"Maybe I was born with it, Maybe it was Fate"
Shiiben, day 2:
A friend and I decided to try DayZ, just like the rest of you have. After a couple lives on each of our parts we finally managed meet up in Komarovo, one of the towns a short distance west of Cherno. We decided our first actions as a team would be to sneak into Cherno on a relatively low population server to get some basic necessities and then make our way north to live in the woods. Well, it could have gone better. Didn't see any players, but we would die to zombies. Or fall damage. Or god forbid, a bit of friendly fire. Seems like I looked like a zombie, and everyone knows zombie heads make the best resting spot for a hatchet.
We decided we'd hit the Balota Airstrip instead and just go from there. I got a Makarov PM and he a Double-barreled Shotgun. We had guns and ammo. We decided to go north and just wing it.
Skip ahead a while. We're now in some small village. We're close, but seperated. Through a series of unfortunate events, I manage to die to zombies, yet again, leaving my friend to loot my body for the pistol and continue pillaging. I'm still not sure why he did it, but he slammed his leg in an outhouse door until it broke. It's a pretty weird thing to do, but we decided he should head south again while go get some Morphine. It was a wasted effort, as he got half way back to Cherno and someone Axed him a question from behind. He never did answer.
Fast forward again. My friend has left for the night, but I'm a persistent bugger and want to get something out of Cherno. I decide to try the supermarket, as I've heard it can spawn useful things. Spawn useful things it did! I found my very first ALICE Pack. My first reaction was to instantly grab it and fill it with everything that I could use.
I started to crouch walk into the other rooms when it I saw him. The first player I'd seen in DayZ. I wasn't sure what to do. I could attempt to be friendly with him, but he had a gun while I only had a hatchet. Fortunately, he hadn't seen me yet. I decided. It was him or me, and I wasn't going to die.
It was time. I charged at him. He turned. I weaved. He shot. I slashed. I slashed again. I can't tell if I'm hitting him or the wall, all I know is I can't stop swinging. All of a sudden hurt dashes out one of the back doors I didn't know were there. I'm not that dumb though. I don't dare chase him through the door. Instead I sprint to the door I entered through and flanked him. I got up to him and slashed before he knew I was there. He went down! Crap! He's still alive, must've just broke his leg.
That's when he hit me. Turns out a point blank shotgun can do quite a bit of damage. Enough to take me down to roughly 2000 blood and bust my leg. So now we're both laying there with our legs broken, trying to kill the other. I managed to land one last shot on him, granting me the victory. With the slowest bandage ever applied I've managed to stop the bleeding at 600 blood. I loot his shotgun, his Makarov, and other goodies.
At this point, during any of my other lives, I would've just suicided. This life was different. I'd made progress, I couldn't just throw it away. These weapons, this backpack, they'd cost a man his life.
I had two options. I could wait for my friend, who wouldn't be on for hours, or I could hope for the help for a stranger. A third, non-existant option would be to crawl to the hospital with a broken lag and white shaking screen. Turns out there are a group of players who will save you, no questions. You need saving, they're there for you. It took awhile, but I managed to get saved. Only to die the next day to a player.
Shoutout to Daxx and the rest of the Reddit Rescue Force.