Can you share save files of this game? 'Cause if you can I'm pretty sure we should be able to get a full EoFF game out before Steve manages to finish his turn on Dwarf Fortress (Not his fault guise, it's not that he sucks at it he just "prefers pwaying with his fwiends").
There are no save files (yet).
But there is planned multiplayer, so we are clearly going to have to go on a drunken, painkiller-addicted, molly-hurling zombie trolling extravaganza
I'm suddenly feeling a wave of nostalgia for when people still used to comment on LJ. Also I was first comment, aw jeahOriginally Posted by I'm my own MILF
I'm in. I'm going to acquire this game at some point soon, inbetween writing and getting trolled alongside you in CivThere are no save files (yet).
But there is planned multiplayer, so we are clearly going to have to go on a drunken, painkiller-addicted, molly-hurling zombie trolling extravaganza
I will form The Independent Kingdom of Carmine part II. Come near me and you're getting mortared.
I will ressurect the Genetics Lab good times party and get absolutely blitzed and hurl abuse at all of you via radio. Come near me and you're getting knocked down and forcefed whiskey.
I will attempt to organize a tactical and strategic playbook to keep us alive, which will be resolutely ignored by all and sundry. Come near me and you'll be given polite advice.
I'll provide the refreshments. Come near me and you'll be fed peanut butter cookies :3
I'm having problems trying to run the game :/
Also, runnin Windows 7, if that helps anything
Last edited by Brennan; 08-08-2011 at 08:51 PM.
Woohoo, remember what happened last time? ;DCome near me and you're getting knocked down and forcefed whiskey.
Bow before the mighty Javoo!
No. No! NO!
I will not remember.
To be fair, I don't remember, I only know it happened because of the video. =x
Bow before the mighty Javoo!
Just you wait until New Years son, I will pay you back tenfold.
Moving very swiftly away from a kiwi crotch diver extraordinaire, I'm going to get back on topic.
I decided to do precisely what I said this game wasn't about in the OP - KILL THE ZOMBYS!!! That makes it sound like this was my goal from the start, and it really wasn't. I was having a jolly old lark, exploring that new map I posted about.
When you just have a hammer, you feel very naked and exposed. Flitting from building to building, rummaging for supplies, desperately hoping for a shotgun. Shotgun shells? By all means! But no smurfing shotgun for you, no sirree!
The thing about this game is that you constantly feel that you are being hunted. There is no escape, and the zombies will be one step behind you. Or possibly one step ahead of you. Walking out into the street and seeing them all around you is bad enough, but nothing is quite so bad as sweeping a new potential safe house and that smurfing noise plays when you open a door. It's genuinely scary. The worst part is when your character begins to hallucinate and merely imagines zombie attacks. After a while you don't know what's real and what's not. You find out the hard way when you're on the receiving end of a bite.
After stumbling across a replica of the mansion from Resident Evil (and boy did that make me double-take!) I found a grocery store. Inside was a survivor. This excited me; you do not often encounter survivors. His name was Gareth, in case you care. Gareth was not entirely pleased I had come into the Grocery store, and demonstrated his displeasure by shooting at me until I left. This is partially why I was on yet another quest to find a shotgun, by the way. People shooting at me just rubs me up the wrong way. Having obtained one, dear Gareth was swiftly dispatched and the grocery store and all of its foody goodness was mine! I took a hoard up to the tower block, planning to barricade myself in and survive for a week.
AND THEN.
I woke up the next day to find that I had not escaped from my scrapes with imaginary zombies unscathed. I had been infected and was slowly becoming a zombie. Lovely. I have approximately 80 shotgun bullets... BETTER DEAD THAN ZED!
So off I charge, down the stairs, right as the zombies had broken through and were charging up the stairs. A brief battle ensued, and I emerged from the tower block victorious.
Then I met this.
Well bollocks. 50 bullets left. Let's do this.
50 bullets later. Hmm. There are still zombies. And there is still me. Time to switch to the spiked bat!
Now there are no zombies. And there is still me. Or rather, what's left of me. I am starving, I am infected, I am in pain, I am wounded, I am bleeding, I am physically exhausted, and I am so very tired.
I am dead.
This is how I died.
Kate... I had to do it. I just couldn't protect us both in that house. Her wound was getting infected, who knows if the disease really would get into her? I couldn't leave her to die, I couldn't shoot her. I smothered her with a pillow. Gathered what few things I could carry and hoofed it across town.
I don't know how they knew I was in there. The windows were all boarded up. There was no more power to use the lights. I crept around. But after three days safely ensconced in a small duplex house, where I had managed to secure some decent supplies, I heard them. Hammering. Pounding. I went down to check; the door shook with each rotten fist that smacked against it. It would hold, it would hold for a long time, but they would get in in the end. And there was no other way out.
So I decided to do the only thing I could: I was going to fight. I waited, shotgun in hand, whiskey in belly, for what I was sure would be my end. And I won. I killed them all, there must have been thirty or so of them, and I destroyed them. Quickly, I boarded things up again and retreated upstairs.
Two days passed. Nothing. I didn't know how they had missed me; that shootout made more than a little noise. I guess all the ones nearby had already been attracted and then killed? I don't know. But I was running low on food and it was time to start thinking about what next. This place was... safe-ish, and it housed many supplies I had gathered. It would take two, maybe three runs to relocate everything, so I would either have to take a lot of risks, I would have to keep this as a base, or I would have to BAM! BAM! BAM!
How? How did they find me again? And why did it take so long? If any had seen me go in, or heard me shooting, they should have arrived at most a couple of hours after I retreated. I don't understand it. It doesn't matter; this place is no longer safe, the doors are falling apart and I'm almost out of wood to barricade them with. Okay. Only one solution. Take what I can carry, fight through the horde, run. Find another place to hole up.
Is this going to be the rest of my life?
I opened the door. Shotgun in hand. They poured in, a lot more than just thirty of them this time. Seventy, maybe eighty. The shotgun tore them apart, but it wasn't quite enough. They got closer. And closer. I avoided their bites, but a couple of them scratched me, one on my leg, one on my arm. I finished them off, went out of the house, and ran without looking back.
Found a small apartment. Had a zombie in it, took care of him with a baseball bat. Nice and quiet. Very messy. Looked around; enough food for a couple of days here. Saw to bandaging up my wounds, they weren't major but it was better to try and be safe than sorry. Took some painkillers and a sleeping pill once I had used the last of my wood on barricading things. Slept for about 12 hours.
Sick. Stomach churning, head spinning. Threw up in toilet bowl. Grim. Probably the infection, from a scratch or blood that splattered on me or something. No hastiness though. Don't be hasty. Took some more pills, ate more than I could really spare, found a book to read and enjoyed it by the evening light with a fair amount of booze. Not a bad day in the circumstances.
Sicker. Dwefinition the virus. Hear pounding, but door is holding. Another surviver they found? Just beating doors for no raisin? Don't know. Still reading, good book. Atwood. I like Atwood. Virus there too.
Sleep. Wake. can't see words now too blurry. bread andples not tasty. eat steak. not cook, tastes good, fills belly. Drink. Drink lots and lots. Okay. Get it together. Blaze of gory bob, blaze of glory. Load up. 65 shotgun shells. Bottle of booze. Another steak. Bat with nails.
Open door. quiet, eserted. Stride around town like the duke of new york. hardly any zombies. the smurf? where were they all they were ruining my last stand. SMurf it, going to get drunk. Found a bar, raided it, got completely smashed. pills too! might die of od hahahaha hope you all get poisoned by my corpes you smurfs
i dont rememberthe alst few days that's a lot of corpses and fire though what the hell oh god my head
4 itchy tasty
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