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     The Story, Guest Forum
     Posted: Dec 21 2013, 10:27 PM
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    The crossroads lay at the center of The Camp.

    They rest on the intersection of two back roads that used to connect multiple farming communities with their larger suburban counterparts in the Atlanta area. Before the outbreak, the crossroads had been a home to a healthy and well-attended farmer's market that allowed all of the local farms to display their wares and produce to the more affluent and health conscious visitors from the city.

    Like much of the rest of the world, the outbreak of the Wildfire plague destroyed the once peaceful back-country that this crossroads rested on, and filled it with all manner of violence from both the living and the undead. Most of the farmers that used to service the market and fill it with food and goods retreated to their individual households to wait out "the Apocalypse" or "God's Wrath." They largely had food stocked, growing, or on hand, and sturdy fences to keep the first waves of undead from entering their land.

    Most suburban dwellers were not near as lucky. Thousands escaped their homes with nothing more than what they could carry in backpacks, fighting to stay alive as the walking dead consumed every living soul around them. A large contingent of these city dwellers and rural refugees alike gathered to this former farmer's market, clinging to a hope and a memory of stands stocked full of food, weapons, and life-saving trinkets.

    The Camp is the result of this gathering.

    The Camp rests squarely on the ruins of the former farmers market. Now three months into the collapse of society, it has become a tent city of survivors. Its population is as varied as the country in which it resides. Wealthy tents share what food they can with the poorer mostly suburban population. Those that cannot pay daily ration serve guard duty along the perimeter, a mishmash of cars, wooden fences, and garbage. Attacks are a daily event along the lines, and fatalities are common.

    There is no official law enforcement among the tents, aside from a few well-armed former National Guardsmen and local lawmen that keep outbreaks of violence in the camp to a minimum. Camp leadership is mostly fluid and undefined, leading to a variety of chaotic shouting matches and a fair share of fist fights. All everyone can agree on is that the infected must be kept out and that food must be brought in if they are to survive. How these rules are enforced is left completely up to those enforcing them.

    At this point, food is getting low, the attacks are increasing, and the perimeter is getting harder to maintain. The camp itself is getting filthy with human garbage and waste, and people are beginning to lose hope and bitterly turn on one another. The leaders of the various tent "tribes" that have formed argue that their best hope for survival is to seek out the farmers living around them, and by trade or by violence, take what they need from them. This argument is starting to gain ground, and the farming community surrounding The Camp is starting to get nervous.

    Somehow, your character has ended up at these crossroads. Perhaps you are a survivor, hoping to find solace among the multitude of lit bonfires and multi-colored tent liners. Perhaps you are someone with something to offer the camp, such as weapons, food, or your own skills. Perhaps you are instead looking at the camp as a target, a weakly-defended band of ragtag survivors that are ripe for the picking. Perhaps you are even from one of the local farm households, here to see what sort of threat is looming from just over their borders besides the dead becoming alive once more.

    For whatever reason, you are here at the crossroads, and your story and your destiny lies before you.

    Welcome to The Camp.
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