Advanced Role-Play Systems

  • Bio - Captain Mitchell - Paladin International

  • Describe your in-game persona
Describe your in-game persona
 #4270  by Paladin
 Fri Oct 30, 2015 2:18 pm
Back in 2010 I’d had enough. I had been serving in 42 Commando, Royal Marines based out of Plymouth in Devon. I had seen plenty of action over the past 15 years, a lot of crap and a hell of a lot of death. Our unit was the special boat service support group, so when the shit hit the fan we were always in the thick of it. I had done my fair share of covert ops and when my time was up I got out. I spent some time on Civy Street but it never sat right, I’d been forces for too long.
One evening down the pub I had a chance meeting with a corporal from my old unit. When I asked how he was making his living these days he said he was working in private security. The guy was jet setting all over the world popping in and out of hot zones and making in a week what I had been making on a Captain’s wage in a year. He worked for a company called Paladin International, a world trading security firm with a heavy side line in military contracts. He put in a word for me with the CEO and the rest, as they say, was history. Before the end of the year I had my own team of crack soldiers, a private army full of highly trained and motivated individuals, each with their own specialisation and we were off taking the jobs no one else wanted.
In 2012 we got pulled into the Ops room for briefing and told we would be loading up with full tac and bio gear and deploying to some eastern European hell hole to provide support for the local “Chernarus defence force”. Some sort of plague had broken out and they weren’t equipped to deal with the civil unrest. We knew there was a NATO contingent on their way and we would be liaising with them and providing path-finding and security along the way.
It wasn’t till the C130 hit the ground on some skid mark of an airstrip, in the North East that we realised we were fucked, the base was under attack, we could see the fires and hear the explosion in the distance. The walls were being bombarded not by civilians, but the living dead. I couldn’t believe what we were seeing, this couldn’t be; none of the sit raps had reported this. We bailed out and hit the ground running bolstering the rag-tag local forces and what peace keepers were there. It was too late the place was over run. We emptied clip after clip after clip, but the tide of shambling corpses was endless. I watched as some of my men fell to the tide, only to rise minutes later to join our attackers.
We bailed, I had 5 men left of the 12 I set out with in my company. 5 men, who had family’s back home waiting for them, like hell if we were going out this way. We bundled into the back of the plane and raised the ramp. The pounding continued mercilessly outside. We grabbed what gear we could from the crates, slung it into the back of our Humvee and released the docking clamps. The ramp came down and we floored it. The Sarg sat on the 50. cal blasting us a hole through the wall of death the whole way to the gates. We hit the main road and navigated at full speed our way through the disaster of the nearest towns and headed North for the high ground of the Black mountains.
We drove all night and finally stopped out of fuel in the small hours of the morning in a forest clearing. We took stock our equipment and supplies, and tried to tune into the military frequencies on the radio. Amongst the static we picked up some local chatter and checking our own frequencies hearing our other units who deployed further south cry out for help or their calls to evacuate. Then we found it a central signal coming from green mountain, the last call for evacuation and the emplacement of the quarantine, We were stuck . We were stuck in the most backwater hellhole on earth, in a foreign country surrounded by an infestation of shambling relentless corpses with only the destruction of every living creature on this planet as their soul purpose.