Shame I won't see most of these graphical changes, but hard changes like the infrared will be nice.
Behold, fellow Stalkers - I have unleashed the true horror from my vaults:
OFFICIAL STALKER NOVELS (translations)!
In my possession are ten of them. Of them, two are compilations of stories.
So, after me and Slendy discussed them, he became interested in one short one. It was only 13 pages long, so I went on an translated it. Didn't take too long, but I am not sure if my translation is of true quality. None the less, it's the idea that counts.
If you guys are interested enough, I can provide a short summary of each short story and give you guys the choice of the next translation.
Also, did I mention how hilariously bad some of those can be? This is one of the better ones.
[QUOTE]
[B]Author: MAD_DOG [SW][/B]
[B]Difficult Target for Efreitor Kerdybaev[/B]
[I]Translated by Gufu[/I]
Copyright belongs to the author(s) of the piece, it's publishers, and owners of the subject-related copyrights. No infringement intended. The translation is intended for non-profit purposes.
Private Sergey Kolesnikov was not a lucky man. He never was, and the trail of misfortunes that followed him, begun at birth. The more knowledgeable would claim that it begun even earlier. Many remember that when Sergey's mother was lying in the local hospital with a diagnosis of a “Chronic Pregnancy” (nurse has misheard the doctor's words when she was writing the patient's card), the X-Ray machine in the next room over has exploded, greatly injuring the janitor as well as giving everyone else in the room a generous dose of radiation. Sergey's mother died from blood loss shortly after his birth. Grandmother Nura used to tell the story of the baby's baptism, when the drunk priest almost managed to drown the infant twice, possibly ending Sergey's story preemptively (and as some would say, before he could cause any more damage). As the priest continuously lost his grip on the child, he continuously swore and swayed in his inebriated state. Finally, at the end of the event, angry and tired, the priest has exclaimed his judgment of the child, unknowingly prophesying it's future:
- The child of yours is unlucky one. Hard to hold, too... Ain't gonna have no good in him. Amen.
He ended his statement with a loud hiccup.
From that day on, the village of Chernoknizhkino [I](Editor's Note: The Village's name translated to “The Place of Books of Dark Arts” or “Place of Black (Evil) Books”, surely a lovely place)[/I] saw Kolesnikov as worthless, useless, and above all – unlucky. It was claimed that anywhere where Sergey went, the bad luck was to follow. The misfortunes would either affect him or those who ended up with him, be it by accident or by the accident of being too drunk to realize the danger they were in. For some time, Sergey had a nemesis in the form of Bull Hahal – an animal that was generally uncaring for anything besides cows and black bread. But when Sergey was anywhere near, Hahal would always give chase and gore the child. He has masterfully succeeded in doing so for three time, at one time, breaking through the glass window of the local village store and the line of people, in order to reach Sergey's behind, which it victoriously gored. Afterward, the bull lost any and all interest in Sergey and begun consuming the bakery items located on the store's counter, left there by their terrified and fleeing owner.
A few curses have been heard from within the trampled line of people, mostly uninjured but allocated evenly across the floor of the store. In all of the exclamations, the target of blame was not the animal, but Sergey.
The corridas continued until the forth one, when the interactions between Sergey Ivanovich Kolesnikov and Hahal have ended for the later, due to the fatal incident: During the chase, Sergey put an electric generator between himself and the bull, who have not noticed that the door inside has not been closed. The collision ended the life of the animal as well as generator's functionality, causing the village to lose power for a few days, spoiling all the stored milk at the local farm, and giving the local electrician Stulikov a reason to get black-out drunk (in a fitting imitation of his sphere of work).
The people tried to stay away from Sergey. They locked the doors, crossed to the other side of the road if they saw him, and hid from him in bushes (if they were lucky to find any before he found them). During the harvest, if someone had to ride with Sergey in the tractor's trailer, someone would always end up falling off it. If that didn't happen, then the tractor itself would break down in the middle of the road or it would end up stuck in the mud. At one time, the wheel of the tractor has flew off the axle, bounced into the closest chicken coop, and killed four hens alongside the cock, who was trying to save his harem from the murderous interloper.
Finally, Sergey ended up all alone, both culturally and in terms of social contact, a fact that was very pronounced, since he became an orphan at a young age. His mother, died giving birth to him, while his father, known by his nickname of “Idiot”, drowned himself in alcohol, and slightly later, in the local river. None of the Sergey's previous brothers and sisters have all died before reaching an age of one, and so Sergey only knew them by the small hill at the local graveyard. Sergey lived at his aunt's home, where she fed him just enough for him to keep out of her house for most of the day. Most of the village could barely wait until the “11th Plague” would finally be conscripted, an event everyone expected to be fatal to Sergey. Either he would die to Dedovshhina [I](Editor's Note: Military Bullying)[/I], get crushed by the tracks of a runaway T-72, or he would be thrown overboard of a Torpedo Boat “Sober”, by an ocean wave. A parachute failing to open was not only a possible outcome, but one that was hoped for. And at it's worst, if Sergey did survive, he might end up taking up army as a career choice, and to everyone's relief, he would not be seen again.
But one of the men ended up blurting out a comment that brought the worry towards the fate of humanity itself, into the hearts of many:
- Oh, yeah. They'll just make him the over-watch for the Big Red Button behind all the nukes. So everyone gets screwed over immediately.
A wave of depression has flown through the village.
When the young men were being sent off to the army, he was assigned to the Internal Troops, for which there has always been a great deal of dangerous work. This fact has brought much happiness to the citizenry, and even a good deal of discussion has begun, towards the production of gypsum statue of the Assignment Officer who assigned Sergey's position, showing him on a horseback, using the government papers to beat down the draft dodger, alongside giving the Officer the honorable citizenship in the village. First of all, everyone knew that Internal Troops don't get access to any shiny Red Buttons. And if they were lucky, Sergey would be stabbed to death by some murderer-recidivist, during his escape from the prison colony.
However, the celebrations were ended by the announcement that Sergey will be sent to guard the leftover of Chernobyl NPP, the entire village entered the state of panic. All talks of the statue were lost forever. The fact that Sergey was to serve his country next to the damaged NPP was even more terrifying than having him in the arm's reach of the Big Red Button. At least, in the case of nuclear bombardment, it would be possible to talk it over with the Americans or the Chinese: “Sorry guys, accidents happen, the cause of the misunderstanding was executed this morning”. At least they would understand and might not strike back. But here you have the horrifying Chernobyl. First explosion, second catastrophe, mutants, and growing zone that is rumored to be growing over the world.
The Villagers suddenly realized that the planet was overshadowed by doom beyond the understanding of the human mind. The terrors of Zone of Alienation would be joined by the terror from the outside, of no lesser potency and danger – Sergey Ivanovich Kolesnikov. Local policeman Uriev, who was known as the local oracle, as he had the deduction to catch the mass bootlegging operations throughout the region. Once before, he warned an old lady Chechetkina on the impending explosion of her still. And in two days, his claim was proven true – as the old drunk woman went to sleep, she forgot to turn off the apparatus. The result of the explosion was massive: Old woman's sauna was demolished, the neighbors lost all of their windows, and Uriev authority as a prophet became unquestioned. But on the day of Sergey's allocation, he had exclaimed a single, sinister prophesy:
- Await the third explosion!
And so, he begun his week-long depression-induced dive into the state of alcoholism. He was haunted by his inability to change the future, the impending doom of the world around him, and the realization of one's own mortality.
And finally, the day has arrived. Draftee Kolesnikov took a deep breath, took a sip of well-diluted tea, and went off to meet his end. And now he has been in the zone for six months. And every hour he is haunted by mistakes and misfortunes. Yesterday, it was announced that the Second Detachment will be sent to repair the first line of the ZADB (Zone of Alienation Defense Barrier). This announcement was caused by actions of no one else but Sergey, who has received the nickname of “Spike” [I](Editor's Note: Spike, as in railroad spike, or more correctly, a wooden stake used to keep some kind of small structure upright)[/I]. He, of all people, had to end up in front of the Supply Officer who was stalking the empty base, in search for the “volunteers” for such an assignment. And in addition, the weather was in it's usual, lovely state: constant light rain that would change into a small-scale hurricane when it felt like it. Not a very fun weather to be stuck in, with such a long-period assignment.
But alas, a private's opinion has no choice in such matter, and the detachment has left the base in a column formation, followed by a pandemonium of sounds, as numerous shovels, spades, picks, boxes of seismic detectors, and rolls of barbed wire all collided with each other, as the column slowly progressed towards the barriers of the Zone. The entirety of the column were quietly damning their own fate, as well as the private “Spike” who brought this task upon their shoulders. “Spike”, on the other hand, was wishing that he should have drowned as an infant, as he was feeling that he would do so today. In a dirty puddle, and not on his own volition. It was not difficult to realize the target of the hostility seen in the eyes of each soldier of the Second Detachment.
When the Second Detachment got to it's destination, they saw that the recent storm has brought down 30 meters of barrier, alongside a recon post with an infrared projector. Private Kolesnikov lifted his spade, and without looking, brought it deep into what he assumed to be the ground. In it's place he located the foot of Sergeant Kirichenko, who has let his guard down around for the moment, a mistake he quickly announced to the surrounding area in a very loud fashion. A terrified crow, sitting on the barbed wire of a broken barrier, has fallen to the ground, no doubt suffering from a heart attack caused by such an uproar, while most of the soldiers went to ground in the reaction to such a terrible sound, the origin of which they could not pinpoint to any earthly animal. If it was not for the hardened Soviet military boots and the famous quality of (also Soviet) digging tools, then the fingers of Sergeant Kirichenko and Sergeant Kirichenko himself, would not be a singular organism.
After jumping on his leg for a few minutes loudly exclaiming his knowledge of the letter A, Kirichenko suddenly remembered the rest of the words, which he put in immediate use, as he was quickly advancing towards the cause of his solo musical number. “Spike” realized that finally, the expected end to his unexpected life was about to arrive. Alongside that particular realization, he also decided that he would not simply accept it.
Sergeant, has been quickly closing the distance with a sinister limp. In his anger, he appeared a lot like the long-dead bull Hahal. Each of the Sergeant's fists were about the size of his target's head. In his eyes, one could see the objective of his epic task: To rid the world from the influence from the grand evil, the role of which was taken by the first-year Private Kolesnikov S.I.
“Spike” instinctively begun to move backwards. Someone shouted and waved their hands at him, but he did not understand what they tried to say nor did he see anything around him. Even Sergeant Kirichenko stopped his advance and the monologue that proved the true richness of the Slavic languages. But Sergey continued to fall back. He returned to his senses when he ran into a sign. He turned around and read the five letters that were inscribed on it: “Mines”. It appears that the constant line of misfortunes that disguised itself as his life was to end with a show of fireworks. Perhaps November 13th will be seen as a holiday in the village of Chernoknizhkino.
But all of this was in the past. There was no such man as Private Kolesnikov – there was, however, deserter Kolesnikov. After standing for a few moments surrounded by anti-personnel death, Sergey stopped caring, turned around, and begun marching forward, right through the minefield, and towards the deadly Zone of Alienation. He walked on, without looking under his feet or behind himself, where he left his short, painful, and pointless life. He knew that one of the mines would kill him – and end the life of the unluckiest man in existence. But soon, he passed through the field, and he was still in one piece. Sergey angrily shouted at the imaginary weaver of fates:
Now you are just toying with me!
And at that same moment small fountains of mud begun rising all around his feet. Sergey begun observing them with great interest, seeing each and every large caliber bullet landed into the surrounding puddles, covering him from head to toe in mud. He held no fear in his mind, as everything around him felt like a dream. A very scary, but a very interesting dream.
Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. Sergey turned around and saw that the soldier on top of the guard tower was unsuccessfully trying to unjam the smoking machine-gun. The soldier was Efreitor Kardybaev, who didn't really care whom he had to shoot at, be it some mutant or his own brother. First of all, anyone could the enemy – Controller was in equal capability of acquiring control over the mind of a Private or a General (though, Kardybaev had his doubts against the possible possession of Head of Kitchen, Warrant Officer Pasjuk – he was a man that truly lacked the brains to take control of). Secondly, for liquidation of a break-through, one could get a relief from the military duty. Finally, much alike any true Dzhigit, Kedybaev really wanted to get the most use out of his heavy KPV (Krupnyj Pulemet Vladimirova – Vladimirov' Big Machine-gun).
Sergey happily shouted towards the busy machine-gunner.
- So, looks like your vacation is done for, huh? Looks like today, you aren't the lucky one either.
An echo from within the close by replied with “-L-u-c-k-y-”. Another echo, this time from the concrete Perimeter Wall replied with “-D-o-n-e-f-o-r-”. To the later, Sergey loudly and seriously replied:
Well, let's see who here is done for.
Sergey suddenly remembered everything he had to go through on the outside. All of the misfortunes and all of the uncomfortable situations. All of the misunderstandings and all of the hate, which was directed towards him. All, as if he was a leper. He remembered it all, and suddenly he forgot it, just as if it was all little more than a bad joke. He put up the collar of his greatcoat, rested the spade on his shoulder, and begun marching towards the Zone, where on the horizon he could see the silhouette of the sarcophagus and purple lightning bolts.
Nobody knows why Zone greeted Kolesnikov with the open arms. He practically walked through the Zone without running into any mutants. Only once some rats tried to get closer to him, but once they noticed that he was all alone, they assumed that something was off, and decided to ignore Kolesnikov. He himself had absolutely no idea how he found the path he was following, the path that did not intersect or ended in any of the Zone's dangerous and deadly anomalies. And when the path lead him into the Ecologist's Camp, no one was expecting him there, either.
Dozen or so people in shiny Environmental Protection Suits were slowly traversing across an open field, searching for something with metal detectors and eyes glued to the ground. They were certainly looking for something important, and were so occupied, that they have not noticed the sudden appearance of the tall soldier in a dirt-covered uniform, who simply matched in, like he was on a military parade, rather than in the middle of the Zone. The soldier walked up to one of the scientists and greeted him:
- How's it going, good sir?
“Good sir”, was startled by the sudden interaction, jumped up and froze in place. Even through the smoky plastic vizor of the suit, one could see the wide-open mouth and startled look in the eyes. Not bothered by the lack of answers, Sergey Ivanovich continued to inquire:
- What'cha looking for?
The scientist could only respond in short words,
- We... are... erm... uh...
Sergey was not a slow fellow, though:
- Ah, I understand – Top Secret. But hey, maybe I can help! I've got a spade with me – see?
The scientist was staring at the spade, as if it wasn't just a spade, but as if it was a piece of a Flying Saucer. Without taking his eye off the spade, Docent of Radio-Physics Faculty Filippov begun answering in a form that was more fitting for an excuse for the incredibly-strict supervisor.
- We, ah... not at fault here. We lost. Erm. Detector. Yeah, lost it. We buried it here two weeks ago. To check for blowouts. And then blowout happened. And everyone who was burying it, died. Everyone. Died two days ago. And we can't find it. It's uhm... orange.
The scientists finished his nervously told story and tried to scratch his own head through the helmet of his suit. That didn't work out.
- Ah!
Soldier walked for a few meters to the side, and started digging. In a minute, he brought out an orange sphere the size of a soccer ball.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed the scientists as they saw the soldier lift the “Black Box” of orange color out of a shallow hole.
“Holy shit!” thought the Stalker Koshak, who was hiding in the bushes on the other side of the field, where he was entertaining himself through observation of scientists' torment.
“Holy Mother of Mercy!” thought American Spy John R. Smith who was observing the scientists from the other side of the field from both the scientists and Koshak. He thought for a bit, and then begun quickly taking pictures of both the Orange Ball and the soldier who found it.
Kolesnikov was approached by the senior Professor and the leader of the group:
- How did you do it?
Kolesnikov didn't really had an answer, but he had to say something:
- Probably got lucky. You know, back in the village, we often dug for potatoes... maybe I learned there? Speaking of potatoes, when's dinner? I have been walking about this place ever since I misplaced my patrol. I kinda got lost.
Before the scientists could answer, a large, camouflaged figure, armed to it's teeth entered the conversation:
- And what kind of an idiot gave you a spade instead of a rifle for a patrol duty?
Luckily for Sergey, the scientists were too busy celebrating the fact that they found the detector, so no further such questions were asked. Sergey was brought to the camp and fed warm canned food. This provided sufficient bond of trust between him and the scientists, to whom he told his life's story, leaving out the morning adventures, of course. After dinner, Sergey took a nap in the closest tent he could find, after the scientists got readings off him using some kind of fancy apparatus. Before falling asleep, Sergey begun wondering if he should take off his boots to let the socks dry off, but after considering the fact that the scientists were probably not used to the usual smells from the barracks, he decided against it. And so he fell asleep on a air mattress, using his greatcoat as a blanket, and with the spade in his arms.
He didn't get to sleep much, though – later that evening, some man with a bunch of papers in his hands run into the tent. In his eyes was pure terror. He then proceeded to communicate with Professor using many scientific words Sergey did not understand. In summary, it appears that judging by the “Growth Graph” found within the detector found by Sergey, in no less than an hour, some sort of “Local Blowout” was about to happen, and in general, it would be a great idea to get the hell out of here to the north. The man pointed above Sergey's head when he mentioned the words “to the north”, and Sergey automatically looked in that direction, seeing nothing more than the wall of the tent.
Suddenly, everyone in the camp begun to run around and pick up anything they can take with them, as if they were a bunch of cockroaches which realized that they are about to come under a chemical attack. Professor shouted to Sergey to get dressed and to run towards the direction of the woods for the next three kilometers, and disappeared into the night. To this, Sergey rose slightly from the mattress and produced a simple answer he came up while half asleep:
- Well, get the hell out then, if you need to, with your Zones and Blowouts.
And immediately afterward, he fell back asleep with no sounds to disturb him, besides the constant drone of the filter and ventilation system installed in the tent.
Closer to the midday, a few bolts were thrown onto the grassy field. The scientists were returning to their camp, or whatever they expected to be left of it. Surprisingly, everyone was still alive, including the senior professor, who probably was the least physically capable of the group. One of the assistants almost ended up suffocating in her suit, however Filippov arrived on the scene in time to take off her helmet and to warn her on the importance of changing suit's air filters. But in summary, the night passed without any human casualties.
When the group saw the area where the previous evening they had so much fun with the metal detectors, they beheld a horrible sight. The small swamp where numerous little endemic creatures used to live – six-legged mutated toads – has managed to boil away. The poor amphibians, which gave no one rest during the nights of their endless concerts, were lying all around in generally terrible and artful shapes and forms, all of them baked alive. Somewhere in the distance, the quarter of burned, hoofed legs were sticking out of the ground. The trees did not just lose their leaves, but much of their bark was burned off as well, with most of the branches suffering multiple burns.
But this picture would not be complete without the ruins of the research camp. Radio antenna that was previously aimed toward East, now pointed upward, as if it was trying to contact some civilization in the endless space, or at least the astronauts stuck in orbit above the Zone. The only area not destroyed, or even affected in any way, shape, or form, was the Professor's tent. Once everyone piled up inside, to look at this wonder, they noticed a small letter folded on top of the air mattress. After the Professor read it, he started to talk:
- This kid. He saved our lives, after all! If he didn't appear out of nowhere, yesterday, we wouldn't have found the detector. And then we would all have died tonight, right here, without waking up, even.
Professor took off his helmet and begun smoking his pipe, continuing his monologue:
- Looks like in the Zone, where it seems like everyone is unlucky, the powerful pathological misfortune experienced by Sergey through most of his life, has changed it's polarity, becoming absolute luck. Shame that the kid didn't understand that...
Professor gave the letter to Filippov and left the tent. Filippov read the letter out loud:
[I] “Greetings Academic Semen Borisovich. This letter was written by the deserter Sergey Ivanovich Kolesnikov. If you are reading this letter, that means that you are alive. If you are not reading this, then you must know that you died due to my fault. Everywhere I go I bring misfortune. I guess that's my terrible destiny – to bring people and animals pain and suffering. Thank you for the dinner and for letting me stay around for a bit. And thanks to Filippov and everyone else who survived, if they did. I am not sure that they are, since when I left the tent today, everything around me was destroyed. Please don't think that I am doing this intentionally – it always just ends up like that. I was just born this way, even rats are afraid of me and run away. And right now, I am just going somewhere, and msot importantly – I'll live alone. I've seen the abandoned house in the forest behind the hill. I'll fix the fence and the roof. Plant the potatoes and onions. There is even a well there. And an apple tree. Write me if you can. Especially if you know if there is some wild cattle in the area, like a pig or a cow. I'd take them. I heard that there are dogs in the area, so I would also take a puppy. It's rather scary and lonely to live here just by myself. Also, I did take the supply bag, axe, knife, and the canned food you left behind. I'll give them back to you. I promise. As for now, good bye. With great respect, private Sergej Ivanovich Klesnikov.”[/I]
[/QUOTE]
[QUOTE=gufu;40708612]Behold, fellow Stalkers - I have unleashed the true horror from my vaults:
OFFICIAL STALKER NOVELS (translations)!
In my possession are ten of them. Of them, two are compilations of stories.
So, after me and Slendy discussed them, he became interested in one short one. It was only 13 pages long, so I went on an translated it. Didn't take too long, but I am not sure if my translation is of true quality. None the less, it's the idea that counts.
If you guys are interested enough, I can provide a short summary of each short story and give you guys the choice of the next translation.
Also, did I mention how hilariously bad some of those can be? This is one of the better ones.[/QUOTE]
You know, this isn't that terrible, apart from the godawful translation. It has that absurdist Helleresqe vibe, I'm guessing that if someone was to write a version of Catch 22 set in the Zone, this'd fit right in.
[QUOTE=M.Ciaster;40709125]You know, this isn't that terrible,[B] apart from the godawful translation[/B]. It has that absurdist Helleresqe vibe, I'm guessing that if someone was to write a version of Catch 22 set in the Zone, this'd fit right in.[/QUOTE]
;_;
[QUOTE=gufu;40709140];_;[/QUOTE]
Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, translating is hard, especially translating from Slavic languages to English.
[QUOTE=M.Ciaster;40709184]Hey, don't be so hard on yourself, translating is hard, especially translating from Slavic languages to English.[/QUOTE]
To be honest, I just wish I had an editor to help me with this. Switching between Russian/American linguistic and cultural thought pattern is difficult.
[QUOTE=gufu;40709197]To be honest, I just wish I had an editor to help me with this. Switching between Russian/American linguistic and cultural thought pattern is difficult.[/QUOTE]
Yeah, that's true. Hell, I'm Polish, so you would've thought I wouldn't have problems with understanding Russians, and yet sometimes I still do. (culture wise, not language wise- I don't speak Russian)
[QUOTE=Araknid;40707939][URL="http://www.moddb.com/mods/old-good-stalker-evolution/news/ogse-0693-new-graphics-features-part-2"]Part Two[/URL][/QUOTE]
My shaders have always had custom shadow map resolution settings. Als that thermal vision is really impressive to get into the game.
[QUOTE=Cutthecrap;40707207]EDIT: Beacon, I read in the OGSE ModDB page that once they finished with the mod, they would move onto the Clear Sky engine. I asked Yuri-forgothisname why and he answered that Clear Sky was the best X-Ray version, with SoC being the middle and CoP having many features cut out. Is that true? And if true, what would be those "features"?[/QUOTE]
Hm, I would say CoP is definitely the best X-Ray version. It's Clear Sky's but improved.
[QUOTE=Beacon;40709959]Hm, I would say CoP is definitely the best X-Ray version. It's Clear Sky's but improved.[/QUOTE]
Except the soup terrain
[QUOTE=K1ngo64;40709977]Except the soup terrain[/QUOTE]
What's that? Is it the cause for the clunky movements in CoP?
[QUOTE=rikimaru6811;40710032]What's that? Is it the cause for the clunky movements in CoP?[/QUOTE]
No, the ugly as fuck ground textures.
I don't think that's the fault of the engine though
No, it's just the shitty ground textures. Plus, having grass-distance that low is a pain but it's change-able now.
It's a major bummer when you really get into STALKER and the quests stop updating.
Paravin can use his old account again.
oh yeah it's garry's birthday
Got my internet back after 2 months of hiatus, did anything happen in the world of STALKER or Metro or is it the same as usual?
Last Light is out.
[QUOTE=Beacon;40711140]Last Light is out.[/QUOTE]
Oh shit, is it good?
[QUOTE=PaChIrA;40711175]Oh shit, is it good?[/QUOTE]
I found it extremely boring and gunplay is a total crap.
But it's just for me. Others seems to be enjoying it.
But at least you can check the beauty of ruined Moscow.
[QUOTE=Beacon;40699216]yay paravin
in other news i ran my first 10k race for charity today! destroyed my PB by miles too![/QUOTE]
Congrats, I'll have to embrace Strelok's sanicness if I am to actually get into the Rapid Deployment Force. One part of the entry exam is running at least 2800 meters in 12 minutes. Easy, but the optimal/high score amount is 3200 meters in 12 minutes.
That's over 260 meters in one minute.
[editline]20th May 2013[/editline]
[QUOTE=PaChIrA;40711175]Oh shit, is it good?[/QUOTE]
Damn right it is, GOTY material to me.
[QUOTE=Hammer7;40711217]I found it extremely boring and gunplay is a total crap.
But it's just for me. Others seems to be enjoying it.
But at least you can check the beauty of ruined Moscow.[/QUOTE]
I would definitely disagree on both points.
[QUOTE=Hammer7;40711217]I found it extremely boring and gunplay is a total crap.
But it's just for me. Others seems to be enjoying it.
But at least you can check the beauty of ruined Moscow.[/QUOTE]
I thought the gunplay was great, and the gameplay somewhat fun. I didn't go guns blazing, but sneaking around is a lot of fun, albeit pretty easy. I MUCH prefer Metro 2033, but Last Light is still decent.
[QUOTE=Hammer7;40711217]I found it extremely boring and gunplay is a total crap.
But it's just for me. Others seems to be enjoying it.
But at least you can check the beauty of ruined Moscow.[/QUOTE]
[url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvdf5n-zI14]You what[/url]
While everyone bashing me for not liking the game, I'd say post-apocalyptic artstyle and plot were the only 2 things holding me in game.
Stealth is just bad. I was standing near the enemy face [B]in Ranger mode[/B] and were like invisible for him because of "staying in dark".
And guns feels more like airsoft shit, unlike their cool look.
In the end I'll repeat myself again - "But it's just for me".
I'm not a fan of Metro.
[QUOTE=Hammer7;40712046]While everyone bashing me for not liking the game, I'd say post-apocalyptic artstyle and plot were the only 2 things holding me in game.
Stealth is just bad. I was standing near the enemy face in Ranger mode and were like invisible for him because of "staying in dark".
And guns feels more like airsoft shit, unlike their cool look.
In the end I'll repeat myself again - "But it's just for me".
I'm not a fan of Metro.[/QUOTE]
Play in Ranger Mode.
See how there are like, 2 faction war mods for CS? Which one is the best one? I used one a while ago I liked but I've forgotten which one it was.
[QUOTE=Hellborg 65;40712162]See how there are like, 2 faction war mods for CS? Which one is the best one? I used one a while ago I liked but I've forgotten which one it was.[/QUOTE]
TFW 3.8
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