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©
Immersion Studios, All Rights ReservedWritten and Designed by: Oliver R. Shead Cover Art (and interiors): Andy Walsh Other Artists: Joshua Meehan, Alexander
Chelyshev, Bram “Boco” Sels
Playtesters and Assistant Game Designers:
Stuart Holbrook, Daniel Milne, Jet Liberson, Rein Drafall
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W
elcome to this sample copy of our upcoming setting “Infected!” a nightmarish vision of the zombie apocalypse, designed as a Pen and Paper Role Playing Game. This is a game suited for new and experienced gamers alike.Infected! is the first RPG setting for Immersion RPG, a totally universal, classless and limitless RPG system
which has been a passion project of myself and my dedicated playtesters and designers for some four years now (has it really been that long?). It grew out of a desire to have more flexibility in the game without sacrificing on detail - and to have a high level of realism.
After quite a lot of trial, error, playtesting, frustration and then moments of enlightenment, my aims have now been achieved in the Immersion RPG system - and so it is with some real pleasure that I can now present to you a taste of what is to come. This little booklet not only has a small part of the story and details of the world of Infected!, but it also serves as a showcase for the quality of the work that will be in the final book. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it. It has been a heck of a lot of fun to create.
There is a Kickstarter coming soon, planned for early 2015, and it is my hope that through that the full
Infected! book will be released as a full-colour, hardcover book with premium quality art by the end of the
year. And of course, there will be an e-book available too!
If you would like to see more of our projects, check out the Immersion Studios website here: http:// immersion-rpg.com
Any feedback, discussion, compliments, or whatever you’d like to say, can be posted on our facebook or G+ pages. I always love to hear from those who have read the materials.
- Oliver R. Shead
4
WHAT CAN I SAY?
The world fell apart. And when I say ‘fell apart,’ I mean it totally destroyed itself. I mean
you wouldn’t recognise it anymore. I mean, in the last few months, most of humanity has
been wiped off the map. We’ve been stamped out like cockroaches.
Maybe it was fate. Those religious fanatics say it was – say it was God’s punishment for all
our evil. Others say it was karma, or the product of evolution.
I don’t know why it happened. I don’t care anymore.
*
It started with a bug. A super bug, they were calling it. I’m not sure where it came from,
but all of a sudden it was in Mexico, China and Brazil. Within a week a hundred countries
had cases.
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They had extreme, flu like symptoms. Lots of coughing. Lots of gunk coming out of the
nose, the mouth – even the eyes.
After a couple of days they also broke out in these weeping red sores all over their bodies.
And they’d scratch them ‘til their fingernails were red with the blood.
Yeah, I know it makes you itchy just thinking about it. Me too. But don’t scratch. It makes
people nervous. Seriously. Stop it. Or I’ll shoot you. Yes, I’m serious.
Anyway, people didn’t know it yet, but those people with that weird flu were in the first
stages of the Infection. And it was really contagious.
Three days after Mexico got it, even with border security tightened up, we had cases
sprouting up all over the West Coast.
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The worst part of it was that most people who had it thought they just had a bad cold.
Some of them still went to work, some of them went to cafes, schools – you get the idea.
Everywhere they went, they spread that bug. They killed everyone they came into contact with.
People were still thinking it was just some bad swine flu or something. Some media
hysteria, you know? Life was carrying on like normal.
But then those in the later stages started to collapse. They’d just go into convulsions of
coughing, with all that white shit coming out their eyes, mouth and noses. They’d just
suddenly be on the ground, doubled over, eyes bulging as they tried to breathe. And then they
shuddered and stopped.
But they weren’t dead. Not yet. Instead, they went into deep, deep comas. One that no
one expected them to come out of. The hospitals found themselves suddenly
overwhelmed with emergency cases, and flooded with terrified people in
the early stages.
There was fear in the air. You could taste it. The supermarkets were filled
with people desperate to stock up, and in some places there were
brawls over canned food.
The Police had their hands full. There were lootings, car burnings,
riots. And through it all, feeding the hysteria, the infection continued
apace. By day seven I think there were something like fifty million cases.
They were just everywhere. You couldn’t go down the street without
someone coughing, or without seeing caution tape over doors. They were
still trying to effect a quarantine, though so many people were terrified
of being diagnosed with it, or just refused to believe that they had it,
that they never went to the hospital. And that’s just it, too. You get a
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bit of a sniffle – you don’t want to start thinking you’ve got the damned infection. And then,
a few hours later, it’s all you can do to breathe you’re coughing so hard. And now no one wants
to come near you to take you to a hospital – or if they do, you’ll infect them for sure. And if
you call an ambulance, chances are they won’t be there for days, there’s so many cases popping
up, not to mention the number of injuries now popping up.
And so you stay at home. But if you do that, chances are you’ll need to go out
sometime to get some food at least – and when you do, you
infect everyone you come into contact with.
By now pretty much everyone’s wearing
masks if they’re going out. But
in some of the poorer areas,
people are jammed in much
tighter and when someone
starts coughing you can’t just kick
them out. And so, on and on,
the infection spreads.
And that’s when they
started to wake up.
In fact, it was only about
forty percent. The rest died
horrible, gasping deaths,
choked on their own
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But that forty percent…
No, I’m fine…just got something…something stuck in my throat…
What was I saying? Oh, yeah.
They were different. I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter anymore.
The Infected weren’t really human anymore. They weren’t even like
animals. No animal acts like that…
They don’t feel. They don’t think. They just hunger.
And when they woke up, they were really, really hungry.
Do you understand what that means? It means your mother or your
brother or your wife waking up with their eyes so bloodshot they looked
entirely red. The infection has burnt the flesh from their bones, and they’re
almost as thin as a corpse, the skin stretched tight over their skulls. For a
moment you feel elated – they survived! They’ve come back to you. Perhaps you don’t
notice the lack of recognition in their eyes. You’re just so pleased they’re alive.
Then they attack you. Frenzied. Choking, clawing, biting – seeking only to maim and kill.
There’s blood. Blood everywhere. That’s the worst part. You see, once they’ve woken up, they’re
no longer as infectious. Their breathing or sneezing on you won’t give you the infection. But
their blood and pus is still a carrier. Get any of it in your system and you might as
well have written your obituary. You’re Infected, bud.
You might be able to guess what happened next. Hysteria took hold. So many people
tried to get away from the cities that the highways became utterly blocked. Fires took
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hold in some places and raged almost out of control – after all, most of the firemen weren’t
on station anymore.
Even at that stage, though, when the country was in utter panic, there were still weirdly
normal things. I remember finding a burger joint by the side of the road. The staff were run
off their feet in there, but they were still working.
Of course, someone started coughing in there, and then it started a panic. A guy pulled a
gun and started shooting – I jumped over the counter to get at the burgers.
What’s that? Oh – yeah man, they were absolutely worth it. You wouldn’t believe how
much I miss burgers these days.
Within a day the government brought in the troops, declaring martial law. But they didn’t
know at this point who was infected and who not. The streets were filled with desperate and
terrified people. People who would do anything to survive.
They set up perimeters and safe zones – or Green Zones, as they call them. But it was
hard to tell who was infected and who wasn’t. Those who they found were sick were taken
away and quietly killed, their bodies burnt in massive incinerators. They worked at it like
exterminators, all clinical, like these people weren’t even human anymore.
But anyway, there was no way the Green Zones could cope. Not with the sheer numbers
of people with symptoms – not with the Infected appearing in greater and greater numbers,
spreading chaos, attacking the patrols and response units in more and more numbers.
When you put guys with guns in that sort of situation, shit goes out of control way fast.
I was in a crowd, trying to get into a Green Zone. There must have been fifty thousand
people in just that street, all scared shitless, begging and pleading, screaming and crying. The air
stunk of piss and filth.
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Minutes later, a wave of panic rippled through the mob as a group of Infected reached
them. It’s at times like that that people don’t give a crap if there’s a gun pointed at them or
not. They just don’t want to die. More than anything, they don’t want to die.
The crowd tried to storm the barricades, and the soldiers opened fire. The barbed wire
became choked with bodies – women, children, men, it didn’t matter. But there were so
many of them, and the pressure from behind pushed them on.
They overwhelmed the soldiers by sheer weight of numbers, trampling them, taking
their guns, the dead littering the ground – and then they were inside. The Infected came
with them, screaming and howling, covered in sores and open wounds, their shredded
clothes soaked with blood.
It was a lesson I learnt then, and one I will never forget: crowds are death.
That crowd, those tens of thousands of people, died like flies.
It didn’t happen like a movie, with society collapsing straight off and everyone dying in days.
Nah man, that’s not how these things work. For starters, there were still plenty of people
alive when it started going crazy. And these people were pretty determined survive. The
government wasn’t able to cope, though, and so people broke off into all these little desperate
groups. Some were looters or criminals just trying to take what
they could – most of them didn’t care if they killed you
along the way. Those sorts of people did some
pretty awful shit over those first few weeks
and months. Other groups were burn mobs,
out to catch anyone with the infection and
burn them – alive or dead. Some of those
were religious nuts, reading passages from the
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Good Book whilst they fried people. Then there were groups of soldiers going AWOL, out for
themselves. These guys were the most dangerous. They had guns, and usually didn’t give a shit
about anyone. If they wanted your food, they’d just shoot you for it.
Most people were just normal, like you and me, trying to survive all this insanity. Thing
was, most of those people just died. They got infected in a crowd, or they got murdered, or
eaten by an Infected.
Though the cities were collapsing, it was gradual. The Green Zones shrank slowly, under
constant pressure. They called in artillery, air strikes, used tanks - whatever. Some cities were
nuked. I hear New York copped it pretty bad in that way.
Didn’t stop the Infected though. It only slowed them down. Week by week, their
numbers grew more and more, whilst the survivors and soldiers grew less and less. Paranoia,
exhaustion and startvation splintered most organised
groups. There were no supply lines anymore. No air
drops. Nothing. They were on their own, and the
realisation made a lot of soldiers off themselves.
Can’t blame ‘em really.
And so, piece by piece, society splintered
and fell apart.
You see over there? Yeah, that
big bunch of industrial
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buildings? There’s a Government base over there. I don’t know how many there are – maybe a
couple of hundred?
No. Screw that. We’re not going over there.
Why?
Because they’d probably shoot us. Or they’d give us a gun and tell us to join them. And to
hell with that.
But you see, they’ve been there for months and months now, ever since the rest of the army
broke up. You’ve got to watch out around here, ‘cos there’s a few little groups of guys who’ve
gone AWOL – and they’re real bad news.
Look over there – you see those blocks of apartments? Yeah, the ones that are mostly rubble.
There are Infected there.
You’re kidding right? How many of
these movies did you watch? Well,
I’ll tell you something, these Infected
aren’t like that. Yeah, they’re crazy
and they’re strong, and they’ll kill
you pretty quickly. But
they’re not stupid.
Think of them
as really evil, really
smart monkeys. They
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watching and listening – and smelling for you. And when they find you, they’re likely to get
a whole bunch more of them before they attack. They might even wait until you’re asleep, if
they’re really smart.
They’re not just going to go out and charge that bunch of army guys. Others of them have,
when they got too hungry. But they’ve learnt now. They know what guns are. They know
they’ll just die. So they’re waiting. They know the army group’s got to move some time. And
when they do, the Infected will come for them.
That’s something for you to learn, and learn well. Don’t underestimate the Infected.
They’ll pick up weapons, throw things at you, even use bait to lure you on. Sometimes they
hibernate, when they get too tired from hunger, and you might walk right past them thinking
they’re dead – only to have them jump on your back.
And another thing – watch your feet. There are snares all around here.
No, the Infected didn’t set them. The Cannibals did.
What? Is that really that surprising to you? You’ve got a lot of prime meat on you man.
You’d feed a group for a week!
Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I’M going to eat you.
It’s like this pretty much everywhere. I know China’s copped it worse than we have. I mean,
think about their population density… Last I heard of Europe, it was in a shambles. Apparently
England isn’t so bad though. They closed their borders pretty quickly. Maybe they managed
to contain it? Africa’s just a basket case. Most of those places couldn’t contain a common cold,
let alone this thing. I saw some pretty horrible shit before the TV stopped working. I wonder
how many survivors there are.
South America is pretty bad, but they’ve got lots of jungle still. Lots of places to run. Still,
from what I hear of Rio de Janeiro…well let’s just say I’m glad I wasn’t there.
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Australia and New Zealand are a bit different. I know the bug got down there, but I think,
of any place, they had the best chance to contain it. That’s the place to be - an island. Some
place the Infected can never get to you.
Here, take this. Know how to use it? You’ll catch on. If you see any Infected, shoot ‘em in
the head. Just make sure you leave one bullet in the magazine. Just in case, you understand?
I’m going to survive this. No matter what it takes.
We stand a better chance together.
It Seemed Like It Was happening so fast, but actually it
took a long time for everything to fall to pieces. Day by
day things got worse.
At first it was over there, it was happening in places
outside, over there, away from you. Then it started
happening right next door, right beside you, in your
neighbour’s house - then in your own.
When it started to go real bad, it went quickly. There were
just so many people sick, so many dying. It was all the news
talked about, and soon it was all you could think about.
There were stories of huge crematoriums working overtime
to burn the dead. And even then there were bodies spilling
out of the hospitals in such numbers that they could only
pile them and cover them with a tarp.
There was still some sort of order at that point, even
though riots and lootings were starting to pop up. People
were civilised, and they thought that’s just the way things
were - civilisation just was.
When the Infected started to wake, that all changed. I mean
god-damn, they were f---ing eating people! At first these
were just stories, panicked reports on the news, things you
heard through someone who’d heard about it.
And then you heard the screams as they attacked someone
just next door.
The army came in...and that’s when you know this shit is
real. because you hear the shots. Day after day, you hear
them until you only notice the close ones. There are doors
spattered with blood and bullet holes. And you know the
people who used to live inside.
But then, worst of all, after weeks and weeks of this shit
you hear the soldiers screaming. You see their bodies. And
then you know you’re really F---ed.
T
he virus came out of nowhere. At first appearing vaguely similar to a much worse strain of the flu virus, it appeared first in China, thenrapidly spread from there to Mexico, Brazil, Europe, North America -
really, everywhere. Theories for its origins
pointed to several individuals who may have been some of the first to be exposed to
the infection. However, within hours of their exposure their symptoms made the virus airborne, as they coughed and sneezed, and this
spread the sickness on to countless others.
Within a day, upwards of two hundred people would have been carrying the virus. At
least three of these people got onto international
plane flights, and whilst they were in the air, their symptoms emerged. Airborne particles
saturated the planes, infecting hundreds more, who then went on to spread the bug yet further.
Chapter Two
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-2- Outbreak
Inside of a week, estimates place the sickness at having infected more than ten thousand people.
That was when the medical authorities from several nations first started to notice it. Because after several days, one of its most noticeable symptoms emerged, when the victims broke out in itchy, pus-leaking sores. By this time, the sneezing had stopped, and the virus was no longer airborne. However, the pus and blood from those sores was far, far more infectious. Should any of it enter a person's mouth or blood stream, they would almost certainly become infected themselves. And it could be even tiny amounts. After scratching a sore, the infected person might then touch a dollar bill and pass it on. This person would then touch the pus residue, and later put their hand in their mouth, or rub their eye – and within hours, they, too may be coming down with the sickness.
The authorities had no idea what was happening, but within two weeks the outbreak had reached the entire globe. Thousands were infected, and the rate of expansion was exponential. Health organisations across the globe scrambled to react. Still unsure of the full nature of the epidemic, the nations of the developed world immediately began strict quarantine rules in all hospitals. Hospital workers across the globe dressed in hazmat suits and instigated stringent new procedures for all those found to have this new “Super Flu.”
People were worried, the media played up to that fear, and kept updating people on the latest progress of the sickness, the number of new cases, as they soared up into the hundreds of thousands, then millions. The symptoms of those with the illness were increasingly bad, and included horrendous joint and muscle pain, nausea, vomiting and weakness. The first deaths were also reported – at first just a trickle, then a flood. The infection had now been proceeding for less than three weeks, and the World Health Organisation – WHO – was recommending severe actions be taken to get in some sort of quarantine. So far, any attempts at a complete quarantine had met with repeated outbreaks, even with hospital staff themselves. It was more virulent than anything they had ever seen.
There was a charged air on the streets.
Tens of millions were now infected. Hospitals across the globe were getting jammed with patients that they couldn’t tend to, and couldn’t cure. Thousands were dying. The infection was now seen for what it was: the worst killer since the Bubonic Plague.
People started staying inside. Businesses started closing. Here and there, looters smashed things and took what they wanted. In Africa, bloody riots were flaring into life in city after city, and there was no putting them down. In the Developed World, life was more organized – and there were more police and soldiers. But they didn’t need to use them – yet. The infection had claimed millions, possibly tens of millions, but that was still just a drop in the ocean of humanity. It was the unlucky ones who were infected. The one-per-centers. Then the infection gave its next surprise. En masse, patients started slipping into comas. And as the days slipped by, they began to waste away and die. By the thousands. And still, the infection spread. Everywhere, on news reports updating every few minutes, there were coloured depictions of the hot spots, where the outbreaks were worst across each city and country. Some cities and towns were still uninfected, but as the days continued on, more and more of them reported an outbreak, and then the cases would start to climb. As the outbreak continued to worsen, showing no signs of abating or even slowing down, panic truly started to grip the West. People made runs on the supermarkets, stocking up on canned food, bottled water, petrol, and any supplies that might be useful. Banks closed as their customers tried to withdraw all their savings. The
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-2- Outbreak
stock market crashed, sending yet more economic woe through society, and further fuelling the rush for comestibles and equipment.
Many people missed out, and their fear rapidly turned to resentment and violence. Now lootings started becoming commonplace, robbery, hijackings and even murders. Police responded with force, and riots flared into life, rapidly spiraling out of control. They weren’t isolated either – in some places they overran the police stations themselves. In some cities, it grew even more ugly, as people attacked hospitals in an attempt to kill anyone who was infected.
Desperate, most nations declared Martial Law and called in the National Guard, the Reserves – really anyone who could possibly restore order out of the looming anarchy. Even as they rolled
in, the infection was spreading still further out of control, fuelled by the riots themselves, as people with the airborne symptoms carried it on to those around them.
Then, amazingly, some of the infected started to wake up.
They were thin, as the virus had burnt away much of their muscle and fat. Their eyes were sunken into their head, sores oozing pus over sallow skin. But it was their eyes that took most first observers. They were bloodshot. Red. And there was no recognition within them. Only a terrible hunger.
The waking Infected wasted no time at all before launching themselves at people and attempting to feed. Their bodies were already close to death, just on the precipice, and were hanging on by the
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-2- Outbreak
smallest of margins. Whoever they once were had been stripped away by the horrors of the infection. Whether they still remembered anything of their former lives seemed unlikely – as though the person within was no longer there, leaving only a very, very hungry and desperate organic being.
The infected began to wake in small numbers at first, but their attacks invariably met with regular success, as they bit and clawed uninfected people, creating yet more victims to the virus. Many even managed to escape the hospitals, whilst others had never been in them in the first place, and as they woke were free to rampage around cities and towns, infecting innumerable new people.
Horrified and revolted, governments rapidly closed up security on the hospitals, and many began “euthanizing” infected patients en masse. They
tried to keep it hushed up, moving infected patients to secure facilities, where they gunned them down, then burnt or buried the bodies. Most governments had also already begun a campaign for people to dob in infected people around them, and ambulance, military and police units were already pressed to the limit trying to collect them all. Many attempted to flee, fearing what would happen to them in government hands. By now, some six weeks after the outbreak, the infection had already taken over three hundred million victims across the globe. That meant hundreds of thousands to millions of infected people within almost every single country. And as word spread of the infected “waking,” true panic started to hit. Those Infected who were loose within the cities spread chaos, terror and the virus wherever they went. Like wolves, they attacked where they weren’t expected, hid from those trying to hunt them down, and used what little analytical
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-2- Outbreak
power that was still left to them. The populations of many cities started to head away, fleeing into the country and other less populated areas, hoping to escape the virus there. But they only took it with them, ensuring these places would now get overrun with cases they were not equipped to handle.Most governments started setting up severe
measures to try and contain the virus. Huge “Green Zones” were created within cities and towns, where the government control was strongest. They were fenced and barricaded off from the rest of the world, and were enforced with the utmost scrutiny. Signs and loud broadcasts told the people waiting outside that any threats would be met with lethal force. Tanks and armoured vehicles brooded by the sandbagged gates, the soldiers covered from head to toe in hazmat gear. Many people were allowed access – thousands of more were not. As the “rejected” waited, the meanest sort of refugee camps sprouted into existence, with terrible
privations. Crime ran high in these dismal places – and fear. Those who sneezed or coughed were often shot, beaten to death or lynched. Some were even burnt alive, which was seen as the cleanest way to be rid of a potential Infected.
Within these sprawling camps, security and hygiene was non-existent. Not only could the virus spread unchecked, but other sicknesses could spring up, devastating the camp populations. Terror here was a constant companion. Shootings became commonplace, as desperate people tried to storm the barricades, or threatened soldiers who no longer cared about human life.
In the cities around them, military forces attempted to exert some sort of control. Now they no longer tried to hide the mass murdering of those with the virus. Anyone discovered to be sick got a bullet and was sent off for incineration. Every day, the trucks were loaded to the top with bodies. Ironically, this made the infection many times worse, as people with the first stages of the sickness hid from authorities and other people, only to emerge from their rooms weeks later, changed.
In fact, not everyone woke from their comas. Nearly sixty percent simply died from the sickness. Less than forty percent woke again to begin their rampage. But this was enough. Some eight weeks since the outbreak, nearly a billion people were estimated to have been infected across the globe. Engaged in running battles with Infected in every city and town, military and police forces were suffering from exhaustion, lack of supplies, and mounting casualties. The Infected struck at civilian targets, then fled as forces came to confront them, only to strike somewhere else. As their numbers swelled, they grew bolder, attempting to attack, and even trap and ambush soldiers. Increasingly pushed to their limits, running low on ammunition,
23
-2- Outbreak
exhausted beyond reason, more and more soldiers were caught by the frantic attacks. Even if they weren’t killed outright, they were infected, and were now themselves forced to choose: to die, or to flee?
Under such intense strain, some military units started to simply lose cohesion. Anarchy swallowed them. Many splintered into small groups, cut off from the main body and unable to get back. These groups broke down further still, until many were in ones and twos. When they in turn finally ran out of ammunition, there was nothing for them to do except attempt to flee.
Themselves attacked relentlessly,
picked at by Infected by night and day, the crowds waiting for
access to the Green Zones demanded entrance. They were people god damn it! And they had a right to
live. Refused yet again, many of them attempted to storm the Zones by force, prompting mass slaughter from the terrified soldiers. Still, some of the crowds were more terrified of the Infected in their midst, and swarmed over the barricades, compromising the safety of the very place they were fleeing to.
In other areas, massive packs of Infected
assaulted the Zones, testing them again and again, looking for weaknesses, trying to pierce them any way they could. Most Zones held on, but as the days passed and supplies grew thinner, they started to realize that they could not hold out forever. Besieged on every front, many governments decided to hammer the Infected with artillery and
carpet bombings. They had lost streets, suburbs, even whole cities. Now it was time to stop the Infected spreading yet further from there. It met with some success. With those areas reduced to rubble, there were less places for anyone to hide. Though thousands, if not millions of innocents were lost, the government no longer saw them as anything other than potential Infected.
Some of the Zones were saved from being overrun as the rest of the city was levelled around them. Some cities were levelled altogether, as the greatest bombs of all were used. In other places, untended nuclear reactors overloaded, spilling toxic waste
into the skies and scattering grey ash for thousands of kilometres.
Weeks and months blurred together. Government
forces tried to hold on as best they could, whilst the world died around them. Even scorching their cities
had not proved to be a permanent solution. The virus returned again and again, even
within the mega-secure Green Zones. Again,
terrified they would be discovered, many people tried to hide the virus, only to infect yet more people. And so the nightmare would begin again, paranoia and terror filling the Zones.
There were other dangers. With no clear leaders, power struggles started erupting, and military-controlled regions soon found themselves wondering what exactly they were fighting for? Here and there, totally “autonomous” states
emerged – sometimes as little as a town, sometimes much larger. Others still clung to the concept of
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-2- Outbreak
their former countries. But all had put aside their old world. This was a new, harsh time, with different rules. Death was cheap. Life was hard. Cry more.
Surviving The Now
Some six to twelve months on from the outbreak, the world is utterly transformed. Here and there, remnants of society clings to life in tenuous “fortress-towns”, Green Zones and camps. Few places have working power, water, sewerage or even enough food. Violence and brutality is extremely high amongst these lucky citizens, who live packed together in shanty towns within the ruins of
civilization. They are walled in, and are as secure as humanly possible. The rules are usually brutal and to the point – don’t get sick, don’t leave by yourself, and never leave without permission. Some of these places are somewhat benevolent, ruled by someone
who is attempting to represent the
government, or at least run a community that is for the people in it. But others are tyrants, and sometimes of the worst sort. Others are almost completely anarchistic, with violent coups, and rule by force. Yet others are ruled by cannibals, sadists, bandits or zealots.
Lack of clean food and water is an ever-present threat. The possibility of contamination with the virus makes everyone take extreme precautions with such matters, as well as with clothing. Most people have some sort of gas mask and goggles, as well as gloves, and clothing that covers them as much as possible.
Paranoia is an ever-present companion for those who have made it this far. Seeing as at least ninety-five percent of the world has succumbed to the virus and everything that followed after, they wouldn’t have made it this far without being watchful. Everyone has lost friends and relatives to the infection. Many people have lost literally everyone – and have also seen the ugliest side of humanity at the same time. By now they know: if anyone is infected, then they are a threat. They will be reported without a second thought, if not immediately killed by those around them.
At the same time, they realize that to become infected is a certain death sentence. Many choose to kill themselves. Others flee the communities and try their chances in the wilds beyond.
Lack of supplies, food and water is the real problem. Most have withstood countless
attacks from the Infected, who have now either moved on for easier game, or lie waiting for their opportunity to strike. It is
a foolish community that ever thinks the Infected have given up. Their capacity
for cunning, and for merely surviving is incredible.
The problem is, without new
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-2- Outbreak
these communities will die. Furthermore, without additional aid, they will find themselves cut off and overrun. To answer these problems, they send out brave volunteers into the wilds. The casualty rate amongst these groups is appallingly high, but they have little choice – to do anything else would be to sentence the entire community to a slow death.
The Infected
It appears that the Infected operate in some sort of cohesion with each other, even following vague pecking orders within their “packs.” Leaders will emerge, and these will tend to be the very smartest of the Infected. These are known as the Alphas. Somehow, these Alphas have held onto some of their ability to reason, and like a cunning wolf they plan their attacks with a frightening precision. Obedience to an Alpha is absolute, and interestingly, amongst the Infected, the Alphas show the greatest regard for their own lives. Many will seek to retreat, or will send another Infected to attack something they desire.
Those who have observed the Infected behaving around Alphas have been horrified to notice there is even some sort of communication between them, and they behave remarkably like an animal pack, even if they show little signs of ever truly relaxing or enjoying themselves, unless they are simply hibernating.
And this is the other alarming thing about them - with a lack of available food sources in their local vicinity, a pack will go into some sort of hibernation, gathering in small groups to sleep and conserve their energy, whilst only a few maintain a vigil. At the slightest disturbance however, the entire pack will wake, ready to feed once more.
At the same time, they will also send out Hunters. There are Infected who go in search of food in
small groups. When they find their prey, one of them will return
to the main pack and lead the entire group to the
new source, where they will attack in
concert. Unlike most Infected, Hunters rarely stay together with other Infected. They are
fast – frighteningly so. But they rarely attack prey themselves, unless starving, desperate or confident in their success. As the Infected get older, the more their body comes
under strain from the virus. They slow down, growing heavier, their bodies becoming covered in pus and fluid-filled sacs. The worst of these tend to be on their heads and shoulders, and the truly old Infected have absolutely massive sacs bulging from necks, face, shoulders and back. Under impact, these will burst, spraying highly contagious fluid onto anyone standing close by. These are known as Bursters, for obvious reasons.
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-2- Outbreak
Still others have adapted in yet another way, as Mimics. Rare as these are, they are amongst the most hated and feared, for these Infected have retained control over their voices, and can mimic the sounds of their prey – humans. Usually each mimic has only learnt a few sounds and phrases, which they use again and again. But this is truly one of the most terrifying aspects to the Infected, for a survivor in the ruins may hear a young girl crying, pleading for help, only to turn the corner and find a hideous creature crouched and waiting, with a dozen more of its friends ready for the ambush. The Infected also occasionally use weaponry. Poles, rocks, bricks, bits of timber – whatever’s to hand at the time. Some people even claim they’ve seen Infected using the occasional tool, even creating things, like pitfalls, punji stakes, and other rudimentary traps for their prey. Whether this is true or not remains to be seen, but it is certainly the case that the longer people observe the Infected, the more they see an eerie reflection of humanity itself.
The World Beyond
The world beyond the communities is a dangerous, desperate place. Quiet, eerie, and swiftly returning to wilderness, there are yet pockets of survivors scattered here and there, clinging to existence in ones and twos or small groups. Sometimes they set themselves up in makeshift shelters, or even semi-permanent huts or other dwellings. Other times they just live in the ruins, eking a hard existence out of what’s left.
There are gangs, cannibals, rogue soldiers, zealots, and crazies similarly roaming the wilds. Quite often, the line blurs between one and the other. Necessity makes for strange bedfellows.
Most cities are nothing more than ruins, rubble piling against the sides of once-great buildings, now shattered and broken, their windows staring out at those who scurry on past. There are burnt out cars, vehicles packed into once-busy streets – remnants of the traffic jams that played out in the last weeks of the fall. Grass and weeds are starting to grow amongst the debris, covering cars, bodies, rubble and buildings with a gentle green haze. It doesn’t take long for the occasional sapling to sprout up.
There are millions - hundreds of millions - of Infected still out there, slowly hunting
down what few survivors remain. But still, that’s less than one might
think. The world is a big place, and there aren’t all that many people left in it.
Besides, despite some 90% of the world getting
Infected, and then some 40% of those rising as
Infected, countless millions of them
died in the fierce battles, bombings,
starvation, nuclear fallout
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-2- Outbreak
and everything else that rocked the world in the months of the fall.
Survivors can go for days, if not weeks or even months without seeing a single Infected. But when they do, they realize it’s time to get the hell out of there – for where there’s one, inevitable many more will come. And quickly. Worse, the Hunters will pursue survivors, helping lead the rest of the pack towards them. And once one pack has made contact, other packs are often drawn to the sounds of violence, their own Hunters bringing them in from near and far, until a small horde is banging on the doors.
So how do survivors live in the wilds, when the world is such an intensely dangerous place? The answer is never going to be simple. The search for food occupies most of their thoughts. Getting enough of it to be able to hide somewhere for weeks, months or years is the goal of many people. But the likelihood of stumbling onto a cornucopia of canned food grows less likely by the day.
That means that survivors have to scavenge for every last scrap. All the while being absolutely paranoid about contamination and infection. There are other diseases out there that can take your life just as easily as the Infection. Not to mention that there are also packs of wild dogs, and
even coyotes, bears, wolves, and escaped zoo animals like elephants, hippos, lions and tigers – all of whom can
pose an incredible threat, or be a potential source of food for a survivor
with a rifle.
Guns are also growing rarer. That doesn’t mean they’re rare yet, but they aren’t exactly being produced anymore, and countless numbers of them have been lost, buried or destroyed in the fall. Those that are left are usually cherished, and their ammunition is hoarded.
Ironically, bullet guzzlers like machineguns and automatic rifles are largely shunned. They just consume far too much ammunition to be practical. Unless you’re sitting on a stockpile, every round is to be treasured – because one day, there won’t be any of them left.
Firearms are also loud, and this is most definitely a bad thing. In cities that have grown quiet, the sound of a bullet carries a long way, and the Hunters are most adept at tracking it down. Using firearms to solve your problems may sound like a great idea, until a pack of Infected locate you. Even then, your gun won’t be nearly as helpful as you think. Infected are smart enough to know that guns are bad. Using hit and run tactics, they’ll surround you before you realize it, bottle you, then come for you when you’ve got nowhere else to go. Or they might make you run, make you shoot, make you use up your precious bullets as you shoot at half-seen targets, at sounds from behind fences, bushes and buildings. Their shrieks will force you on, pushing you, until you
see only one exit – a
28
sprint for freedom, down an undefended area. And that’s exactly where they’ll ambush you, swarming in from all sides in a feeding frenzy.
The Infected have got killing humans down to a fine science. And so what if they lose five, ten, twenty of their own to get to you? They outnumber you like thirty to one. They’re still winning.
With these grim thoughts in mind, many survivors prefer to use much quieter weapons, such as bows, crossbows, and melee weapons like axes, swords and spears. Spears are actually some of the best weapons, as they allow one to stay at a distance, and avoid getting any blood or pus onto themselves. Another problem for survivors is transport. Petrol is now an absolute luxury. Even for those in
settlements, petrol is not something to be wasted. It’s just too hard to get more of it. That being said, if you’ve got ready access to a reservoir, it could last you a really long time. But when you run out, how are you going to get more?
As the months turn into years, cars become increasingly rare. So do military vehicles like tanks, which end up becoming stationary pillboxes anchoring defences, unmoving for months or years, until their tracks are completely overgrown with weeds, and they’re half-sunk into the earth. Many tanks use a gallon of petrol per mile of travel, which is simply too much to contemplate spending. Still, they make for virtually invincible cornerstone defences – at least until they run out of ammunition, or their electronics and batteries start failing them. Even those need the engine turned on once in a while.
Countless numbers of military vehicles are left where they stopped. Sometimes in vast convoys stretching for miles across roads that are slowly being assimilated back into the wilds. Within a year, they are covered in dirt, rust and patches of grass. Within ten years they may be nothing more than strange humps of grass and weeds, with the
29
occasional barrel sticking out through the mass of foliage - yet another relic of a bygone age.
Planes are even rarer. The military used plenty of them during the opening stages of the outbreak. Fleets of bombers were sent out again and again, to demolish the very cities they were originally built to protect. Missiles, nukes, napalm, gas – they tried it all. And it all required an immense amount of petrol and resources. When the support structure for these things collapsed around them, there was no way that they could keep going. Many pilots took their planes to remote airstrips, hoping to avoid the worst of the infection, others held on in the hangars and airfields as everything slowly went to hell around them. Some hang on still. Most were faced with starvation and repeated assaults from Infected, until they either fell victim or were forced to flee. Now most airfields lie barren and empty, casually scattered with all sorts of aircraft, like the discarded toys of some massive child. Aircraft lie on their sides, piled into each other, rusting and blackened
after devastating fires, or just sitting quietly at their stations, still waiting for a crew that will never arrive.
Fuel is the big problem. But solve that, and you would have aircraft at your disposal – if you knew how to fly them.
Many survivors also eschew vehicles for the very good reason that they attract a lot of attention. In a quiet landscape, an engine is really, really loud. Its sound echoes off buildings and hillsides, and generally announces your presence long before you’ve arrived. Not only does that make the Infected more than likely to take an interest in you, but it will let every other undesirable sort know as well.
People in cars die.
Most people seeking to avoid attention travel on foot. Some have taken to riding on horseback, if they can catch the horses. There are, in fact, small tribes of horsemen forming in various places around
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-2- Outbreak
the globe – returning to the old ways of bow and spear. Those who never left these ways are truly left in the best position.
Something that few people in the Developed World fully realised until the fall, was that the night is truly very, very dark. Cities make it seem light. Electricity gives one a control over darkness that simply does not exist without it. Fires and lamps provide poor substitutes. They require fuel to burn. Most settlements do not have power, and virtually no-one living in the wilds has any power either.
The night is dark. And it is also a time for hunting. The light of a campfire can be an incredible comfort, but it will also advertise your presence - even a light as small as a candle is bright enough to be noticed from hundreds of metres, if not kilometres away. Only the foolish advertise for trouble.
Many survivors living in houses have already barricaded their windows, then covered them in cloth, so no light will escape. But this also blinds you to what’s out there. Fear and closed-in spaces don’t mix well. More than one group of survivors have ended in murder and suicide as the occupants go mad.
The other major form of transport in the world is by sea, but sadly, being that a ship is a very confined space, usually with air conditioning systems pumping through every room, it is also the ideal breeding ground for the infection. The infection caught so many people unawares, whole vessels were stricken before anyone truly had a clue what was happening. By the time people started showing the sores and were quarantined, they had already infected dozens around them with the airborne virus. These people then infected dozens more before they showed the sores as well, and so it went until the whole vessel was utterly contaminated. Naval vessels were no exception. Many were completely compromised, along with whole naval bases, long before they were given the order to go to sea and escape the mayhem there, in complete
isolation. Many vessels were almost completely overcome by the virus in the first few days and weeks after heading to sea, often leaving only a very, very few people alive to run the whole vessel. And then the Infected woke.
Naval vessels are uniquely designed to be
completely defensible inside and out, but even so, locking oneself away in a room is only a good idea if you’re on the Bridge and you have some sort of way out. Outnumbered a hundred to one, and slowly starving to death, most survivors simply killed themselves or attempted to go out with a bang. Others grounded their ships, or even charged the shore, hoping to somehow survive the collision. Many such death-ships still wander the seas, drifting aimlessly, packed with dozens, if not hundreds or even thousands of Infected, who wait hopefully for a fresh meal to come their way.
Despite such immense losses, if one can completely effect a quarantine, then a ship is really the safest place you can be. Infected are notoriously terrible seamen and are unlikely to come after you. But this then begs the question – where do you plan on getting your fuel from? How about your food? Water? And how many people are on your ship? How many of them might start going mad in these close, cramped conditions, with all their friends and family on shore dead or dying? How many people might decide to try to head back and see if they can save someone, instead of sitting off-shore and doing nothing? Think you can survive a mutiny?
These problems are things countless ship crews have faced all across the world, with varying degrees of success. Fuel can sometimes be solved by gaining access to a tanker, or some sort of reservoir. Usually one has to kill the Infected who lurk around such places first, and possibly repeatedly, as they will be drawn to anywhere that people go. Tankers are certainly the most secure, except for the fact that the Infected will lurk in the cramped passageways and rooms, and you’re bound to take casualties.
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-2- Outbreak
Then there is the problem of pirates. Countless people with guns have access to small, high-speed boats, and these require but a little fuel. Pirates are a very real threat. They want your food, your fuel, your guns, and your women. And they’re more than prepared to murder you for them.
Amazingly, there are actually people who are
immune to the virus. Making up a tiny percentage of the population (less than 2%), they are completely impervious to the airborne and blood-borne strains of the disease. The exact number of these people actually still left alive is open to question, as many of them would have died in the apocalypse that followed. But those that are alive are some of the luckiest people in the entire world.
They’re also the subject of intense scientific study – making them also some of the unluckiest people on the planet. Governments across the globe have become aware of them, and have reacted in a variety of ways. Most have decided to do extensive testing – but some have taken it a step further and turned them into lab rats or subjects of vivisection. So far all of these tests have failed.
There are also those who are resistant to the disease, and many people are certainly this, as their bodies rapidly adapted to cope with constant exposure to some form of it or another. Almost no-one would have survived without this immune resistance. This doesn’t mean the virus is less deadly – not at all. But it is just a little bit harder to infect most survivors these
days. The people who are left alive are the ones who aren’t likely to succumb to a single sneeze, or a bit of blood on their face. They might…but it would be unlikely. Instead, they would need to actually ingest some of the blood or mucous, or have someone sneeze repeatedly and closely around them. A bite or scratch that draws blood is one such way the virus spreads. This is nearly always a death sentence.
Survivors have also learnt that there are some very specific, very brutal, ways to keep the virus from getting a hold. Some of these are probably more superstition than anything else. Others legitimately work. Generally this involves dousing oneself in whatever disinfectant, bleach or other cleaning liquid is to hand. Sometimes it involves boiling water on the affected area. Other times, if a survivor has been bitten, he will simply cut away the affected area of flesh. Others bleed themselves in that area, to clean the blood of the virus before it has a chance to circulate around their body.
All of these methods have worked for some – and not worked for others. But just having the hope is enough. And really, do you want to test
32
I used to be a fIrefIghter . seems lIke a long tIme ago now. a dIfferent lIfetIme perhaps? stIll, those skIlls have come In handy from tIme to tIme.
we were beIng chased - hunted really - by these goons from grenton. they kInda
thought of themselves as soldIers. even had a fancy patch on theIr arms. can’t remember what It saId.
they had already shot Jesse - put a red
mess through hIs rIght arm and forced us to carry hIm. dunno what they were plannIng for the rest of us, but I can ImagIne theIr
IntentIons towards the gIrls weren’t exactly honourable.
they were chasIng us through thIs thIck
wood, wIth lots of undergrowth, and I got to thInkIng about how many tImes I had fought fIres In places lIke thIs - they were powder kegs waItIng for a match.
but waIt a second, I thought - I have a match! so I lIt It, and let that lIttle fIre blossom. I know how to put ‘em out - but I also know how to make them burn, man.
and by god dId that fIre burn.
those grenton lads won’t be botherIng us no more, that I can assure you.
J
ust like in books or movies, there are certain people that the story follows throughout their adventures and journeys. These are the characters thatthe players will be playing (known as Player Characters, or “pcs”). But in order to work out who exactly these characters are you need a way to actually develop them. Who is it
that you will be playing? A hard-bitten mercenary? A bandit with no scruples? A father intent on saving the life of his only daughter, who is all he has left? Or
perhaps even a general with the ragged remnants of his army, trying to save
what’s left of society.
The type of characters you play will greatly affect the type of story you will be playing, and so it is certainly of great importance.
The Narrator should work out what sort of game he would like to play, discuss it with his players, see what ideas they have for their characters, and how the story could evolve from there. Quite often this will lead to more story ideas! It is often a good idea to let these ideas flow, to allow the players to make what characters they want, and then work out story and plot based off of those characters.
Chapter Three
Character
Creation
35
-3- Character Creation
There are several steps to creating a character, which will be gone over in the following pages. But bear in mind that this is merely advice on the best sequence to take. In reality, you can take any sequence you wish.
The Narrator would be wise to take the character creation period with an ounce of care, and go out of his way to help new players form their characters. Even if the Narrator is also new to the game, he will still be able to help, and it will probably make him more familiar with the rules to do so. Make sure each player has a copy of a Character Sheet (located at the end of the book) in front of him, as well as a pencil and eraser (No pens! You’d regret them later when you need to change stats.).
Go over with the player each section of the Characteristics, explaining what each individual statistic represents, and helping them get a feel for their options. He can also help them work out what sort of a character they wish to make.
Something for every player to bear in mind when creating a character is that each character is a person. Just like every real person on the face of the Earth, they have strengths and weaknesses, talents and stupidities, foibles and abilities. These are what make them people, rather than merely fleshy robots. People have motivations for everything they do, and reasons why they are the way they are. This is something of great importance to bear in mind when creating any character – in order for it to be a true story, one of deep and powerful impact, it has to be about real people, with real goals and fears, hopes and aspirations, histories, skeletons in the closet, vendettas, crimes, glories and so on. Thus, before creating the character in a set of rules, the player must first get some sort of an idea as to what sort of character he wants to make. Once he knows who the person is, he should start in with the rules – quite often, one will find that in making the character, more of who the person actually is will spring to life. Therefore, the first step in creating
a character is determining his Disposition (though remember that this is an optional step, and if you’d prefer to play without a Disposition, or to make your own, then feel free to do so!).
Dynamic Character Creation
Creation a character can be done in a very dynamic way, with a lot of give-and-take between the Narrator and players, everyone bouncing ideas off each other and so on. As they work out exactly who their character is, it is a great idea for the player to start working out some of their history. Their exact history will obviously vary a great deal depending on when the game is set. The Narrator can choose to start at the beginning of the outbreak itself, or several months or a year on. In these cases, the player should work out how the character survived. What hard choices were they forced to make? What did they have to do to survive? Did they have kill anyone, do anything terrible, or if they stayed true to their integrity, how did they manage that? One particularly exciting and dynamic way to run character creation when dealing with how the characters lived through the outbreak, is to quickly play through it.
The way this works is that the player describes who he was when the outbreak started, and the Narrator tells him what basically happened, gets the player to give his reactions (quite briefly - you want to make this exciting, dangerous and interesting, not a time drag), and then has him make some key rolls. If he gets attacked, the Narrator could briefly play through it. To make it really exciting, he should have the character take damage. His actions will mean something - so if he is really foolish, or rolls abysmally, he could still die. Remember, this is the end of the world, not a picnic.
This will ensure that by the time the character has reached the present day, he knows what the outbreak has been like. And he really knows his character. This will help him to make further
36
-3- Character Creation
choices on what sort of circumstances the character has. He might have lost several fingers when he got attacked, or havebroken his leg and had it heal badly, which not only left him with a limp but also made him hardbitten and jaded - but also taught him to survive in the wilds, eating berries and roots and whatever else he could scrounge. Maybe starvation then forced him to turn to banditry to keep himself alive.
That soldier he killed had a rifle on him, so now this becomes his most precious possession. He knows how hard it was to win it, and he’s not about to let it out of his sight. Likewise, the boots that he took off a dead man, which fit him so well, are far better than limping around barefoot in the cold, as he was forced to when he was robbed some while ago (and incidentally, had his hip broken).
He has not forgotten the bandits who broke his hip and left him in constant pain - and who left him in the wilds to die. And one day he swears he will hunt them down and kill them.
Likewise, they may recognise him if they ever see him again - and they will know to shoot first, and make certain of things this time.
If bad things happen to the player character (and they are bound to), then the Narrator may need to insist that Disadvantages are taken as well, to reflect
what has occurred. Likewise if the player character performs some feat of incredible bravery, daring and/or luck, then perhaps he should take an Advantage? Going through things this way will also help the players and the Narrator to work out the player characters’ goals, history, motivation and generally then what will make for an interesting and exciting story for them. Obviously, a crew of bandits who are only out for themselves and who consider the end of the world to be an opportunity for plunder and power will not really be interested in saving a town and gaining the gratitude of the people who live there (though stranger things have happened). This is also the time when the Narrator should have the players work out how their characters got to know each other, and how they are associated. In this wise, it is also advisable that the pcs are somewhat compatible - again, a naive young girl may not be the best team mate for a crew of bandits...but we’ll leave that up to your judgement (you never know, she may end up leading
them one day).
Ultimately, keep in mind that the player characters are people, and they will be changed by their experiences, for good or ill. Character creation should reflect this - and of course, as they (hopefully) survive through the stories, they change even more.
37
-3- Character Creation
1
-Formulate Character Concept
Get a basic idea of who you want to be, then choose a Disposition and Archetype (if desired).
2
-Narrator Selects Starting Experience
Choose from Novice (1200 Exp), Experienced (1400 Exp), and Veteran (1600 Exp).
3
-Select Attributes
Choose your Physical, Mental, Social and Spiritual Attributes, which will define who and what your character is in essence. Experience cost 4x level, compounded.
4
-Work Out Vital Statistics
Now that you have your Attributes selected, you can determine your character’s Health, and can choose his Morality.
5
-Select Skills
Choose from the array of Skills available to the character, to represent knowledge from practice and training. Experience cost 2x level, compounded.
6
-Select Circumstances
Work out what situation the character starts in. Does he have allies, friends, equipment, money, and so on? Or has he nothing but the
shirt on his back? Experience cost 2x level, compounded.
7
-Select Advantages & Disadvantages
Further tweak your character by the addition of Advantages and Disadvantages which represent the oddities and quirks of that person. Experience cost 2x level, compounded.
thanks for checkIng out our sampler!
for more InformatIon on thIs proJect:
infected.immersion-rpg.com
kIckstarter comIng soon In 2015.
