 meters away at the most,” I reply.
“It may be fine, don’t worry yet, just...” One friend starts to say, before he is cut off by a yell of “SHOOT HIM!!”. I recognise the voice of Bill, our resident psycho cutting over the top on the voice channel, “SHOOT HIM BEFORE HE GETS YOU." Bill’s advice is tempting in its simplicity, and I place the iron sights on the prone player facing me.
“Does he have a gun pointed at you?” the rational voice returns, as Bill takes a break to breathe.
“I dunno, he is lying down in the grass, I can only see the top of him” I reply. My finger hovering over the trigger.
“SHOOT HIM, OR HE’LL GET YOU FOR SURE," Bill is back with his one click approach to problem solving.
I panic and shoot, a plume of blood that clearly takes its acting cues from Quentin Tarantino leaps up from the man lying in the field. My previously virgin headshot, and murder count both suddenly display the number “1” next to them. A message pops up on my screen; “George has died”.
I rush to the body to find some painkillers, a bandage, a pepsi, some random ammo and a hatchet. No gun, no crossbow, no grenade, no ranged weapon of any sort.
George, if you're reading this...I’m sorry I killed you.
I’m sorry my first shot ever in DayZ was a cold blooded murder and I’m sorry if you were blundering with the controls trying to get me on chat when I opened up your head like a ripe watermelon.
However, what I really hope is that if you were a decent chap before I shot you, I hope your brush with me hasn’t turned you into a heartless killer that murders everyone on sight, lest you be murdered again. DayZ already has too many assholes, I shudder to think my first interaction with another player was to add to this fact.
Have a DayZ story you want to share? Fire up your favorite word processor, write up the story and send it to firstname.lastname@example.org. Bear in mind punctuation, structure and spelling. We will add images but can't correct poor grammar or spelling.