A Farcry Movie...

[Art Blade]

DKM2, in this very topic we talked about flames, that includes insinuations, and I'd rather have appreciated not to mention that to you. Since you keep doing this particularly to me, in public, you leave me no choice but to comment to you now, in public.

This is me speaking both as a member as well as a moderator. I know you do a lot for OWG, but so do others.

I assure everyone that we will not tolerate any behaviour that harms other member's feelings. And I want to assure Phil-318 that his choice to publish here  is still just.

Please, everyone, help to maintain the friendly athmosphere that makes OWG special, despite and because of our different origins and thoughts.

So thanks to our Swedish buddy deadman, who helped with a nice and constructive reply in this topic. :)

[retiredgord]

We folks up here in Canada had switched to the metric system many, many moons ago.  Suffice to say it was a pain at first but as it became more into use in our everyday lives , I for one, got used to it.  In my w@&k in a manufacturing industy it was far more precise in measuring many things. It was costly and we got that served to us in slightly higher prices when it had been finished.
Oh well, it's a very diverse world now and what works in some countries may not w@&k everywhere.

[Phil-318]

With the combination of the late afternoon heat and the stifling humidity from the jungle, the inside of the adobe shelter felt as though it was the inside of a brick oven.  Michelle lie on the makeshift cot, drenched with her own sweat, trying to figure out how she got there.  She remembered driving her pickup truck along the road, but from there her memory draws a blank.  It had been about two hours since the dark haired man had left her in the "custody" of the Irishman.  She had since learned the Irishman's name was Frank, through his drunken ramblings and half-hearted advances.  The dark haired man's name still eluded her though.  Frank, after she had questioned him several times, had told her a name before he passed out.  However, she highly doubted that the man's name was, Mary.  At the moment though, it was of little importance.  Her leg was burning and throbbing, she could tell that she had been severely burned, and perhaps wounded by shrapnel, but the worst part was that her head was beyond pain.  The last time that she had felt, the pain in her head, was either when she had severe migraines in her youth or a few years ago in Chechnya.  There she was grazed across the back of her head by a sniper's bullet, hence the reason that her blond hair no longer grows longer than neck length.  She spent six months in seclusion in the care of a man, that to this day she still never got his name.  "Maybe I'll get this one's name before I put a new hole in his head," she thinks to herself.  "Of course, maybe a different outcome may be in the cards."  She let that thought sink in before injecting herself with another dose of Morphine and passing out.

The next checkpoint wasn't as simple as the first and Marty actually figured it wouldn't be.  He figured that he had most of the country scouted, however, this checkpoint had a new addition to it.  That being a sniper tower with a man holding a brand new Dragonov rifle.  This changed his approach to the checkpoint all together, with him only being able to move when the sniper wasn't looking in his direction.  Marty also had to take care that the now setting sun didn't reflect off of the optical scopes of his rifles.  Further complicating the approach was that the checkpoint was set in a grassy clearing, about 200 meters from the nearest cover of the jungle.  It normally wouldn't be a problem if he had a Dragonov as well, but with the Dart Rifle using CO2 cartridges that push darts that weigh less than four grams at less than 600 meters per second, this kind of shot was beyond difficult.  "I should have studied more Calculus", he thinks to himself.  But be it as it may, he needed to get past the checkpoint, one way or another.  It took him about two and a half hours to slowly crawl past the checkpoint and put a little bit of distance between himself and the sniper, but by 2200 hours that evening, he did it.  "Without even a second look", he prided to himself. 

Thirty minutes later, he was within 100 yards of the Undertaker's business and not a minute too soon either.  Because just as he started to relax, he spied three pickups heading towards his destination.  A quick look through the scope of his dart rifle confirmed the worst, three men in each pickup along with a mounted .30 caliber machine gun for each as well.  Using his best judgement, he estimated that he had about three minutes before the trucks arrived and three minutes to come up with a quick plan.  Just then he remembered the four unused improvised explosives, that Frank had built for the Railyard job, that he had packed in his rucksack.  Forty-five seconds later, Marty had cleared the distance between him and the roadway the trucks were traveling on, and with the darkness of the night as his camouflage, he rigged three of the explosives along the side of the road at a four meter spread.  With less than a minute to spare, he had perched himself on top of a nearby rock formation and readied his AR and the detonator.  A bead of sweat ran down his spine as he waited for the convoy to position itself on top of the trap.   When the convey was within 20 meters of the trap, it stopped in its tracks and Marty felt his heart momentarily stop.  "Did they see the bombs already?" he thought to himself and the next tedious seconds ticked by like weeks.  Finally, Marty using his AR's scope determined that several members of the convoy were conversing over a map, to confirm the location of the Undertaker.  When all were in agreeance, they loaded back into the pickups and continued down the road, towards there most certain doom.  As the front pickup reached the beginning of the trap, Marty quickly flipped the arming switch of  the detonator and rested his thumb on the "killswitch".  The pickups lumbered along the road without anyone of the personnel raising an alarm and when they were all in position, Marty pushed the button.  KAAAABBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!  It was one of the largest explosions that he had ever witnessed and it completely incinerated two of the pickups and shattered the rear-end of the other.  To say the least, Marty was very impressed.  "The f**ker knows how to make a bomb, that's for sure."

He waited another 20 minutes to see if anyone would come to investigate the chaos. "Surely the entire country must have heard this," he thought to himself, however, no one came.  When he was absolutely sure that there wasn't going to be any uninvited visitors, he made his was to the Undertaker's adobe hut and entered the residence.  Inside, he met with the proprietor and the hidden family that was underneath the floorboards.  Marty thought about making a sarcastic remark about that bit of irony, however he chose to keep it unsaid.  A quick exchange of documents and Marty was in business with more medication and he immediately pops one of the pills.  The family thanks him as he opens the door to leave and he replies with a simple nod.

***more to come

[PZ]

Very good, Phil-318 - reads almost like you have performed something similar in a FC2 mission...  :-X

Well, It's back to construction for me...  :'(

[Art Blade]

phil, reading your script is even better than a morning newspaper (I just got up very early 4:30am here)   :)

[Phil-318]

Prosper Kouassi sat in his office, contemplating the situation that had arisen in his country.  It had been a little over a week since the explosion at the rail-yard and since that day, the APR had suffered several more attacks.  The words from his lieutenants rang in his ears everyday; a checkpoint slaughter, the convey that he sent to a suspected traitor incinerated, and yet another bombing.  This time the bomb exploded in the fishing village of Shwasana, destroying a fuel depot that the APR used for their Swamp Boat patrols.  At first, he suspected that an Islamic extremist group had entered the country, much like Somalia in the early 90's.  However similar the tactics were, he dismissed that notion based upon the fact that the bombs weren't aimed at personnel.  Although at each bombing site, it was noted that the mercs that manned the posts were shot with precision weapons.  Kouassi deduced that the country was not a victim of Jihad, but of another type of insurgency. 

Greaves then helped himself into Kouassi's office and that slightly irritated him, however, Greaves provided him with invaluable intel.  Greaves informs him that they had another attack in the south near the Airfield.  The total casualties of the attack was seven men dead and a patrol disabled, however, one of their mercs survived the attack and provided his superiors with the description of the attacker.  He described that man as anywhere from 5'8" to 5' 10" tall with an average build.  The suspect had black hair and wore a black vest over a Harley Davidson t-shirt.  Kouassi asked Greaves if there was a report of accomplices with him, and Greaves said that there was accompanying sniper fire while the suspect attacked.  Kouassi, invigorated by the new information, ordered Greaves to locate any places that were away from patrols or occupied territory.  He tells him to eliminate any threats.  Before leaving the office, Greaves asks him, "What of the family that your men caught trying to escape from the Undertaker?"  Kouassi then informs him that the family, Father, Mother and children were shot by a firing squad the night before.  Greaves asks him for what reason and Kouassi tells him that they were declared traitors and that their punishment was death.  As Greaves turns to leave the office in disgust, Kouassi issues one final statement.  He tells Greaves, "If you question my decisions ever again, your corpse would be fed upon by the predators of the jungle."  Greaves nods his head in compliance and leaves the office.


It was early evening and the creatures of the jungle were playing their song.  Michelle awoke to the sound of metal rattling, across the room from her, to see the dark haired man sitting on a bench along the far wall.  Strewn across the floor in front of him were pieces to several guns that had been disassembled, and he was in the process of cleaning each piece.  Sitting up, she asks the man how long she had been out.  He tells her that she had been put into a chemically induced coma with injections of Morphine.  She asks him how and why and he explains to her that when he returned from his errand, she was running a fever due to infection to her wound.  To combat any harmful effects of the fever, he shot her up with an overdose of Morphine, so that her body would have time to combat the infection before any serious damage took place.  She looks down at her wound, then asks him what his name was and why he helped her.  He tells her that his name was Marty and that he didn't know why, but that the thought had crossed his mind to just leave her there on the side of the road to either bleed to death or burn alive. His better judgment got the better of him.  He then tells her that he had seen enough unnecessary death in the country. 

She asks him how long he has been in the country, and he replies, "three months".  She asks why he's there and he tells her that he was sent to the country to track and kill an arms dealer who goes by the name, "The Jackal".  He asks her if she is familiar with the name, and she honestly answers him with a "no".  He continues to tell her about "The Jackal" and how he came into business via the fall of communism in the Soviet Union.  He explains that since there was discord in the government, the nation's arms supply went completely unchecked.  He asks her if she had ever seen the movie "Lord of War" and she shakes her head no.  He further explains to her that before the fall of communism, the world primarily received their weapons via foreign occupations.  That the occupying nations, in order to save money, would leave their used weapons behind.  They figured it would be cheaper to simply buy new weapons from the manufacturers than to break down an old weapon and refurbish it and transport it home.  However, after the fall of communism, the flow of illegal arms spiked.  An AK-47 could be sold for a simple 100 dollars American and there were plenty of buyers to go around.  Anywhere and everywhere in the world, there is a conflict.  It is an unending cycle.

Michelle listened to Marty as he spoke until he asked her the same question of why she was there.  Not wanting to compromise herself, she told him a lie; however, she could tell that he didn't believe that she was simply a journalist.  "Never seen a journalist carry so much hardware" he replied sarcastically, referring to the small arsenal that she had when he found her.  She then asked him where the weapons were and he had to tell her the truth.  He told her that most of the weapons were severely damaged in the explosion that injured her.  Still a little fuzzy about the details of her ordeal, she asked him what had happened and was amazed to still be alive when he told her that she was a victim of a roadside bomb and an ensuing firefight between the factions.  While he was telling the details, he continued the maintenance of his equipment.  However, when he moved his rucksack, the small bottle of medication fell out of the side pouch.  Confused, she asked him what the meds were for and he told her about his contraction of Malaria within minutes of entering the country.  It was common knowledge that Malaria was an epidemic in Africa, so the news came as no surprise to her.  But now her anxiety was up as she asked herself if she had it as well.  Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Marty's satellite phone ringing and his conversation with Frank on the other line.  As he finished the conversation and hung up the phone, he stood up and asked her if she was able to move her leg at all.  She extended and relaxed her leg several times before replying that she could.  He then tossed her a new pair of OD green camouflage pants and told her to follow him.  She asked him where they were going and he simply told her, "to the bar".  Minutes later, after he had gathered up his AR, they were trudging through the jungle into the night.

[Art Blade]

Especially the part of those faction leaders is really dark, as well as the descriptions of guard post/patrols incidents... compared to how we treat our "Datsun Dummies" and laugh about starting "merc wars"... a different story entirely. I never took the game seriously, so it is interesting to read about your version of the FarCry world. There is enough material that is begging for a part in your play, I was particularly thinking of those cell tower assassination missions :)

[Phil-318]

They'll be worked in, I promise.

[Art Blade]

cool...  :-X

something that doesn't fit in your play, but simply made me chuckle, is "losing cars" due to respawn/flush. I was thinking of Frank, starting to curse while looking over his shoulder and somehow going "God damnit, I swear I parked my car just there!"  ;D

[TheFishlord]

Dang this is awesome man. I know you said no movie - but I would most definetely pay for this to get up on the big screen. Or at least as a trilogy of books. Keep it coming.

[Phil-318]

Gentlemen (and ladies if they're here), I stand very much corrected.  According to Wikipedia.org, there is a Farcry movie that has already been produced.  Although it is based upon the Instincts portion of the timeline, the fact still remains, I was wrong.  There is a Farcry movie.  Unfortunately for me, it was only marketed to Germany, Canada, and the Netherlands.  I know that it has absolutely no bearing on the story that I have been writing, however, I would rather stand corrected on a statement that I made from the beginning.  Makes me feel better. 

[PZ]

Thanks Phil-318, but it makes no difference to us - we just enjoy the plot of what you've written so far!  :-X

PS: it would have been nice to see a Far Cry movie - was it based on FC1 or FC2?

[JRD]

PS: it would have been nice to see a Far Cry movie - was it based on FC1 or FC2?

Although it is based upon the Instincts portion of the timeline,

I believe Instincts was an extension pack for the original FC1... never played that one though, only the original

[Phil-318]

It was based on the "mutant island" storyline.  And the movie, reportedly did terrible in theaters.

[Art Blade]

It was with Til Schweiger being the star, but the film got so so bad critics I didn't touch it, maybe because I like the game and don't want to spoil the FC feeling with a crap film.

Go on with yours, phil-318, I think you have already a good fan base here :)  :-X

[Phil-318]

You know, I just got done watching the fanfilm "Return of the Ghostbusters" a bit ago.  (www.returnoftheghostbusters.com)  Watch it if you are a fan.  But anyways back on topic, it got me to thinking, "what if i just took my story and made my own movie?"  According to imdb.com and the film's website, it was shot with a DV camera and a total...er...let me repeat that TOTAL!!! of $3000 American spent.  My only problem is that there is not Jungle in the U.S. :'(

[Art Blade]

haha! 3,000 bucks! I wonder how they got Til Schweiger to sign up. Well, as for American Jungles... how about a greenhouse or some zoo?  :)

[PZ]

Parts of Southern California would be excellent for the Savannah part of FC2 - the Wild Animal Park near San Diego looks like a spot I recall in FC2.

[spaceboy]

Go for it Phil!  The vision and the writing has been wonderful, I think the hardest part would be getting people who could act.  Just leave in some narration maybe because it'll help set the tone.  Seriously though - for a jungle, pick a forest preserve.... you're done (well except for any driving you'd want to do)

[JRD]

When its finished, I can w@&k the spanish / portuguese subtitles for the south american retail version... you can't miss the latin market these days  ;)

Won't charge for that, only send me an invitation to the premiere  ;D ;D ;D

[Phil-318]

Sorry.  Took a couple days to recharge.  There will be a new installment coming soon

[Phil-318]

They spent an hour of continuous walking before they reached the nearby river.  Michelle kept herself on alert, listening to the concert of birds and animals and half expecting a predator to pounce on them.  But she could see that the route they were taking was a well worn path, and no doubt a primary route that Marty would take.  She asked him, as they reached the bank of the river, were exactly they were going.  He replied to her that they were heading to a place called Mike's to meet a friend of his.  She asked him why they weren't taking a vehicle and he told her that she could go ahead and back-track to the road, if she wanted.  But she would be lucky to get past any of the patrols that inhabit the area.  Realizing that Marty had a point, and seemed to know what he was doing, she loaded into an awaiting swamp boat without any further questions. 

The ride along the river was uneventful.  In fact, if it wasn't for the moon, the darkness of night would have been impossible to navigate.  However, the moonlight proved not only to be an excellent source of light, but illuminated the river and its surroundings in a beautiful fashion.  While the boat slowly pushed its way along the river, it past between two towering cliff faces that were lit so indescribably.  Michelle took a moment to take in all the sights and thought how breathtaking the country really was and how much of it had been destroyed due to this war.  She thought back to her time in Chechnya and realized that she had arrived there at a time where that war had completely ravaged the landscape.  But, through word of mouth from the locals, the country had once been breathtaking in its own right.  She was suddenly struck with feelings of sadness and a bit of remorse to know that soon the paradise that she was seeing would soon be pockmarked with carnage and corpses.  "What a terrible world we are living in," she thought to herself.  She turned to Marty and asked him if the rest of the country looked like this and he replied "Its better".  She asked him what he meant by that and he told her about a safehouse, that he and Frank had established, in Bowa-Seko that overlooks a very large lake.  He went on to describe the various periods of the day, where the sun would bring out the colors of the lake and the surrounding jungle.  He described the sight as a postcard shot.  She asked him why he wasn't there rather here and he told her that the majority of the fighting was here in Leboa-Sako.  She then tried to catch him in his own contradiction and said that she thought he was just there to find "The Jackal".  He quickly corrected her and told her that he wouldn't be able to find the "The Jackal" without information from either of the factions.  Before she could go any further in her questioning, he powered down the boats propeller engine and stated, "We're here."

They had pulled into a small cove, away from the main river that had several buildings dotting the shoreline.  None of the buildings had any interior lights on; however, she soon learned that it was because all the windows were boarded up.  Marty took her to the nearest building and opened the door.  Inside there were several individuals either standing or sitting at tables.  All were conversing with each other, but she couldn't hear their words due to them being spoken so softly.  She asked Marty why everyone was being so quiet and he explained to her that the APR or the UFLL only know these places to be abandoned.  He tells her that the owner "Mike" had left the country several months before the conflict broke out and that the buildings were left.  He pointed to the windows and acknowledged that not only were they boarded up, but they had bits of mud caked between the cracks to prevent light from escaping.  Just then, Frank spotted them from across the room and slowly stumbled his way towards them.  Leaning on Marty, he tells him that he is just in time for the party.  Marty, noticing the strong odor of bourbon on Frank's breath, gives a small laugh and tells him that he believes that Frank's party is already over.  Frank, in a slurred tone of voice, tells Marty, "Oh F**k off, I'm as fit as a fiddle" before slumping down into a chair.  Marty then turns to Michelle and tells her, "looks like we need to take him with us when we leave."  Michelle asks why he couldn't stay there and Marty tells her that they only come to the bar for a few hours of the night, and that either of the factions perform a search every day.  She asks him if he is worried that they may make a surprise visit at night and he replies that there is only one road leading to the bar and that they will get an early warning. 

Marty then notices a black man with glasses and a white button-down shirt sitting across the room from him.  He motions for Michelle to follow him and they walk over and sit down with the man.  The man identifies himself to Michelle as Reuben and offers his hand to her as further greeting.  He then turns to Marty and tells him that he has heard of several massive explosions and unexplained deaths across Leboa-Sako and asks Marty about them.  Marty, with a slight smirk, tells him that he has heard nothing about them and asks what the factions are saying about them.  Reuben explains to him that Kouassi has ordered that the "outsiders" be found and punished and that he has offered conflict diamonds to anyone who helps.  He also tells Marty that Greaves had contacted a mercenary to assassinate Dr. Gakumba, but that the merc has either not responded or is still outstanding.  Marty quickly looks at Michelle and asks her if she knows anything about it and she says, "No."  Reuben then informs Marty of a UN Special Forces unit, which dropped into the country the night before, which has come to take Kouassi and Dr. Gakumba captive along with several other high ranking faction members.  Marty tells Reuben, "Well, that'll be good, right?"  "No, it will plunge the country into deeper chaos" Reuben replies.  Marty shakes his head in disgust and reluctantly states to Reuben, "So someone will have to go to one of the factions and offer up services to stop the unit."  Reuben agrees, "Unfortunately, if you want to be successful in your search for "The Jackal", yes they must be stopped."  Marty takes a deep breath and lets it out in a disappointing sigh before getting up from the table and bidding Reuben thanks and good-bye.  He and Michelle walk towards the door and Marty picks the now passed out Frank up out of the chair.  Michelle asks, "now what?"  He replies, "Now we go back and get some sleep and in the morning, I go get a job."  She asks if she could accompany him and he tells her, no.   They leave the bar and load Frank into the boat, before heading back down the river to the safehouse. 

[Art Blade]

very fluent... nice, a page-turner, if it was a book  :) :-X <sigh> I just finished a 530something pages book by Joe Abercrombie, called best served cold - before that, I enjoyed his trilogy (each book similarly big) around a very dark and bloody story, yet some dark humour to spice it up, too. Nothing as good as a good read :)

[retiredgord]

Always a good read Phil-318.  One of mine is the Wheel of Time series by the late Robert Jordan, # 12, I think, unfinished and leaving fans in a real sad state.

[Art Blade]

unfinished and leaving fans in a real sad state.

Not exactly. I heard that Orson Scott Card (I love that author for the entire Ender's series, SF) has taken it upon him to finish the last book.