Event Description The survivors of Illinois have seen odd times, indeed. As of late, however, memories seem to unravel. Survivors may not even recall their night's final hour. Still, some remember up until the last minute. Then, everything drifted away—much as if one had suddenly become unconscious. Some survivors were poised to engage a local monster: an old man who hungered for flesh and spoke of life everlasting. Meanwhile, others sat in their bedrooms to tuck in for the night—only to drift away during some small chore. What strange thing awaits our survivors? Event Date Saturday, November 10th Event Time 8 p.m. EST Event Length Throughout the weekend, and into the early week. Other Information Survivors will enter the event through a transition lobby. This lobby is similar to those we've used before in The Road Ahead and Crossing the Line. Skills and traits will be distributed, and characters will be given individual lockers to hold their RP pets, children, weapons, and special items. All of these things will be redistributed to players very soon. In the near future, entire inventories will be restored as well. It simply takes a while to spawn everything, requiring ample time throughout the week to catch everyone online. Transitioned characters will be whitelisted and given log-in information soon. Any new characters, as well as characters who've missed the event, will be introduced or re-introduced following the first event. Lore and RP information will be given to explain the absence. The lore's overall structure has changed quite a bit. There will be a higher push for social intrigue, puzzles, and player-driven story through the environment's design itself. The lore's end phase has been created to not only invite current characters back, but to also serve as a fun place for new characters to impact and thrive within. Regardless of how long The Road Ahead lasts, the remaining lore has been built to accommodate for those currently playing, those who may want to kill time, and those who may not have played as often alike. Below is a new event section dubbed 'Campfire Stories.' This content is optional, but it might help characters feel a little more ingrained in the lore. Mostly, it recounts old events and compiles information that might be useful to you and your character as the lore moves on. Again, it's just some extra stuff. Cheers. Campfire Stories The Infection On February 26, 2018, a mysterious flu dubbed Disease X tore through Illinois. Throughout the state’s northeastern counties, rumors of monstrosity arose. Odd about the flu was its rapid onset and violent nature—one not seen by the likes of humankind ever before. Even odder was the flu’s entrance to the world. Little information exists to support the flu’s cause, yet many Illinois survivors assert the flu’s home-state origins. As a quarantine line was established in the state’s southern regions, the U.S. National Guard was deployed to aid the country. As Fairhaven FEMA camps rose not a week following the calamity’s start, civil unrest eroded what little security survivors found within the quarantine camps. In the final days of February, the sick and healthy alike began disappearing. Meanwhile, a humanitarian organization formed to protect The Infected, themselves. The Citizens for Ethical Infectee Treatment Association would meet its match, however, as the Illinois Quarantine blossomed with desperation and bloodshed. While The Infection’s origins remained unknown, its Illinois core could not be ignored. In early March, the U.S. National Guard entered Kings Mill in the dead of night. Only gunshots and flickering lights escaped the chaos—listened to by those residing in darkened homes, fearing the midnight screams. As the state’s inner quarantines fell, citizens were evacuated via cross-state highways and countryside roads. Despite a rapid approach to Kings Mill, the U.S. National Guard was all but suffocated in the turmoil. Many of its members were left behind in Fairhaven as civilians fled—either out of poor luck or a hidden grand design. Midnight screams were not the only bumps in the night, either. Whispers of muffled voices startled the uneasy slumbers of many Illinois quarantine survivors. As small survivor enclaves spawned across White Horse Creek, several swore they’d witnessed a new conundrum within the madness. The Infected, previously ‘brain-dead’ upon the sickness’s onset, had learned to open doors. Others, meanwhile, had used rudimentary tools in their assaults against humanity. Odd individuals soon appeared, whispering nonsensical riddles to the clear-headed of White Horse Creek. While intermittent, the entities shared a pervasive message with those who’d stayed up a little too late at night: All was not as it seemed to be, and the forest’s edge held a wealth of secrets behind its tangled branches and crumbling leaves deadened by the post-winter wind. Before the middle of March, a survivor of Kings Mill emerged—ill with a potentially new aspect of The Infection. Whether the product of bio-warfare or The Infection’s core elements itself, the mysterious ‘fog’ seemed to spread The Infection upon contact. FEMA soon became a target for blame, and road travelers would soon shape the face of Illinois—enacting citizen’s law to either maintain order or exploit refugees, for better or worse. As Illinois struggled to stay afloat, the Quarantine Line revealed itself in The Washington Dam. Gateway, resting upon a waterway spawned from the Chicago River’s southernmost spouts, soon became a place of the state’s darkest understanding. A man named Dean Adamson explored The Infection’s mechanics, displaying an odd understanding of The Infection itself. As Kings Mill was verified to have spawned a new intelligent breed of infected, the early days’ strangeness soon took form in up-close-and-personal encounters with the ‘Super Infected.’ While the later days of Illinois are a story for another time, Port Falmouth would soon become a hub for the state’s remaining survivors. The rest of the world existed only in static—drowned by the state’s breached quarantine. Fairhaven, Illinois, is no more. It exists as a collapsed, muted expanse of stretching roads and crumbled buildings. Those looking back, to the start, may even remember a dreary, drizzling night in late February: a night when Illinois was just another place—and when Chicago’s skyscraper lights flickered like fireflies upon the backdrop of a quaint Lake Michigan. For others, the state’s new year is simply a worn page in a forgotten book. Despite the clean rubble of Fairhaven’s post-eradication, Chicago’s fate was one of fire. Perchance a still, breezy night like any other, the city’s last occurred in one which was particularly gray. As jets roared across suburbia, survivors looked to the sky. As the urban skyline flickered in silence, they watched the night as one. Quite a lot has happened in this Prairie State of ours.