April 3rd at SOG field

[Steven Winkler]

Clear your calendars for Sunday April 3rd. SOG is planning another gathering/mini op. If you haven't been to this field you are missing out. It's one of, if not THE premier field in Maryland. Little details are available at the moment, but trust me, it's guaranteed to be an exciting day of combat. If you enjoy milsim style of games, in a heavily wooded area, this is the place to be. I'm talking 130 acres of hills, trenches, rivers, hills, streams, fallen trees, hills, buildings, bunkers, hills, and a giant triangle made of sticks.
I'll post more as the information is given.
Steve
Infinity Airsoft Team

[Steven Winkler]

The field is located in sparks, md. It's about 1:45 from elkton.
Steve

[Steven Winkler]

Re:April 3rd Spring Kick-OffIt's hard now to remember what the world was once like before the cataclysm. Some called it the apocalypse, some thought of it as a reckonong for all of man's sins. Whatever storied memory will call December 21 2012, the tale will never be told the same as once it would have. 
When the planets aligned, the largest solar event in mankind's history unfolded in a grisly spactacle of technological destruction. Electronics stopped working, power lines caught fire. Reactors melted, and mankind's technological age came to a sudden end. Those with knowledge of the reality of what happened told us that if it were not for the shadow of Mars between us and the sun, the atmosphere would have been stripped from the earth. I wonder now if iy might not have been better that way.
Mankind reacted in the same predictable and instinctive way that he has dealt with all events of history's chaos. When the fear and hardship became insurmountable, people began dying . Starvation, disease, and murder were all equal players in the greatest show of the century. 
Now mankind survives by clinging to the fragile tree of life in tribes and groups. Some of these tribes are benevolent, and seek to keep the fire of human life burning brightly. Others would just as soon see it go out. The most precious commodities known to the once proud race of man are now the leftovers of a time never to return. Canned food, bottled water, ammunition, all priceless. The tribes seek to gain these relics for use, for barter, and as plunder. 
More to follow. 

Copied from the DoW website. I'm still trying to pry info from SOG. 
Steve

[Steven Winkler]

For those that would like to go to this event, but do not want to drive that far, let me know. We can work something out. I have no problem renting a big ass van and dragging 6-7 people down with me. Hopefully by Friday, I can post an official event up, and get some RSVP's going.

Here us a link to their field rules. Their insurance requires them to be strict, but no more so than OA, or any other sanctioned event.
http://www.sogairsoft.org/jmain/index.php?option=com_content&vi...
Thanks,
Steve

[Warpig]

I'll be there. Being a former SOG Teammate, I can speak for them when I say they put a lot of hard work into each public event. Remember, they are portraying an image of their team with each event hosted, so they are going to do the best they can to make a good name for themselves. SOG events do not disappoint. The field is challenging and fun, and you'll get your moneys worth. If you're over 18, the good news is that you get to wear full-seal goggles instead of a full-face mask. Thats always a plus in the airsoft world if you ask me.

Hopefully I'll see some of you guys out there! Cant wait to sling some plastic!!

[Steven Winkler]

Really looking forward to the 3rd. I don't expect a whole lot of people coming from here, but itwould be great to bring some down to check out the field. I'll definatly be there.
Steve

[Steven Winkler]

My dear son Jonas:

I write this letter to you in the hope that you will find it many years from now and wonder how any of this could ever have been true. If you learn anything from the tattered pages which came from this broken old typewriter... a relic of an age passed, I pray that it is that hope still lives in all of us. I hope that you grow up strong, learn to read, and have a long peaceful life and a wonderful family. I hope that you take up this clanking piece of junk and make your own journals, so that your children can know how it was with you. But for now I must leave you and your mother to go to the meeting of the clans. I know very well that I may not return. If I don't come back I want you to know some things about where you came from.

Some days I can barely remember what life was like before the cataclysm. The world used to be an amazing place full of everyday miracles. Diseases could be cured, great distances traveled quickly, and any information about anything was available for free at a moment's notice. As with all good things we forgot how to appreciate it. Mankind grew complacent. We forgot about hard work. All that we knew was with the press of a button everything that we wanted could be delivered to our doorstep on time with a smile. We replaced thousands of years worth of knowledge and wisdom with circuits and data. We forgot about saving for the winter. We forgot how to live like animals. December 21, 2012 changed all that.

The scientists knew that there was something wrong. Rumors from NASA began to surface. They thought that there was a very big problem with the sun. No one paid attention however, because it seemed like everyone had a crazy theory of how the world would end. 2012 was just another Y2K; an excuse for a group of alarmists to make money from other slow witted people's gullability. Scientists and end of the world wierdos alike were labeled as crazy. Even the president made fun of the whole idea on television. At the time, it was thought of as a funny joke. It's funny that for once the crazy people were right. When the planets aligned on that fateful evening, the sun unleashed her full fury and the largest solar event in mankind's history unfolded in a grisly spactacle of technological destruction. Electronics of every kind stopped working all at once, power lines caught fire. Reactors melted, and mankind's technological age came to a sudden and spectacular end. Mankind of course reacted in the same predictable and instinctive way that he has dealt with all the events in history's charred remains. When the fear and hardship became insurmountable, people began dying . Starvation, disease, and murder were all equal players in the greatest show of the century. The strong subjugated the weak, the fearful became willing slaves to the fearless, and those with guns became those who made the rules. For a short while, law and order made a desperate stuggle to survive as the governing force, but in the end, chaos won.

Now many winters later, mankind survives by clinging to the fragile tree of life in tribes and clans. Some of these groups are benevolent, and seek to keep the fire of life burning brightly. Others, like the Badlanders, or raiders as we call them would just as soon see it go out. It's funny that as strong as the human race once was, the most precious commodities now known to the once proud species are just the leftovers of a time never to return. Canned and preserved food, bottled water, ammunition, all priceless. The clans seek to gain these relics for use, for barter, and as plunder. It is by this reason that I leave for the meeting of the clans this morning. The journey will be long; seven days walk to the Spark Forest. In that far away woodland is the town of Underwood.

Underwood is a strange place. Men of many tribes live, work and meet there. The law is very simple in the town of Underwood: No man may use a weapon in the village. In fact, it is illegal in Underwood even to have an ammo magazine in your gun. As has been tradition for several years now, every clan meeting is indeed a great opportunity for trade. It is unusual to have so many clans in one place at once, so traders come from far and wide. The Spark Forest is full of hidden treasures left over from better times. Traditionally, those clans who trade the most on market day gain the greatest respect, eat first, get their pick of the food and drink, and generally have bragging rights. This often leads to rival clans killing eachother off just to get the plunder. Caches of ammo, food and supplies can be found in abundance outside of town, but the Spark forest is a very dangerous place. Raiders wait at every turn to prey on and harass outsiders to the forest. Clans who may trade as friends inside Underwood suddenly turn on one another once outside the town limits. Many of the clans use the opportunity to scavenge that last little bit of saleable goodness from the forest so that they will have the most to trade at the great market.

The Spark forest itself though is perhaps what I fear the most on this trip. It is very hilly, and snares and pitfalls are all around. Because the land has been reclaimed by nature, it is rough and ragged terrain. Running from raiders is all but impossible in the wild landscape. The raiders know this land like the back of their hands, and often set up ambushes at natural choke points. The raiders seem to take special satisfaction in harassing passers by, and often use this technique to cause travelers to run; usually straight into an ambush. The raiders also use clever shell traps loaded with birdshot, set at eye level intended to destroy the eyes and faces of invaders into their domain. It is for this reason and others that all of us wear goggles whenever we are in the forest. I always fear that my eyes might get plucked out by thorns, or destroyed by a raider's scatter gun trap. After all, a blind man is soon a dead man.

I suppose that all this seems very dark; I don't mean it to be. I am just worried that this will be my last journal entry, and that you will never get to know me. You can't yet walk, and the only word that you have spoken has been "mama", but I know that you love me. I can see it in your mother's eyes. Farewell, Jonas. if all goes well, I will give these papers to you on your eighteenth birthday. If not, your mother will know the right time.

Dad.

[Matt G.]

Not gonna lie thats waaaay too much for my lazy ass to read lol

[Steven Winkler]

This is a chunk of backstory taken from SOG's website. This should be a VERY interesting OP. Definatly not your normal military style event. Multiple "tribes" roaming the land, scavenging the woods for items with a constant threat of attack. This is gonna be fun. Oh, and there will be a gentleman with a Gatling gun. Yes, I said Gatling gun.
Steve

[Matt G.]

Well that sounds interesting, should be alot of fun

[john munford jr]

Iam off that Sunday and definitely going to attend this op.

[Steven Winkler]

Anyone that is interested in attending this, please send me a PM. I need to get a head count by friday.

Thanks,

Steve

[Steven Winkler]

"Registration" has ended, but those that are going, here's a snipit of what to expect as far as gameplay. 

The format? It is the meeting of the clans! Clans from all around the wasteland come to meet in Underwood every year. They come to trade, they come to sort out differences, and mend fences. Inevitably though, fighting always occurs out in the Spark forest. There is a huge supply market in Underwood where clans can trade food, water and ammunition that they find out in the woods. Because the clan that brings the most to the market from the woods gets to eat first, they get the best food, and the most respect. Every year, clans end up fighting eachother for the spoils of war. Since there is a lot to carry, the clans normally don't lug it all around; they find a clever hiding spot and stash it there, contiue on, and try to get more stuff. By lunch, the clan that brings the greatest number of supply bags to the market wins the first half of the day, and accumulates points. During this time, it is of great importance that your clan does not get "killed" down to the last man. If this happens, the other clan can take your Clan Tag. Your Clan Tag is the symbol worn by the leader of your clan and it is very valuble. In fact, the value of the tag is probably greater at the market than any food that you will find. You also have to fight off raiders, who really could care less about your Clan Tag, but definitely want all your food. After lunch, there is a rumor that one of the clans is working with a person of great importance. The rumor goes that this VIP is trying to rally support from clans all around the wasteland, to mount a campaign for President of the US. Problem is that Presidents make rules, and the rumor says that this VIP want to tell some of the clans how to live. This is sure to cause a fight. Who knows, maybe even a war!

Thanks Mustang
Copied from http://www.sogairsoft.org/jmain/index.php?option=com_kunena&Ite...