Community Spotlight – 2023 Recap

Happy new year and welcome to the Community Spotlight 2023 Recap! This edition marks the end of another fantastic year on DayzUnderground and will celebrate some of the best stories, videos, artwork, events, and streams from last year. This recap should serve as a reminder that almost 10 years after the launch of the server, DUG continues to thrive and grow. From continuous DUG mod updates, to CCE (community controlled environment) implementations voted in by the community, to Winter Chernarus – 2023 was a year for the books! As we begin 2024, we hope that the content highlighted in this article will inspire our players to continue creating characters, factions, stories, and experiences that are simply not possible anywhere else!

As always, no story is too big or small on DayzUnderground, so get out there and make your mark!

BEST VIDEOS OF 2023

“Evil Creates Evil” by ThatDAMNHarvey

This is the origin story of one of DUG’s most infamous antagonists, Harvey, and how he came to be the leader of the notorious apocalypse gang, Dark as Midnight.

Video by Harvey

“Forsaken” by Cpt. Painkiller

This video showcases a fantastic combination of edited and real in-game footage to tell the story of Vane, a character who made his mark on many factions across Chernarus and had factions make theirs on him in return. With the story-telling of Cpt. Painkiller and the original soundtrack created by Rock’N’Rolf, this video is shaping up to be a classic!

Video by Cpt. Painkiller

Soundtrack by Rock’N’Rolf

“The Tale of Buford Beckett” by vadthedad

This impactful story video depicts a heart-breaking tale from Buford Beckett’s past – a moment in time that shaped how his character has developed. Now in the words of Buford himself, “find a nice view and feel the cool breeze through your hair” – and enjoy the video!

Video by Vadim

“The Failed Capture of Oz” by DopeBobs

Using the original gameplay footage, Bobs released his point of view from capturing the illusive leader of the Wizards, Oz. In the palm of his hand, Bobs manages to restrain him and take him to Guglovo, home of the Black Sheep – until things get.. magical.

Video by Bobs

“Ego on DayzUnderground – Episode 7 – The Coalition” by Egobyte83

This season of “Ego on DUG” has finally wrapped up to the finale! This final episode of season one sees Ego finalize his mission of bringing many of the factions together in common cause; ending with the first historic conference of the Upfront Coalition. Hopefully leaving the lands in good hands, Ego takes his leave to focus on pressing personal matters. In addition to a quest for vengeance, he also needs to find out more about the strange visions he has been having. Will he ever return? Only time will tell.

Video by Egobyte83

“Odyssey Announcement Video” by Danny Boi

This video directed by Danny Boi highlights the announcement of Odyssey, a group formed from the remnants of the historic Dugout.

Video by Danny Boi

“The Guardians” by Zonk

Pablo_Zonk and Co. are back once again to bring you all a terrific tale of The Guardians, one of the oldest groups on DayzUnderground with remnants that can still be found thriving throughout the corners of Chernarus, trying to keep their morals and way of life from fading.

Video by THE COMMUNE

BEST ARTWORK OF 2023

“Welcome to the ORCC” by Jimmy

Animation by Jimmy

“Welcome Comrades” by Valdark

Artwork by Valdark

“Walking on Eggshells” By Eggfoot

Artwork by Eggfoot

“Reign of the Masquerade” By Cpt. Painkiller

Music by Cpt. Painkiller

BEST STORIES OF 2023

“Settled Revenge” by Shifty

It had been 289 days since the turn of the year, 289 days since a bunch of wasted nobodies got together to celebrate the New Year, 289 days since Dark As Midnight showered Severograd with bullets & 289 days since I last saw Rolf.

Almost a year later, stood above a tranquil grave in the depths of the Godswoods, Alice handed me her pouch full of pens and paper & I began to write. It had become tradition for a handful of Odyssey members along with Alice to get together every couple of months to visit the grave, write some notes & reminisce on the good times. Sadly, this was the spot where my good friend Rolf had been buried. I’m not usually one for grieving and emotions, but this one hurt.

I’d known Rolf for a long time, fuck, at this point longer than I’d currently known anybody else. Back in 2019 we used to rep the same group and colours of the Cartel. What feels like a lifetime ago we were now the only remaining members left, everybody else had either disappeared or perished. My relationship with Rolf wasn’t as strong back then, we lived under the same roof, grew cannabis together and shot at a few people side by side but he was never somebody I’d consider taking a bullet for. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if most of our cannabis crops that went missing were because of him but that was the type of guy he was, he was smart but also greedy which ultimately turned out to be his downfall.

The Cartel / Svetlojarsk / 2019

After my departure from The Cartel I didn’t see much of Rolf again, it wasn’t until one autumnal evening 2 years later where our paths finally crossed again. I had heard rumours that an old friend of mine had been spotted up at the Dugout, where I was now living, which is where we eventually had our run in. After an initial catch up and a run down of pointless shit that had happened over the previous 2 years I was curious as to exactly why he was here. For starters he wasn’t dressed like his usual self, he came dripped out in a shiny brand new leather jacket which caught my eye. Rolf later went on to tell me how he had stumbled upon some stashes full of valuables, the greed got the better of him and he was caught in the process. Unfortunately for him the stashes he was going through belonged to the Forsaken Loyalists.

At the time I don’t think he knew the severity of what was to come, to be honest i don’t think either of us did. Rolf went through a list of items that the Forsaken Loyalists were demanding he paid back to them, the list included an AS-VAL, a plate carrier as well as other valuable weapons & items. It’s fair to say at that time he was about as homeless looking as can be, I wasn’t sure whether to just send him on his way and wish him good luck or step in and try to help, given he was an old friend I decided to help. During the days that followed I asked just about everyone I came across if they had the items Rolf was looking for. I was prepared to give away my own personal belongings in order to get the shit he needed to repay his debt, but sadly I failed.

The Dugout church / 2021

In the coming months Rolf would eventually go on to wear that disgusting bright green armband of the Forsaken Loyalists, but as I was led to believe it was by no choice of his own. I don’t know whether the debt had been paid or not, but it was clear he didn’t have much of a say. From my perspective it was like he was being held captive, he either did work for them or they’d kill him type of thing. Whatever was going on, it pissed me off, especially considering during this time my relations with the Forsaken Loyalists were at an all time low to the point of wanting certain members of the group dead.

During Rolf’s time with the Loyalists we remained in contact quite frequently, he would often visit us at the Dugout, probably due to his admiration for Emerson more than anything but Rolf always remained good to me and as crazy as it sounds we grew closer, closer than during our time back in the Cartel together.

Some months had passed and I found myself back down in Bor with the Vigil helping to rebuild and run the Sanctuary. During these times the Loyalists were high up in just about everyone’s list to kill, including the 506th. It was both risky and stupid but I allowed Rolf to visit us at the Sanctuary for a while, all the while knowing that if the 506th had seen him up there they likely would have killed him. We began to do more trading, not just between the two of us but he helped out other members of the Vigil as well. This ultimately put us back in the business books with the Loyalists, it became my way of keeping Rolf close but also having more knowledge on the whereabouts of the rest of his members. Myself and Tony, my co-leader at the time specifically wanted Joe Fraser dead which meant this would potentially be our way of making that a reality. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, Rolf failed to log our trades into their books which meant we were soon trading shots with the Loyalists again instead. He was a fucking idiot for that and I let him know.

Despite the new ongoing war with the Loyalists and my frustrations over him starting this shit again, Rolf did remain loyal, but not to them. One evening a member of ours, Luna, had a barrel of hers found near Bor presumably by the Loyalists. Not much went missing, a few boxes of nails and some other useless bits of shit but those nails were surprisingly returned to the barrel a few days later, Rolf was to thank for that. It was clear to see that he was struggling, he sounded miserable and out of sorts on many occasions. We even hooked him up with a tent or two so he could squat in an apartment down in Chernogorsk to get some peace, it was obvious he wanted to be anywhere but Nagornoe. During his last few months he seemed almost defeated, there was a sense of tension in the air whenever we would meet due to the unpredictability of what he would do next. Rolf knew what loyalty meant, more than the group he was apart of with the damn word in their own name. Lewis who at that time was running the Dugout was rumoured to be wanted dead by the Loyalists, Rolf was the man for the job and had the opportunity to follow through with the orders given to him, instead he spared Lewis his life that night and let him live. He sacrificed his own safety and life for another man who had been good to him. There are many reasons why I’ve grown to dislike the Loyalists, their treatment of Rolf played a key role in that.

289 days ago, on New Years Eve, Rolf was killed. My final moments with Rolf that night were tense, we were both slightly intoxicated and the two of us exchanged punches at one point. The party, hosted by Douglas and Guta was attacked by Dark As Midnight, we lay on the landing together side by side guarding a door and that was that, my final memory with him. He left the building and was murdered soon after. A few months had passed, sat at the old Sanctuary camp which belonged to the Vigil, Danny of Odyssey grabbed our attention to something happening over the radio. I snatched my radio, turned it on and sat back down with Ali to listen in. There was a conversation taking place between Xavier of Dark As Midnight & Alice of the Forsaken Loyalists, within mere seconds of switching the radio on Xavier muttered the words “I think it’s fun if you know anyway, the man who killed Rolf was Vriska…” and that was that, we finally had a name. Alice took us all by surprise in the aftermath to Rolfs death, she seemed to willingly help us out without asking for much back in return and fuck, if it wasn’t for her we would never have had the chance to bury Rolf. Despite her wearing the Loyalists green armband at the time, I was thankful for her.

Severograd / New Years Eve 2022

I’ve left many notes at Rolf’s grave over the past months, often used as an excuse to write down my thoughts so I don’t bore others with them. My anger had been building up recently, Ali had been missing for some time, The Loyalists and Dark As Midnight were nowhere to be seen and revenge for his death seemed like an impossible task. Despite this, I signed off my latest note as always by reminding him that I would seek revenge. A few days had passed, I along with a few other Odyssey members were spending some time in Brixton where we called home. Shots began raining down at us from the Northern hill, thankfully each one of them missing. I remember Lewis shouting “I’ve shot one, It’s DAMN!” as Jack, Alice and Emerson stuck together whilst hunting for the rest who had scurried away. Gunfire could soon be heard again in the distance when Jack screamed over the radio “Lewis, i think it’s Vriska…” shortly followed by “I’ve got him unconscious and tied up…” and to the surprise of everybody present, it was Vriska.

Vriska, with a nasty looking wound to his leg was rushed down to the old Dugout church where he and Lewis exchanged words for a while. There was only ever to be one outcome, Vriska wasn’t leaving alive, but I wasn’t sure if Lewis was prepared to kill his once close friend. I had very few words for Vriska, I looked him in the eyes and let him know I’d be putting a bullet in his head if nobody else did, there was no way out for him.

Vriska and Lewis led the rest of us into a house opposite the Dugout church which had old history and meaning between the two of them. I could tell by his silence alone that Lewis was finally prepared to do it. I glanced over Lewis’ shoulder along with the rest of the Odyssey members as he raised his gun making sure that the final faces Vriska saw that day were the faces of those who he did wrong, with one pull of the trigger it was over, revenge had been settled, for now at least…

The Godswoods / 2023

“Animosity and Ambivalence” by Cob

This story gives a glimpse into faction politics and that hardships that come with it. Dive into this journal entry and watch as the water boils over in the Southeast between the Golden Peppers and the Boys of Brena.

Has it really been that long? I haven’t had mind to put pen to paper in over 5 months. In truth, I haven’t had the heart to.

Lucas set off to be a part of something new and my heart sank at the way in which we parted just before the storm blew in it feels like ages now. While spending time in the North we heard murmurs of him here and there and we wondered, and hoped, he was alright. He always brought a smile to my face and his intentions were usually good, I forgave him for that DAMN mess long ago…but still a melancholy lingers as I’ll never truly stop wondering.

While up north, there were a series of shootings; confusion abounds at Merry Men’s Sherwood Point. -A place often targeted by those wishing to do harm. We got past it, save for a distasteful encounter with a woman named May. A self-proclaimed former member of the NFA whose influence has seemingly spread to every corner of this place. Rowan righted that transgression without hesitation, it was impressive to say the least. I have more thoughts sequestered away on this…but they are for another time.

I wished to spend more time on these topics but the most recent of events need to be purged from my mind as their absurdity and severity have now become equated.

We had taken notice that a house north of Balota had become a bit of a sticking point for Vigil and the Boys of Brena; a territorial dispute waged through notes. Regi had family that owned that home back before the fall, which he had left when joining us. Notes were left to that end and notes from BoB were left in response. So, we took it upon ourselves to swing by BoB’s place in Komarovo called The Boredwalk. We were greeted by Tophat and Jim, a self-stylized partial nudist of sorts. Now, this wasn’t our first meeting, as we’d had talks with a number of their members in the past, all of which were sound and seemingly positive. Herein we talked of the house in question, poking a little fun about it all, keeping the mood light and reiterating it’s not a GP territorial dispute but a familial claim. When Tophat and Jim couldn’t come to a decision they called in the Mayor of New Brena, someone they referred to as Farmer Mayor Zach. While speaking with him, much to our surprise, he sided with Regi and ruled that the home was his. Jim immediately and repeatedly began shouting “No!” pulling the Mayor aside and ejecting us from their territory.

An odd end to things that had seemed to be going well so far but, mental stability didn’t seem to be in vogue at The Boredwalk; as just prior to that, Dan who we’d spoken with before, wandered around on all fours claiming to be a man-wolf and we were regaled with tales of Rick suffering a head wound and becoming convinced he was an automaton.

So we left, locked up Regi’s home, and pinned a note thanking the Mayor on the door. Thinking nothing more of it. In the days that followed BoB laid a similar claim to a home in Pavlovo with a litany of misspellings and even a wholly different name regarding the ancestral owner they alleged relations to. In conjunction with that we found Regi’s home was taken over by none other than that poor man who believed himself a wolf. This being theft, we left word regarding a form of repayment that would suffice. Shortly thereafter we employed the services of a neutral third party, Oswald, to conduct a land survey. Much to our shock, he was shot almost immediately when attempting to peacefully conduct his work.

This was exceptionally puzzling and concerning as we hadn’t believed this matter required force let alone violence and especially from the Boys of Brena… we had held them to a higher regard.

During that better part of two weeks, we attempted to meet with The Daily News reporter Silver. Catching an article they wrote regarding the Mayor being deliberately excluded from a Brena meeting, and given our experience with the puppeteering we witnessed, felt it would be important to share. Despite our best efforts via radio and in-person attempts, it appeared that Silver was avoiding us or being forced to do so. We resorted to writing down these events on pieces of scrap paper and hurling them through the office window in hopes they’d be seen. Alas it was not to be.

After Oswald’s shooting and further notes being left on Regi’s home from BoB stating any trespassers would be shot on sight, it was apparent that repayment would only come if it were taken. Being ever-supportive of my people, I agreed with Regi that the Balota depot would likely house something of equivalent value.

The plan was executed with the understanding that bloodshed was to be avoided as the citizens of Balota were either unaware or misinformed of the manipulation taking place of their Mayor and potentially their news service. Despite townsfolk being nearby and a minor interruption, it went off without a hitch with not a single drop of blood being spilt.

Regi felt good about what was recovered and while the home of his family was forcibly taken for now, he didn’t let it sour his memories of being there as a wee lad with his mee-maw, sharing tales of her cooking and hunting prowess.

The next day I found my mind wandering, thinking of the odd series of events and how we ended up here. But it was cut short when Rowan radioed bumping into a fella named Chauncy asking for a bit of line to repair his clothes, Trev shot back affirmations that he knew of him and he was solid. While Rowan searched himself for a needle and thread, gunshots rang out leaving Rowan bloodied and on the ground.

It begins.

With no armband on, we weren’t sure what to make of this situation or even if this person was really Chauncy. After a time though, the motivation revealed itself. We watched as a number of Brenans we hadn’t seen together in nearly a month swept through our compound. Practically tripping over themselves there were so many. You could see it in their movements, trigger fingers itching, their eagerness to take lives. Disgusting. Our flag was lowered. Dishonorable. Then I saw what I can only assume was Rick. They had a metal bucket on his head. The man, speaking in a jolting way, with a voice altered, I could only pick out bits and pieces but he was not the Rick I had spoken to prior. What had they done to him, what did they convince him he was? I watched them put a hammer in his hand as he went to work on our lock…it was bizarre. At any rate the ebb and flow of the battle took with it losses from us and from them. We held up well given their number and I’m reminded again that my people are the few worth caring about, the few worth being proud of. We lost the truck and its contents of which are inconsequential compared to the blood needlessly spilled.

It was only after the fact that we heard word of a radio broadcast going out about war declarations on us, followed shortly thereafter by a series of supporting articles from the printing press. I wondered, do the folks down there really rest all of their hopes and dreams on the shoulders of a nudist, a delusional were-man, and someone who’s brain injury is being taken advantage of? We’re not liberators, it’s not our place to intercede, I just hope that they are at least not being exploited to that degree.

The references to diplomacy in the propaganda being handed around make me think back on Lucas’ parting words about my skills there…but I don’t feel them coming to life, I don’t feel anything really. There is no seething rage like times of old.

A “war” fought over the most inconsequential of things. Just as any other in this place.

I see faces of the unfamiliar and I no longer wish to say hello.

“No Sanctuary For The Lost” by Friar

Friar released an unsettling story describing a challenging interaction between The Lost Legion and Dark As Midnight – a fantastic read that highlights a tense moment between two very different groups on DayzUnderground.

Churches. A place of refuge and safety from persecution, a relic from an age gone by and a place that has now lost all meaning. As for the church in Gorka, it would provide no sanctuary for the lost.

Blood stains now paint the floor where people once worshiped and the stale smell of death is only punctuated by the sense of trepidation that myself, Otis and the two volunteers feel as men clad in black and red stand guard on the doors.

We wait for the arrival of their leader. Normally self-assured, I feel on edge. We had been told countless stories and had been advised not to come here. However, my desire for information regarding the new evil that has been blossoming in Chernarus and that of the safety of my people at home gives me comfort in that what we are doing here today is the right thing to do, Albeit foolish.

Pleasantries were exchanged and we are into the nuts and bolts of it.

“The Masquerade have a place up by Altar on your doorstep. What of them do you know?” I ask.

“I mean, they have the tower that they throw people off, which is fun to watch.” Harvey retorted along with a cackle.

Somewhat dismissive of my line of questioning, or maybe they just didn’t know too much, I was swiftly ushered onto my second request.

“My second request, I want you to keep your goons away from Zub. They’ve been taking potshots at those who farm in the yard.”

“Goons” he mutters, almost as if offended yet amused that my previous line of questioning regarding the other group somehow showed more respect to them then I do those in front of me. Albeit, I have none.

“…our reputation demands respect.”

“…calling us goons ain’t very friendly.”

“…well actually we came down and demanded epoxy. We would of left you alone but one of you shot at us.”

Varying voices seemed dismayed, and the blame fell on us, but still I persist.

“Your goons have been taking potshots more than once, and have been loitering on the hill beside camp. It’s your own fault. I doubt that your visit was that friendly. Anyway it’s a polite request to lay off taking shots at the people in the compound.”

Otis steps forwards and in an effort to ease some of the tension, asks to provide something of theirs that we found. Out of his pocket he pulls out the insignia that they commonly wear, red cloth marked with the black hand, and passes to one of them.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Otis said.

The room cracks smiles as they make sarcastic comments.

“Aw, cute!”

“Heartwarming.”

“Hmm… Anyways, back to this goons thing. What’s the incentive here? Where’s the quid pro quo? You want something from us, what are you gonna give for it? How about some courtesy when we visit you guys?”

Unsurprisingly, they want something in return. However I had not even contemplated what they would ask. My over eagerness and gung-ho approach is as much a flaw as it can be pro, much to the dismay of Stephen sometimes.

“I’m not going to trade with you guys.”

“This isn’t a trade. It’s a payment. Very much one way.”

“Yeah… I’m not going to extorted, I’m not coming here once a month with goodies for you guys.”

“CHUNKY!”

Their guns wave and shots ring off. Believing this was a scare tactic I stood firm. However unbeknownst to me for a few seconds one of the volunteers I had brought along was mercilessly gun down in cold blood behind me.

“Anyways. Wonna try that again?” Harvey says, chest puffed.

Otis and I check the body of the volunteer.

“He’d be alive if he hadn’t reached for his gun.” Poopy added.

I stood in shock, Otis wide-eyed and aghast whilst our second volunteer breaks down in tears as she realizes the precarious position I walked us into.

“Is this one crying? Is this it? You have criers?”

I solemnly respond…

“It’s easy to be brave when you’re stood surrounding us with your guns. I’m sure under different circumstances you wouldn’t be as brave.”

…which was met with disregard and laughter.

Harvey then proceeds with the negotiations, knowing that I’m not in a position to refuse or just candidly walk away. He provides a list of provisions, which is often interrupted by his Machiavellian laugh, with resources scarce enough as it. What he wants is unreasonable, he wants the same things we give to the destitute and needy.

Exasperated I say “It ain’t happening.”

Gunshots reverberate through the hall once again displacing the dust that lays dormant on the décor. Our second volunteer was murdered, and seconds after the body touches ground a giddy Warboy, knife in hand, dances over to the corpse. The sound of flesh peeling from bone rings loud in the ears. Otis falls to his knees and vomits at what he has witnessed.

Hands shaking, I nervously approach my comrade and tell him to hang in there.

Thor begins to beat Otis with his gun. “STOP CRYING!”

“GET OFF HIM!” I shout… whilst those left watching laugh.

“You’re still not getting it. This isn’t a yes or no question, it’s a yes. The goods will be here.” explains Harvey.

Poopy chimes in with his two cents. “Well, it is a yes and no question, yes they leave here or no they don’t.” All whilst the giddy Warboy dangles the flesh of one of our volunteers in the face of Otis.

Negotiations carry on with Harvey reeling of a list of demands that are what I find to be too excessive, so I once again refuse, not for the sake of being defiant but for the sake of having some hope we can follow through. However, in a futile attempt to also sow some sort of peace within the region so that the innocents can trade freely, I ask of them to refrain from attacking our good friends and the trade group ORCC who sit upon the mountain. Proclaiming the obvious that people need to trade this was only met howls of disdain.

“FUCK NO! YOU GET DOWN THERE AND DO YOUR BUSINESS AND GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE.”

“YOU HEAR GUNSHOTS YOU STAY AWAY.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll let my guys know that if they see that armband, we won’t shoot unless you shoot first.”

I remain silent, giving no answer an We once again go through the list of provisions they want, again it’s too much and again irked I advised “It isn’t happening.”

Boom! Thud! Otis shouts in pain, his leg torn asunder like a weathered flag. “GET HIM SOME MEDS” I plead, only to be met nonchalantly with a “He’s fine.”

“Say something like ‘it ain’t happening’ again, and we’re keeping Otis!” Thor hawkishly shouts.

Done with the violence and fearful of what may happen to myself and Otis, I relent and accept the demand put forward. We discuss a time for us to deliver the goods and that if it does not arrive today’s events will be tame in comparison.

We are then pushed and shoved out of the church and into the dark where the smell of fresh air and the feeling of the cold breeze was a relief after the evening we had endured. Led by armed guards to the hill we entered from we leave to the chorus of gunfire and shouting behind. Myself and otis arm in arm limp away from Gorka uphill on our way home.

“Something Awful” By Stephen

Something awful had happened.

Stephen was lying on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. One second, he would feel boiling hot. The next second he’d feel as if he was freezing to death. Whenever he tried to stand, he would gag and vomit. He’d been in this state of torment for a whole hour. Or was it two hours…? Maybe more…?

Numbers chimed in his head.

Fourteen…twenty six…nineteen…zero…six…

Across the room on the desk sat an old, battered cassette player. There were depleted batteries scattered all over the floor. The trash can was full of crumpled papers and shattered pencils. Stephen had spent weeks decrypting the mysterious message on that damned cassette tape. What had it done to him? He had only been curious!

…zero…four…twelve…sixteen…fifteen…

Stephen recalled the moment of satisfaction he’d felt when he had realized that he was making progress in unlocking the code. Had he known what he was getting into, he would have curbed his curiosity and thrown the tape into the ocean.

…ten…fifteen…zero…eight…ten…

Something had spiked itself deep in Stephen’s head. Something old and foul. Like water with a thin layer of rancid oil lying atop, a certain degree of darkness had indirectly remained alive within the coded message.

…twenty…zero…two…twenty one…zero…

When Stephen had decrypted that message, he’d caught a glimpse of that darkness. He’d experienced a small taste of that residual evil, and while not potent enough to kill a person, it was just powerful enough to serve as a reminder of a malevolence from stories long concluded.

Nine…zero…two…fifteen…five…

He needed to hear it again. He needed to hear it one last time. Once more wouldn’t hurt, right? Stephen struggled to his feet, fought off the wave of nausea, and limped over to the desk. With a shaking hand, he grabbed the cassette player and pressed the play button. As the encrypted sounds washed over him, his torment subsided. No more nausea. No more pain.

Something wonderful had happened.

“An Enduring Nightmare” By Akim The Revelator

As usual, Akim has produced a beautifully written story with excellent details really bringing the story to life. This is a must-read for fans of The Cult of Papa.

The first breath forced my eyes open. It was shallow, painful, and the salty sea water rushed over my body like an icy blanket. I had sunken into the beach like a heavy stone, embedded in the sand and rocky shoreline of this forsaken place. I had become the scenery or, rather, something more akin to the sound of far off conversation around a dim fireplace. Audible, but only just so that the words were broken and incoherent. Incomprehensible but always lurking out just beyond the trees. I stared at the sky, and found myself submerged in a small swell from the ocean.

I stared up through the murky waters with blood shot, stinging eyes and lifted my arms out of the sand. A layer of rock and sand filtered off either side of my limbs as they rose from the foamy water and fell back in. I braced them on stones embedded in the beach and lifted my upper body out of the icy waters to gasp in another breath. My teeth chattered and my entire body shook from the cold, but I rose from the watery grave.

Breath, a temporary white cloud served to reinforce that I live. How? I don’t know, this was not the first time I had dragged myself out of some pit to suffer again at the constraints of this world. I dragged my legs out of the sediment, and out from the frigid grasp of the roaring ocean waters, until I laid on dry grass and dirt. The night sky was fading quickly, replaced with a blazing red and orange glow. A cleansing fire, rising from the horizon and seeming to be birthed from the same rage that shook my body to life, swept over me and the tainted land upon which I found myself.

The biting cold penetrated my bones and flesh, integrating itself deep into the being that had been spat back from the deep dark of the other side. Respawned and reinvigorated with a heartless, soulless form. I had no recollection of my old lives, no sense of what great beasts had sired me nor what my purpose was in regaining breath. I could feel it, though, a fantastic passion beginning to burn inside me as bright as the black sun that rose over the endless dark waters that licked at my feet like the tongue of a great behemoth.

I laid there, breathing and feeling the horrors that were still to come at my hands. I could see my own eyes reflecting back from the dark sky. A sinful glee in the tortured, wrinkled skin that formed the face of the body I was thrust into by whatever great force had drawn me to be. I rolled over onto my elbows and dragged myself further from the coast. The muscles of my legs began to ease toward movement and soon I crawled forth as a beast on four limbs. I was overcome with a savagery and wicked desire to consume the life of this land, and all who inhabit it.

But, again, I do not know why nor how I came to be. Only that I Am. With no direction home, and only a long road before me, I crawled into the morning sun along the warming pavement that scratched at my skin and broke fingernails. Wet clothes turned to ruin and absorbed the filth of the ground. I bled and groaned and yet nothing within me said to stop – only to go forward toward light in the dead end.

“THE DAILY NEWS” by Silver

Silver had members of the community coming back again and again to see the newest editions of The Daily News as they were released! With over 25 unique articles published, there is no shortage of news to catch up on to stay in the loop. Join our discord to check out the thread of all of Silver’s newspapers!

STREAMERS OF 2023

We want to give a special shout out to our DUG streamers! These people put themselves out there to show off the DayzUnderground server and community to help us reach and draw in new players. Check out and follow the broadcasts listed below!

EVENTS OF 2023

A big thanks to our loyal players for creating in-game events that our community can take part in. Whether it ends in explosions, bloodshed, or a victorious ride into the sunset; we appreciate the effort you all have put in to making these experiences possible. Lets kick off the list of last year’s events with an invitation to our next one – FIGHT NIGHT hosted by the Spades Motorcycle Club! Check out the invitation below for details and prizes!

“The Duel” by Justice and Vadim

Video by Legit-POP

“FIGHT NIGHT” by the Spades Motorcycle Club

“Night of Absolution Sacrifice Event” by Dark Angels

“End of the World – Club Night” by the Bronx Family & SMC

“Save The Coast Walk-a-Thon” by Boys of Brenna

“Community Theatre – Spring Play” by Cannery Row

“Rebuild the Overlook” by The Overlook

“DUGGIE Awards” by DayzUnderground

DUGGIE Trophy by Zonk

Warboy Wednesdays by Dark as Midnight
Merriest Part of the Summer by Merry Men
Raffles by 506th
Treasure Hunts by Bedtime
DUG Community Meetings
and many more!

Thanks For Reading!

If you’re interested in staying up to date with us and our community be sure to join our Discord and apply to join our Whitelist and start viewing hundreds of stories, artwork and videos from our Community via our private Subreddit.