My current character has had a really crappy time of it.
Spawning in a kitchen with his bunkie, a greasefire took the house down. He
just only got out of the way of falling rubble and sprawled into the cold spring night.
Running to the house acroos the street he is chased by zoms who spotted the fire, and him, as he escaped into the basement. the basement was wothless, full of hemp and sewer rats. Without a flashlight even he runs off into the night, hearing zoms and rats clashing over the right to his flesh.
As he is running he realizes its snowing and he is freezing to death. Cold penalties start out negligable but get up to and beyond 75% speed loss, so he begins darting to and froo, making all the racket in the world until he finds a touring suit. In another house he finds an empty basement, which is full of chairs and booze and little else. It is here he spends the day, burning wood in the bathroom and crafting whatever.
Sleeping for 2-3 hours before sunset, He goes topside and finds he can craft a wooden needle. He does so, spending time reinforcing his 2 messanger bags before taking off. He loots a grocery store and liquor store, only to find the sun coming up while in the lquor store. crafting a torch, he hides in their brakeroom and makes a wooden spear and cudgel, and a makeshift crowbar. He runs 2 city blocks in full daylight until he finds a motorbike and abandons his gains. The bike is only capable of safely going 28kmh du to a failing engine, and a random manhack actually keeps up with him.
Harried for a bit, and down to 1.5 bars of health on most bodyparts, he finds a flatbed with a yellow battery and alternator. Better than a breaking engine, frankly, and he transfers his gear over and escapes the city.
In the country, along a road leading out of town from a loose cluster of office buildings, our hero find a car with no major damage. While hsifting goods again he find a pack of 5 shirekers chasing after a squirrel coming his way. A fire and several shrieks later a worm tries to finish him off. Luckily our hero has bullwhip on him; a weapon that is more for stunning than killing. A horde of zombies comes into his view; looking for the shriekers; and with a sigh he packs his goods up. He has a single bottle of whiskey with him and several MREs, and enough gear to weld, but no experience with mechanics. The sun sets for his econd night and he must choose between a raid he desperately need and health he desperately needs. He might have enough booze for 1 more night, but . . .
It was one thing after another with this guy.