The Headbangers of Malton

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Abbreviation: H.o.M.
Group Numbers: 26
Leadership: Stickman
Goals: Drink. Fight. Rock.
Recruitment Policy: Accepting Applications
Contact: Dead City Radio


In light of the fact that there are very few zombies right now, the Headbangers of Malton has now been split into 2 factions: the Headbangers and the Deadbangers. The Deadbangers will still wear the Headbangers of Malton group tags, but they will work in a separate area of the map from human H.o.M. members and will behave according to traditional zombie principles: eat the living, smash their homes, hear the lamentation of the women. Because both factions have no interaction, it is possible to have two characters under the H.o.M. banner.

Join Stickman in the Fight Against Suckitude

Bringing Metal to Malton. That is the mission Stickman has undertaken. That means more than just shredding on Gwenyth for the local populace. It's an attitude, a way of life. It's getting drunk, flipping off the cops, and mooning the zeds. It's life in a mosh pit. Help rid Malton of uncool. Join the Headbangers of Malton today.

The Way of the Headbanger

So what is H.o.M. all about?

That depends on whether you are a Headbanger or a Deadbanger. That's right, H.o.M. now has a zombie faction. The human Headbanger is there to help the human cause, but we do it in our own way. While H.o.M. may be loud and obnoxious to some, we try to get along with our fellow man. Does that mean we always follow the rules? Hell no. We don't go out looking for a fight, but we don't back down from one either. If someone PK's you, we PK them right back. If someone gets in your face, smash a brick into theirs.

Unlike the human Headbanger, a zombie Deadbanger's goal is to wreck stuff. Eat humans, ransack buildings, scream like a maniac, and always remember to support metal. Although both factions wear the same group tags and they love glorious Metal, they have very different agendas. But whether you play as a human or a zombie, one thing remains the same:

H.o.M. is about going where you want to go and kicking a lot of ass. Much like getting drunk and going to math class, H.o.M. staggers from place to place to hang out and wreck shit.

H.o.M. is more interested in bringing Metal back to the forlorn masses than getting involved in the politics of Malton. We move into a suburb, invade the malls and pubs, kick some ass, and make a lot of noise.

Finally, H.o.M. isn't bound by strict pro-human rules. Anyone who gets in our way is fair game. If a known killer or vandal walks into our turf, we waste his ass, no apologies. The only rule is that we don't start shit, we finish it.


Are You Eligible?

Anyone can join. Doesn't matter what your skills are, as long as you adopt the Headbanger way of life. For recruiting purposes, tag this everywhere: Headbangers of Malton:

Home Turf

The Headbangers of Malton (Human Faction) have settled into Gulsonside. We will mosh the shit outta any zed that brings it to our mall.

The HoM zombie faction, the Deadbangers, have decided to make Santlerville their home. The deadbangers are off touring South Blythville with The Lebende Tote, but we'll be back to Santlerville soon enough.

Radio Frequency 28.97

Dead City Radio is the only station in Malton that plays all metal - all the time. Okay, well not all the time, just whenever a member is sober enough to flip the tape. Dead City Radio gives metalheads across Malton a forum in which they can hold serious and poignant discussions on controversial issues such as "Headbutting in the Mosh Pit", "Smell my Finger", "The Danger of Blue Angels", and "Building a Better Beer Funnel". Dead City Radio is officially on the air, and the people will Rock.

Broadcasts are scheduled in advance and performed live. Tune in to the first broadcast "Live at Blesley Mall" Thursday April 5 at 22:00 EST!!!

Transcripts of past shows can be found here


Past Campaigns

Suprisingly effective for a small group, the Headbangers of Malton have worked closely with living and dead allies alike. Our past campaigns are as follows:

HoM Headbangers:

Whittenside: The Headbangers worked closely with the BMC to help secure the suburb. PK-ers and zombies alike fell beneath the many black boots of our metal militia.

Gulsonside: For many weeks HoM has fought to make Gulsonside a safe place to mosh. Now, having achieved total victory alongside our allies, we will commence in the paartaay. I myself have placed my amp in the window and I will continue to shred with my amp turned to 11.

HoM Deadbangers:

Vinetown: The Deadbangers' first mission. We split open the easiest targets so we could split open the easiest heads. Using a successful parachute tactic we took the hapless survivors in Mitchem Mall unawares. Casualties were minimal but laughs were abundant as the Deadsbangers, clad in straitjackets, shouted the virtues of metal and generally just mafde a big, nonsensical ruckus with their last infected APs, then stood up as zombies and attacked the shocked and disoriented survivors. I still have my straitjacket and I intend to keep it.

Santlerville: For many weeks the Deadbangers harassed the lesser resource buildings. LUE came and went, but the Deadbangers just had too much fun at St Columbanus's Hospital. Day after day the Deadbangers would throw the doors open and visit the sick kids of the hospital, granting them the greatest gift of all: a one way ticket to our digestive tracts. Now the Deadbangers are calling Santlerville home. We will move from place to place, but we will always come back to Santlerville.

Current Campaigns

HoM Headbangers:

Having just cleaned up Gulsonside, the Headbangers are looking for a new fight. We may go to Vinetown or maybe Scarletwood.

HoM Deadbangers:

Currently in South Blythville with the Lebende Tote.

The Story of Stickman

It was 1997 when Stickman was touring Europe with Sepultura and shredding his way into the hearts and minds of millions and millions of fans. Then one night his tour bus crashed just outside of Malton killing the driver and his tour manager on impact. The last thing he saw was his drummer dragging himself from the wreckage.

It's the year 2007. 10 years have passed. Stickman's eyes flutter open to the sight of faint blinking lights and monitors in every direction he looks. The room is dimly illuminated and everything is cast in a pale blue light making the tubes sticking out of his arms and legs look like a part of his body.

He rips himself free of the web of intravenous lines and staggers to his feet. Strangely, he finds he can walk without much difficulty. Searching the nearest closet he finds his clothes, typical headbanger fare; polished army boots, tight black jeans, a spiked wristband, and a leather jacket thrown over a wife-beater. But none of this matters, he'd dress in rags if it would bring back his precious Gwenyth. Then in the corner of the closet under a heap of scrubs he sees a gleam of metal. Could it be? Frantically he claws his way through the discarded clothing and there, in all of her deep lacquered beauty, he finds her: Gwenyth, his Les Paul Custom.

With Gwenyth safely strapped to his back he pats the pockets on his coat, pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights up. Taking one last look around the strange room he exhales a deep blue puff. A smoke ring drifts lazily toward the ceiling where it dissolves along a painted logo. Necrotech? What is this place? He turns and walks up a darkened stairwell. In the dark it seems the stairs never end. Finally he sees a faint beam of light seeping through the crack of a doorway. He turns the handle but the door won't give. Groping blindly, he finds a bolt and draws it back. The door swings open.

It's nighttime. He looks at the rubble and decay of the streets in front of him. What happened here? The unmistakable report of gunfire can be heard in the distance, mingled with screams of terror. A shuffling scrape causes him to turn. In the alley, a shadow emerges into the light of a streetlamp. The grotesquely decomposed face almost looks like it's grinning, it's lips are drawn so far back.

Stickman turns and runs. He sees a light in a building up ahead. Not waiting for an invitation he jumps through a window in a spray of splintered wood and broken glass. A dozen pistols turn to greet him.

"Who the fuck are you?" says a man who looks like he's had his insides sucked out and replaced with ashes. There are a fifteen others in the room, not a friendly face in sight. The whole room looks like it could use some sleep.

"I'm a musician."

"Musician, huh?" he lowers his gun. "Good, we're getting pretty tired of listening to the same old crap."

"What do mean?"

"You been living under a rock, son? In all of Malton there's only one CD left, 'Get Rich Or Die Tryin' by 50-Cent. They broadcast it morning, noon, and night."


At that moment Stickman knew why he was there. He knew his purpose. To Give the Metal Back to the People. He wanders the streets now showing people that their salvation lies in Heavy Metal and that death isn't so scary when you flip it the bird.

And that is how Stickman has just now come to be in Malton. The Real Stickman, for there are pretenders, is the embodiment of Metal. I drink, I fight, I barf, but more than anything I rock your world.

I am Stickman! And you wish you were half as awesome as I am.


The Headbangers of Malton Support:

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