User:Warren Peece

File:Special Portrait.jpg Character Name: Warren Peece Creation Date: 2011-01-07 10:54:43 Group: The Fortress Character Class: Military Character Level: 2 Height: 6'3" Weight: 230lbs Age: 27 Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Brown Ethnicity: Italian Blood Type: O Negative Description: A bodyguard for a 18 year old self made billionaire brat. Proudly killed him barehanded when he turned. Wearing: a custom made Giorgio Armani black suit, a pair of custom Berluti shoes, a pair of platinum and diamond encrusted brass knuckles. History: Was a First Lieutenant, in the, 75th U.S. Army Rangers Battalion. Became a mercenary for hire, following in the footsteps of a good friend named, T. Sean Collins, when a self made billionaire offered him a six figure salary to be a personal body guard. Warren was treated to the finest clothing, weaponry, and all the other perks you get for protecting the filthy rich. The billionaire came to Malton to network with a few potential clients on new products, when the outbreak struck. Warren, now finds himself caught in a city he can't escape, surrounded by the living dead, hoping to survive and taking things one day at a time. Where were you when it all began: 3rd July 2005 Journal The Backstory The first time I died, I was caught by surprise, many of us were. Not anymore, but, it wasn't the last time I died, and probably won't be the last. I devoted my life to the U.S. Army Rangers. It was the only thing I was ever good at. No real ties to civilian life being a orphan, I grew up going from home, to home, to orphanage, to the streets. It was a self defense thing I guess. The lack of ties and the rage helped me excell and quickly rise in the ranks. The 75th U.S. Army Ranger Battalion, was my family, my life. I bled for them, I sweated for them, I cried for them. Well that was until Panama, and if I ever see that son of a bitch ... When I left a friend I could call the closest thing to a actual brother; T. Sean Collins, told me about being a gun for hire. I laughed, then I almost pissed myself when he told me about the paychecks and I was instantly hooked. Shoot first, ask no questions and get paid more then I made in five years as a Captain. Two years later I was introduced to Larry Page, at a Military fund raiser he was some billionaire kid who created this 'puter search engine or something. As it's said in "The Godfather", he made me a offer I couldn't refuse. Along with a absurd amount of money, I got all the perks of being a glorified baby sitter. My suit with all the trimmings cost more then a Bentley, and a added bonus on my first year with him was a joke gift to remind me of my roots and how far I had come. A pair of platnium "brass knuckles" with a total of twenty karrots on each in diamonds. I couldn't believe it, he simply said thank you to me and said it's only a tenth of what he figured I was worth. I guess was a equal trade, after saving his life from that loon, who said the idea was stolen. I still loathed the brat, but, I loved the lifestyle and of course the money. Less then a year later we came to Malton, so he can talk geek with some new investors who wanted special softwear for their company Necrotech. For some reason while in his meeting, he left suddenly really upset, and yelling to the envestors "NEVER!" and that they were "SICK FUCKS". I never got a chance to ask him what that was about. He was livid, and said we were leaving, and for me to arrange a flight out of the city right away. The Outbreak I have no clue where it began, all I do know is while at airport I mistakened them for rioters. That was until they got closer, and by then it was too late. Larry was missing his left leg while defending himself from several of them. I made a bathroom into a makeshift panic room. Blocking the doorway with a cautionary wet floor sign wedged under the door. The sound of screams were heard outside, along with occassional gunfire. It was complete bedlam. Inside the room was no better. Bossman was bleeding like a pig, it wouldn't clot. I knew he was dead, and their was nothing I could do. He was crying like a little girl. I was about to say die with some manhood already, but, the janator cleaning the restroom when we entered, started freaking and trying to get out even though we all heard the pounding on the door. After a few minutes of trying to be polite about it, I gave him a gut shot. After his legs worked, and he regained his breath, he calmed down. We were there for hours, then it suddenly happened. Short, quick gasps for air, then death. Larry was dead, and of course mister cool and collective lost it again. I told him to politely shut the fuck up and relax or I would kill him myself. I sat back to the door, looking at Larry, thinking to myself, I laughed, as the adrenaline faded I realized his fate would be my own. My shirt was wet and cold along my forearm. This is how it ends for me, in a damned bathroom. I don't remember doing it, but, Mister cool and collected began to scream, I looked over at him, to realize I snapped his neck without a thought or care in the world. I then saw why he was screaming. My mind wouldn't let the visage sink in. Larry legless crawling towards me dead as can be. Quickly I stood, accidentally pulling the door jam with me. One foot on the face of my now undying employer and another blocking the door, I searched for a way to defend myself. I rolled in laughter at the irony, as numerious hits from diamond covered platnium knuckles shattered his skull. My balance was off, I was sloppy, the door, pushed open from the weight of those trying to enter, I turned to see teeth bearing down, as hands grabbed for me. I don't know how long it's been, or even how I'm alive again, but, I am and I'm not alone. Now to get out of here. A Survivors Life In Malton 2011-01-07 The first thing I heard was distant moaning, and as my vision came back, I could make out blurry shadows. "Welcome back to hell on earth". someone said. I asked where was that exactly. Tollyton, Malton. We sat for a bit, and gave me a rundown on had happened, where to go, freerunning through the city, and what items were important to keep. it still makes no sense to me, but then again, I was a zombie for almost 6 years ... 2011-01-15 I've been healing the injured, and sick so much I can make a fairly good diagnosis of what their problem is. I still can't find a way out yet, and I'm in over my head. Maybe it's time I look for groups of survivors to be part of. Kind of like back in the service, fight for the common goal, and knowing that someone got my back, as I will get theres. Let the hunt begin. 2011-01-16 As I drifted off to sleep, I can hear someone talking about a survivor group called Fortress. Made a mental note to seek them out, and the next day, I ran across a flyer, advertising them. A few hours later, I was excepted. I ship off for Boot Camp tomorrow, I can only imagine the differences from Military to this one. Can't wait this is gonna be interesting. LEFT BC FOR REAL LIFE ISSUES 2011-04-18 Returned to Boot Camp. Back to Top

Military Skills Basic Firearms Training Pistol Training Advanced Pistol Training Shotgun Training Advanced Shotgun Training Hand-to-Hand Combat Knife Combat Axe Proficiency Free Running Scout Safehouse Scientific Skills NecroTech Employment Lab Experience NecroNet Access First Aid Surgery Diagnosis Miscellaneous Skills Shopping Bargain Hunting Body Building Tagging Construction Radio Operation Zombie Hunter Skills Headshot Zombie Skills Scent Fear Scent Blood Scent Trail Scent Death Digestion Infectious Bite Vigour Mortis Neck Lurch Death Grip Rend Flesh Tangling Grasp Feeding Drag Memories of Life Death Rattle Feeding Groan Bellow Ransack Flailing Gesture Lurching Gait Ankle Grab Brain Rot Flesh Rot