He stomped on the gas pedal, thee car lurching forward as bullets ricocheted off the side of the car. Thwacking and thudding, chipping off paint and braking glass. He spun the wheel quickly, making a turn that would point him in the direction of home, yet also a turn that slowed him down enough to die. Bullets broke through the unarmoured doors of his Jeep, sinking into his flesh. At first he didn’t feel it, but as he drove farther his foot grew numb and he knew he’d never make it. Killed by someone he would’ve never raised arms against. Not fair in the slightest. However the quarantine was never fair, he knew that by now. What he couldn’t understand was why after wanting to lay down his arms, to refuse the killing of friends, he was targeted. It was never fair, not for those who wanted good to return to this darkened patch of society. He couldn’t change. Theme So I had some good times playing as Arthur this lore. There were points I didn’t want to anymore, but I pushed through them and was starting to get back into the grove. Before his untimely death. Anyways, it was enjoyable playing the unrelenting charitable cop. On most occasions I only had one days worth of food on me? The odd time I would look after large stockpiles for the groups I stayed with, but avoided taking anything. It was entertaining when people accused me of being a thief, because dude I’d have to be one SHITTY thief to have so little on my person. Bare minimum supplies, sleeping on couches for most the lore and making love to a rifle. I think that sums up my experience.