Auton's Full Game

A Day in the life of Shaun and Rambo
Well just downloaded Al's report on the ghastly time Shaun and Rambo had, can't do better than post it in full here on the site...enjoy...... PS you can see them in the picture crossing the road, the golfer and the barechested pistolero.....just ahead of the two cops. Having finished running an errand in the outskirts of Racoon city Rambo and Shaun were making their way to their favourite eating establishment McDongalls. It was a quiet night and they were about half way there when a smartly dressed man came sprinting up to them screaming: “the end of the world is upon us brothers. The dead have risen and come to feast upon the living. Run for your lives I tell you! Run!!” Rambo who was a hugely muscled brute merely batted the man aside. He was hungry and the ranting of this fool would not stop him from eating. The unlikely pair was nearly there when all hell broke loose as the walking dead shambled into view between them and McDongalls. Rambo looked to Shaun. Shaun was an English man with passion golf and the odd pint, who is obviously the brains of the outfit, decided the best thing to do was to get tooled up and find a means of escape. It was at that moment he remembered the army helicopter at the barracks. All they would need to do was find the pilot or the keys to the army helicopter and 'get the hell out of dodge.' The pilot was famed for living it up, so they decided to go looking for him in the city. Shaun who new all the best equipment stashes led the way with his ever faithful companion in tow. The first crate was easily found and produced an axe for Rambo and a frying pan for Shaun. Frying pan in had Shaun’s first thought was of a ‘full English’. It would have to do as an improvised weapon until something better turned up. However it just wasn’t the same as having a gun in your hands and a heck load of ammo to boot. With the pressing need to find some real weapons and the smell of rotting flesh and decay on the wind our dynamic duo set out for the next stash located at the base of the city welcome sign on the main drag into Racoon city. Although Shaun and Rambo appeared to take little notice of the reporter and cameraman behind them, they decided to try and look heroic and competent. In other words just playing up to the camera. That sort of thing never did anyone any harm in this day and age. It was just as Shaun had hoped; the next case gave them exactly what they wanted, a sniper rifle and a bolt-action rifle. The frying pan was tossed over Shaun’s shoulder in favour of the rifle. Rambo being Rambo would rather beat someone with a heavy object than shoot him or her from afar. Satisfied with their tools our fun loving heroes set off once again in search of the pilot or the keys. As their journey continued the situation began to rapidly descend down hill as they could now see more the horrors that were shambling towards them. A veritable tide of walking dead. Shaun was saddened to see his favourite waitress Clementine had fallen and was now amongst the ranks of the zombies. To add to their misery Rambo and Shaun spotted a pair of cops between them and the next stash. Not wishing to draw attention to themselves they tried to look nondescript as they walked across the street towards the crate. Thankfully the cops were more than preoccupied with the oncoming swarm of zombies, they ignored the psycho with the axe and carried on erecting a barricade. The sight of the next crate made our heroes pause. The truck behind the crate was on fire and is cargo was scattered all around. The barrels were leaking a strange coloured fluid and writhing near each drum were several large bloated maggots that seemed to be feeding from the leaking containers. The crate itself held nothing of interest so it was time to move on. Leaving the cops to their fate Rambo and Shaun headed south deeper into the city in search of their quarry. A couple of blocks down they came across a pair of NBC workers. One of them was wielding a petrol lawnmower tearing all the zombies around him into bloody chunks. The other was engaged in deadly hand-to-hand combat armed with a Black and Decker, but the shear number of zombies appeared to wearing him down. The boot of Dave’s shiny red cadillac (the next stash) held nothing of use either. That selfish git must have taken off with all the good stuff. Knowing that this was the last stash that they knew of Shaun drew his combat knife and gouged the paintwork of the caddy and ruined the ornate flame job that cost Dave hundreds of dollars to have done. Just as they thought things would not get any better they heard a shout from the north. An office worker shouted with relief as he found the keys to the helicopter. He obviously had the same escape plan. The worker then started to make the dangerous journey north. Shaun and Rambo seeing an opportunity to escape ran off in the same direction. Shortly after things took a turn for the worse. Shaun was now separated from Rambo and surrounded by zombies. Fighting hard he could he was unable to free himself. Rambo on the other hand charged a zombie raising his axe swinging for the things head and missed. The sounds of combat erupted from all around as the living battled with the dead. And for the moment the living were holding the zombies at bay. Both Rambo and Shaun killed a zombie each. Rambo now free from combat moved north past the embattled police following the worker with the keys. Shaun on the other hand is still surrounded and decided that enough is enough and pulled a 9 Iron from his golf bag and made ready singing a little song to himself (…Zombies to the left of me, zombie the right and here I am, stick in the middle with you…Dum chicka darda da dum…). In the next few nail biting moments Rambo killed two more as do the cops and the mad dash for the helicopter continued almost unhindered. Further back down the street Shaun fought like a ‘warrior of old’ slaying three zombies in a single swing of the 9 Iron. More zombies piled in attacking low and two zombies manage to injure Shaun to the extent that running was now no longer an option as both his legs are torn and bloody. The desperate group of civilians continued north. Rambo now more concerned with getting to the helicopter in one piece avoids as many fights as possible. All the time hoping that he did not just see a 14-foot tall monster with a mini gun. A few blocks south Shaun despite all the wounds he has sustained is now in the zone, killing zombies with nearly every swing of the golf club. He managed to look around to see that all the living near him were now dead or soon to be. All that could be heard within the city was the muffled screams of the dying and the groaning of the walking dead. Shaun was determined survive and survive he did as the last of the zombies fighting him fell with a dull thud. The helicopter was too far away and trying to get to it would be nothing short of suicide. So club in hand Shaun made his way further into the city hoping to find a quiet pub (not the Winchester? ed.) as he was gagging for a pint. He also needed place to recover and ride out this terrible storm of the dead. For Rambo the end was in sight. The worker and two kids jumped over a barricade landed straight in front of the zombiefied pilot. The pilot flailed limply and Rambo saw a small boy with a gurt great plank of wood beat the zombie pilot to hell and back before climbing into the helicopter, as the others climbed did the same. Rambo, a female news reporter and a male medic sprinted for the barricade in front of the helicopter. The helicopters engine leapt into life and the huge blades began to turn. The barricade was a minor hurdle that was easily cleared and the six survivors shut the door and prepared to get the hell out of this place. All the flight simulations that the worker had enjoyed on his PS2 stood him in good stead as the helicopter took off leaving the swarm of walking dead milling around as lunch evaded them. Banking it gently the worker flew over the city streets before heading out into the countryside and to safety. To be continued…

tastey! Thanks for sharing!

Captain General's game report (cheers mate!) RESIDENT EVIL THE APOCALYPSE A blockbuster wargames production 14th June 2007

And in the DEATH as the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare, The shutters lifted an inch in tenement buildings high on Vulture’s hill, And red mutant eyes gazed down on “Racoon City”, Moaning and shuffling they came, No longer old or young, No mind but of one intent….. The year of the living dead! With apologies to David Bowie. Thus spake the AUTON, and lo, it came to pass; That the game of nightmares was made real, Fashioned has he the ground and the roads, With praise to the great prophet MATAKISHI has he raised the buildings, Erected bar, garage and alleyway, And into this little earth he has summoned eight brave souls, They must con-*test*-('") his foul minions The hideous ARCHON and the sly CAPTAINGENERAL. To seek, to find, to escape, For there can be no victory… The UNDEAD always win …somehow….. The players for this game took two characters each. As the prophet Noah foresaw, they came in two by two.. The Cops, the Soldiers, the NBC team, the News-team, the Golfers, the Kids, the Apprentices (with apologies to Sir Alan Sugar) and the Doctor and his nurse! The game started at a rush with groups of players frantically ransacking the first few encounter crates. Getting lucky they were soon tooled up with rifles and pistols and the female apprentice even had a rocket launcher! Then the evil tide of undead burst upon them. Woeful dice rolling meant that the shooters among them emptied their magazines all too soon; but to howls of delight from the players Doctor Jones found that the Lawnmower proved a potent if messy weapon, ‘mowing down ‘ several zombies until the mechanism clogged! Meanwhile the brave SWAT soldiers (played by a famous wargamer) had decided to hide in the cockpit of the helicopter and await the arrival of any survivors with the ignition key, but not before they had erected a makeshift barricade in front of the copter. So it was that everyone raised a cheer when an encounter revealed a zombie wildcard which allows the placing of one zombie ANYWHERE on the board! Well it could only be one place…. in the cockpit behind the cowering squaddies! Frantically they scrambled away from the clawing hands of the undead pilot, only to run into a hoard of undead army types, they were soon surrounded, and one soldier got a nasty bite, his eyes rolled back into his head, and the virus claimed another victim. Miraculously his partner punched her way free from the 20 or so Z’s and ran for the plantation in a vain effort to escape and find a weapon of some sort, with each turn of pursuit more wounds slowed her down until at the very end of the game with her dying eyes she saw the helicopter lifting off! Sir Alan Sugar would have been proud of his two finalists as they battered zombies aside with their briefcases, and Simon found the precious ignition key just outside McDongalls. At that point the hideous genetically engineered killing machine NEMESIS appeared and started lumbering towards them, luckily for the players his ranged bio-weapon proved horribly inaccurate only serving to mow down a few zombies! As the players scattered and tried to make their way out of town to the helicopter, Simon pulled out his pistol and standing still; emptied an entire clip into the brute, felling him with the final shot. The desperate survivors were filled with renewed hope and grouping together they fought their way through the remaining scattered zombies to the helicopter where years of misspent youth on the flight sim games came into their own, and despite the last shambling efforts of the undead the helicopter rose up and away into the air and safety……………………………..THE END?

WOW! :shock: Excellent stuff, sounds like it was really frantic with a lot going on, just like a Zombie game should be! :D Was the game "Games Master" lead for the Zombie actions or was it "game generated"? Regards PM

The zombies were controlled by two other players, Captain General & Archon. Just zombies alone there were nearly 70 on the table! That left me free to umpire the game for all the players.

Frantic? yes i guess thats the hallmark of these games, Here is the diary posted by Dr Bob....enjoy! Here it is – 8) What a god’am awful day. I mean working for Umbrella means you see some odd stuff, and being part of the NBC clean-up crew means you see the worst, acid spills, chemical fires, the occasional rat infestation, but this … oh man. So we’re sent out to the ass-end of the city for a ‘regular clean-up’. “Just some worms” said the shift manager, “just like last month. nothing special”. So out we go, me and Deke, with the minimal load. Then the truck breaks down, and no one answers the radio. So we decide to hoof it. We can leave all the kit in the truck. I mean, that’s no problem right? Nothing but some worms. Then we see the zombies; lurching around like a Sunday morning after the night before. Well Deke thought that was great. “Think of the overtime he says”. Never was the smar-*test*-('"). Anyway we catch up with a bunch of civvies – couple of cops, some guy carrying his golf clubs, all heading for a chopper. Well, that seemed like a good idea. Problem was no-one’s got keys. So off everyone goes, searching the dumpsters and mailboxes … yeah, I know, seems dumb in the cold light o’ day but at the time, what with all the zees around, well, no one was thinking straight. Deke and I, we head off for this house three or four blocks over. Deke suggests going back to the truck, picking up some of the kit – the flamethrowers and the like. Only problem was the walking dead walked faster than we thought. We turn a corner and there they were. Well, Deke and I grabbed whatever we could. First thing Deke finds is a power drill. I mean, Jeeze, Dumb or what? I asked him, sarcastic like, where he was going to get an extension cord long enough to run it. Deke said not to worry, it was cordless … like I said, not the brigh-*test*-('"). Next building over we have some luck. Deke finds a bat. Well, I’m still scrabbling round but they’re close now so I just grab whatever comes to hand – a lawn mower … yeah, I know, don’t say it. I’d have given anything for a shotgun, a pistol, a rocket launcher, but hey, you gotta go with what you got. Typically; from the sounds coming from the other blocks, some of the civvies got the good kit. Figures. So there we are, Deke and me, kitted out in full NBC suits squaring up against the living dead with nothing but some home improvement kit. Talk about B-movie pulp! When they reached us it was bad – I cold smell ‘em even through the mask. Gross. Anyway I get a bit of a run up and gun the engine on the mower. Hit the first one with a splat. What d’you know, worked quite well. Bits of the undead everywhere. The smell got worse. And that was it from then until dusk, we tried to work our way back to the others and the chopper. Turns out Deke was handy with the bat. Seems he tried out for the major leagues once. Well, he hit plenty of Homers, probably a couple of Neds, Rods and Marys too. Didn’t help him in the end, though. We got within sight of the cops when it happened. I was bleeding; kept having to stop to clean the bits out of the mower to keep it going (you know this sounds dumber every time I say it). Deke was laying about him with a will, then there was a shout, and when I turned ‘round he was gone. Well, not gone as such, he was still stood there, but there was a vacant look on his face, his eyes glassy and all. Mind you, dumb as he was I didn’t twig until he tried to bite me. Had to hit him with the mower. Shame, I kinda liked Deke. Well it’s dark now, I saw the chopper slip over head as I bedded down under a tire wall for the night. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a way out in the morning. Or perhaps the company will send some one out. Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen. Still dawn’s another day, like they say … Hang on. What’s that noise? Oh sh…. :twisted:

The One Who Got Away
Another Report from Thursdays game - What a night! The special agent sat down at the desk once more. The room pitch black apart from a bright light bulb hanging over the interview table. “So Mr Smith, now that you know that we aren’t interested in suing you to cover the costs of the damaged Blackhawk, can you please take me through your story one more time”. Smith, his eyes still blurred from lack of sleep and of shear terror replied. “Certainly Mr…………, what did you say your name was again”? “I didn’t” retorted the agent. “Oh right” continued Smith. “Well, it started like any other day; I finished at the office, tided my desk and locked my things in the desk draw, its company policy you know. Anyhow, I left the building and took the South Central Bus to my stop, come to think of it the driver did smell a bit, and looked terrible, but I just thought he was a Mexican or something. I started out to walk home from my stop when I met up with the woman who lives across the street from me, we exchanged pleasantries as we walked closer to the National Guard base, I noticed that the helicopter was parked insider the perimeter but couldn’t see the guards at the gate that were usually there, odd, I thought. It was then I noticed the shambling figures in the park across the road, just behind McDongels; it must the National Guard doing there weekend training I said sarcastically to the woman beside me. Then we noticed other shambling, vacant looking people out the back of McDongels, and they weren’t the staff. I’m sure one of them said Brrrrraiiiiiiinnnnnssss, and shuffled towards us, followed by loads more. We happed to notice an Army crate just under the Racoon City welcome sign, so we ran over to it, pulled the lid off and found a rocket launcher and a fire extinguisher. Somehow, I got the fire extinguisher, but it was better than nothing. We look around and saw another crate about a block towards the city, it looked safe so we made our way towards it, but found nothing in it. We had passed a nurse and a doctor on the way, both looked scared and said that there were Zombies coming out of the city. There was another crate another block over, next to a burning truck with yellow drums on it. There seems to a news crew and 2 cops there also, so we headed over to them, just at the same time as a bunch of zombies arrived from 5th street. I managed to duck around one to get to the crate, inside I found some keys, the fob said SH-60 on it, which I reckoned was the helicopter. I shouted to the others around me; the 2 cops (not Racoon Cities finest), who had built a barricade in the street, and the news crew that I’d got a ride out of here and then headed over to the cops. Trouble is that we now had zombies in between us and the helicopter. The cops were advancing while they blasted away with shotguns and pistols, but there were just too many zombies. I saw a way through with just one zombie blocking my way I opened up with the fire extinguisher which seemed to freeze the zombie in place. We’d been joined by a few more survivors by this point and together we made a run for it. Fighting our way through hordes of zombies, I looked back long enough to see the cops fall behind (the fat one screaming something about blueberry doughnuts) and get swamped by the creatures. The rest of us ran for it towards the National Guard base. Funny thing was that there was a trail of zombies moving away from the base and into the parkland, they must have been after some poor soul, as only a few of them noticed us running for our lives. With the sound of gunfire still behind me (at least one of the cops was still alive) we fought our way through to the gates of the base, there were six of us by now; me, the doctor, the news crew and two kids that had come from nowhere. Someone had built a barricade around the helicopter, which was odd, but with the zombies still shambling after us, we climbed over. Then, oh great, there was another one in the helicopter, but not for long, the kids went wild knocking hell out of it like it was a piñata donkey. I got into the cockpit and started the engines, waited for the others to get in and then took off. That’s it!” The agent looked at Smith thoughtfully. “That’s the God’s truth?” he said finally. “The Gods honest truth” Smith replied. “Well you know this can’t get out to the rest of the world” the agent said nonchalantly, putting on a pair of dark sunglasses. Smith was stunned “What? We gotta warn everyone about those, those things!” “Oh don’t worry, the Government knows all about them and Racoon City is being purged by top people right now” said the Agent, “top people”. Smith felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden, maybe those conspiracy nuts were right? Just then he noticed that his interviewer had an object in his hand. “What’s that?” “Oh nothing Mr Smith” the Agent said menacingly. “Now we did not have this conversation.” Smith’s sense of self-preservation kicked in “Oh I won’t say a word, do you want me to sign the Secrets Act?” Raising the device the Agent replied “That won’t be necessary Mr Smith” The flash blinded Smith for an instance and then, everything became confused. Where was he, what was he doing here? “Who are you”? He asked the man in front of him.

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