Project Zomboid Giveaway Thread

[Connall]

I hope it is not to late. I saw this topic today and decided to make a picture of the old demo (I played the game a long time ago).

 

First I want to say, I really enjoyed the game, always thought about buying it, but other things kind of gotten in the way and I never had the money to spent it on the game. Alright, sure I had 15$ at some point, but we all have to save up money for next gen don't we? And it's not like I can spend everything on games...

 

Anyways, here is the picture:

*hoping that someone gets the joke*

 

Believe it or not, it took me half the day to do this. It is not even really finished. Normally I do not create illustration in this kind of style, but it was a funny expirience. Evidence that this picture belongs to me will be send by PM if necessary.

 

Sweet Entry, but I had to close Novembers entry. I can carry this over into the December giveaways, but I won't be announcing the first winner for at least two weeks. :/ think you can wait that long?

 

Since it's Monday, I can say that the Winner has been selected and will be revealed come this morning!

[Connall]

So the time is finally upon us. Our very first winner, exciting times!

 

After much deliberation, I was finally able to pick someone out of our pool of winners. So without further ado, the winner of the very first winner, tajmajaj.

 

tajmajaj wrote this story based on their experience with the demo:

 

My name is Bonnie Campbell, I'm 27 years old, and like it or not I’m going to die.

 

"I’ve taken a bite to my arm, so I’m infected. If I’m not, then I’m lucky…I think. It’s either die or die anyway, so perhaps I should be glad that it will end sooner rather than later. My family are dead. I killed my husband myself when he turned on me, and my parents who live over a hundred miles away won’t answer the phone. Are they dead, zeds, or merely fleeing like I am? Does it matter? Home isn’t home anymore, not with Paul’s blood staining the carpet, so I might as well come here. Twiggy’s. It was a fucking awful place that I always avoided, but now it was a safe haven from the zed hordes shuffling about outside. The place was clear. People must have jumped up in their panic when they heard of a descending apocalypse and left their drinks and card games where they stood. Half-filled bottles and long burnt-out cigarettes littered the bar and tables, and apart from me clutching my blood-splattered hammer, the place was dead.

 

Wrong wording, I thought. I didn’t want to die. There was – had been so much to live for. Perhaps it was time to admit that everything worth living for was gone now. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to be a survivor. My bite, sustained from the person I loved the most, was stark evidence of that. I had wrapped the wound in a torn piece of shirt, but it wasn’t enough. Medicine was what I needed, but a quick and slightly desperate search of the building yielded nothing useful. Water, food, power…that’s not what I wanted right now. Fear seized me. Those zeds were still outside. Maybe they could smell the blood on me, the hammer, everything I had touched? Would they even be interested in that sort of thing?

 

Overwhelmed, I rushed to the storage room and found, to my great relief, spare wood and nails. They must have had to repair this place at some point; the building itself was made of wood, after all. So I grabbed it. Within minutes I’d banged a couple of planks across the windows and door, but it wasn’t enough. I wiped my brow and jumped at the noises I heard outside. Screams. More survivors, perhaps, but I didn’t get my hopes up. No one could help them or me now. The windows still weren’t right. I felt too exposed, so I searched high and low until I was left no choice but to desecrate the pool tables upstairs. Using the pointed end of my hammer, I viciously ripped the base fabric off of the slate and hung them up at the windows by nailing them to the walls. It looked utterly ridiculous. I didn’t care.

 

Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I felt a feeling of relative safety wash over me. They couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see them, so surely I was safe? Hiding behind the bar, arms wrapped around me, I waited for nothing as the evening drew in, bringing with it the violent rumblings of an approaching storm. The wind picked up and the room grew increasingly dark until I could only make out the barest shadows of objects. I needed light, but not so much that it would attract unwanted attention. Some candles and an abandoned lighter were my saviours. With them I sat behind the bar again, watching the wax slide down the side of the candle and settle in a pool on the floor. Drowsiness began to creep up on me, but as I fell deeper into a doze I was abruptly awoken. 

 

I stopped; listened without taking a breath. The great gusts of wind slammed into the side of the house and rattled the wooden planks I’d used to barricade the windows, but to me these noises were amplified beyond what they really were. For all I knew or could bring myself to believe, something was clawing its way in. The slightest innocent movement of the window drapes as it caught a cold draught eventually drove me to restless pacing, despite the agony I was in. Somehow I convinced myself that I would live longer if I kept moving, that perhaps this was how I could stay alive. Keep the blood flowing and nothing would happen – no fever would take hold. But already my palms felt clammy and my brow began to drip. I’d ignored it before, putting it down to simple anxiety. Who wouldn’t be anxious in this situation, right?

 

But it was more than that, and I secretly knew it. Plant the seed of doubt in your mind and it will grow, regardless of whether you consciously feed it or not. All too soon the room began to spin. Oh God, I thought with some amount of disdain. Was this seedy joint to become my grave? No one was here to mourn it or place pretty flowers at its base. I was going to become a rotted corpse in the corner of the room, curled up pitifully in my final death throes; that is, if the walking dead didn’t find me first. Surely the smell of putrid, rotting flesh will entice them to this place – the windows aren’t exactly airtight, after all – and they will rip their way through the wood just to feast on my remains? No, stop. It doesn’t bear thinking about, not when I’m this close to the end. Instead my final hours would be spent making sure this place was impenetrable. 

 

I grabbed the hammer I’d left on the bar and began to salvage what parts I could find. My strength was beginning to fail me already, but resolutely I kicked and pulled apart tables and chairs to glean the precious wood I could use to safeguard my tomb. Mahogany, oak, pine; it was once pretty, but in this new age where beauty was useless – trivial – I tore it down and nailed it against the doors, windows and even the walls. Like hell were they coming in here to eat me. Minutes passed. The wind howled with my aching limbs. Eventually I had every available entrance to the house barricaded up like a fortress. For some reason I stood back and admired it. Why? Wasn’t this a sad thing? Nevertheless it was morbidly fascinating to look upon my handiwork and know that I had done akin to carving out my own coffin, or chiselling the head of a gravestone. I’d marked out my place to die but it hardly felt official. My body didn’t fill it yet, after all.

 

So I waited. Hours passed. The deathly dark of night descended, and with it I could feel my head grow heavy; my pulse weakened and I knew then I would be dead by morning. It’s strange, the foresight of the dying. You know when you’re going to go and prepare accordingly. I had no one to speak any final words to or hold close, however. I simply rested my head in the corner of the bar counter, counting down the minutes as the agony slowly drifted out of my system. I felt as if I was suddenly floating, where my thoughts became mingled with reality for a moment, manifesting themselves as physical entities that formed a shelter around me. I was safe. Nothing could hurt me here.

 

Such was the peace I knew before I slipped away forever."

 

Congratulations again!

 

That means the December entry giveaways are now open! So if you didn't win this month, perhaps you will win in the next month.

[FirstZomboid]

Sweet Entry, but I had to close Novembers entry. I can carry this over into the December giveaways, but I won't be announcing the first winner for at least two weeks. :/ think you can wait that long?

Sure, I can wait, no problem.

 

Congratulations to the winner, it was a really good story!

[Footmuffin]

 

So the time is finally upon us. Our very first winner, exciting times!

 

After much deliberation, I was finally able to pick someone out of our pool of winners. So without further ado, the winner of the very first winner, tajmajaj.

 

tajmajaj wrote this story based on their experience with the demo:

 

My name is Bonnie Campbell, I'm 27 years old, and like it or not I’m going to die.

 

"I’ve taken a bite to my arm, so I’m infected. If I’m not, then I’m lucky…I think. It’s either die or die anyway, so perhaps I should be glad that it will end sooner rather than later. My family are dead. I killed my husband myself when he turned on me, and my parents who live over a hundred miles away won’t answer the phone. Are they dead, zeds, or merely fleeing like I am? Does it matter? Home isn’t home anymore, not with Paul’s blood staining the carpet, so I might as well come here. Twiggy’s. It was a fucking awful place that I always avoided, but now it was a safe haven from the zed hordes shuffling about outside. The place was clear. People must have jumped up in their panic when they heard of a descending apocalypse and left their drinks and card games where they stood. Half-filled bottles and long burnt-out cigarettes littered the bar and tables, and apart from me clutching my blood-splattered hammer, the place was dead.

 

Wrong wording, I thought. I didn’t want to die. There was – had been so much to live for. Perhaps it was time to admit that everything worth living for was gone now. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to be a survivor. My bite, sustained from the person I loved the most, was stark evidence of that. I had wrapped the wound in a torn piece of shirt, but it wasn’t enough. Medicine was what I needed, but a quick and slightly desperate search of the building yielded nothing useful. Water, food, power…that’s not what I wanted right now. Fear seized me. Those zeds were still outside. Maybe they could smell the blood on me, the hammer, everything I had touched? Would they even be interested in that sort of thing?

 

Overwhelmed, I rushed to the storage room and found, to my great relief, spare wood and nails. They must have had to repair this place at some point; the building itself was made of wood, after all. So I grabbed it. Within minutes I’d banged a couple of planks across the windows and door, but it wasn’t enough. I wiped my brow and jumped at the noises I heard outside. Screams. More survivors, perhaps, but I didn’t get my hopes up. No one could help them or me now. The windows still weren’t right. I felt too exposed, so I searched high and low until I was left no choice but to desecrate the pool tables upstairs. Using the pointed end of my hammer, I viciously ripped the base fabric off of the slate and hung them up at the windows by nailing them to the walls. It looked utterly ridiculous. I didn’t care.

 

Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I felt a feeling of relative safety wash over me. They couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see them, so surely I was safe? Hiding behind the bar, arms wrapped around me, I waited for nothing as the evening drew in, bringing with it the violent rumblings of an approaching storm. The wind picked up and the room grew increasingly dark until I could only make out the barest shadows of objects. I needed light, but not so much that it would attract unwanted attention. Some candles and an abandoned lighter were my saviours. With them I sat behind the bar again, watching the wax slide down the side of the candle and settle in a pool on the floor. Drowsiness began to creep up on me, but as I fell deeper into a doze I was abruptly awoken. 

 

I stopped; listened without taking a breath. The great gusts of wind slammed into the side of the house and rattled the wooden planks I’d used to barricade the windows, but to me these noises were amplified beyond what they really were. For all I knew or could bring myself to believe, something was clawing its way in. The slightest innocent movement of the window drapes as it caught a cold draught eventually drove me to restless pacing, despite the agony I was in. Somehow I convinced myself that I would live longer if I kept moving, that perhaps this was how I could stay alive. Keep the blood flowing and nothing would happen – no fever would take hold. But already my palms felt clammy and my brow began to drip. I’d ignored it before, putting it down to simple anxiety. Who wouldn’t be anxious in this situation, right?

 

But it was more than that, and I secretly knew it. Plant the seed of doubt in your mind and it will grow, regardless of whether you consciously feed it or not. All too soon the room began to spin. Oh God, I thought with some amount of disdain. Was this seedy joint to become my grave? No one was here to mourn it or place pretty flowers at its base. I was going to become a rotted corpse in the corner of the room, curled up pitifully in my final death throes; that is, if the walking dead didn’t find me first. Surely the smell of putrid, rotting flesh will entice them to this place – the windows aren’t exactly airtight, after all – and they will rip their way through the wood just to feast on my remains? No, stop. It doesn’t bear thinking about, not when I’m this close to the end. Instead my final hours would be spent making sure this place was impenetrable. 

 

I grabbed the hammer I’d left on the bar and began to salvage what parts I could find. My strength was beginning to fail me already, but resolutely I kicked and pulled apart tables and chairs to glean the precious wood I could use to safeguard my tomb. Mahogany, oak, pine; it was once pretty, but in this new age where beauty was useless – trivial – I tore it down and nailed it against the doors, windows and even the walls. Like hell were they coming in here to eat me. Minutes passed. The wind howled with my aching limbs. Eventually I had every available entrance to the house barricaded up like a fortress. For some reason I stood back and admired it. Why? Wasn’t this a sad thing? Nevertheless it was morbidly fascinating to look upon my handiwork and know that I had done akin to carving out my own coffin, or chiselling the head of a gravestone. I’d marked out my place to die but it hardly felt official. My body didn’t fill it yet, after all.

 

So I waited. Hours passed. The deathly dark of night descended, and with it I could feel my head grow heavy; my pulse weakened and I knew then I would be dead by morning. It’s strange, the foresight of the dying. You know when you’re going to go and prepare accordingly. I had no one to speak any final words to or hold close, however. I simply rested my head in the corner of the bar counter, counting down the minutes as the agony slowly drifted out of my system. I felt as if I was suddenly floating, where my thoughts became mingled with reality for a moment, manifesting themselves as physical entities that formed a shelter around me. I was safe. Nothing could hurt me here.

 

Such was the peace I knew before I slipped away forever."

 

Congratulations again!

 

That means the December entry giveaways are now open! So if you didn't win this month, perhaps you will win in the next month.

 

omg i crey errytime

[doomblood66]

 

 

So the time is finally upon us. Our very first winner, exciting times!

 

After much deliberation, I was finally able to pick someone out of our pool of winners. So without further ado, the winner of the very first winner, tajmajaj.

 

tajmajaj wrote this story based on their experience with the demo:

 

My name is Bonnie Campbell, I'm 27 years old, and like it or not I’m going to die.

 

"I’ve taken a bite to my arm, so I’m infected. If I’m not, then I’m lucky…I think. It’s either die or die anyway, so perhaps I should be glad that it will end sooner rather than later. My family are dead. I killed my husband myself when he turned on me, and my parents who live over a hundred miles away won’t answer the phone. Are they dead, zeds, or merely fleeing like I am? Does it matter? Home isn’t home anymore, not with Paul’s blood staining the carpet, so I might as well come here. Twiggy’s. It was a fucking awful place that I always avoided, but now it was a safe haven from the zed hordes shuffling about outside. The place was clear. People must have jumped up in their panic when they heard of a descending apocalypse and left their drinks and card games where they stood. Half-filled bottles and long burnt-out cigarettes littered the bar and tables, and apart from me clutching my blood-splattered hammer, the place was dead.

 

Wrong wording, I thought. I didn’t want to die. There was – had been so much to live for. Perhaps it was time to admit that everything worth living for was gone now. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to be a survivor. My bite, sustained from the person I loved the most, was stark evidence of that. I had wrapped the wound in a torn piece of shirt, but it wasn’t enough. Medicine was what I needed, but a quick and slightly desperate search of the building yielded nothing useful. Water, food, power…that’s not what I wanted right now. Fear seized me. Those zeds were still outside. Maybe they could smell the blood on me, the hammer, everything I had touched? Would they even be interested in that sort of thing?

 

Overwhelmed, I rushed to the storage room and found, to my great relief, spare wood and nails. They must have had to repair this place at some point; the building itself was made of wood, after all. So I grabbed it. Within minutes I’d banged a couple of planks across the windows and door, but it wasn’t enough. I wiped my brow and jumped at the noises I heard outside. Screams. More survivors, perhaps, but I didn’t get my hopes up. No one could help them or me now. The windows still weren’t right. I felt too exposed, so I searched high and low until I was left no choice but to desecrate the pool tables upstairs. Using the pointed end of my hammer, I viciously ripped the base fabric off of the slate and hung them up at the windows by nailing them to the walls. It looked utterly ridiculous. I didn’t care.

 

Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I felt a feeling of relative safety wash over me. They couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see them, so surely I was safe? Hiding behind the bar, arms wrapped around me, I waited for nothing as the evening drew in, bringing with it the violent rumblings of an approaching storm. The wind picked up and the room grew increasingly dark until I could only make out the barest shadows of objects. I needed light, but not so much that it would attract unwanted attention. Some candles and an abandoned lighter were my saviours. With them I sat behind the bar again, watching the wax slide down the side of the candle and settle in a pool on the floor. Drowsiness began to creep up on me, but as I fell deeper into a doze I was abruptly awoken. 

 

I stopped; listened without taking a breath. The great gusts of wind slammed into the side of the house and rattled the wooden planks I’d used to barricade the windows, but to me these noises were amplified beyond what they really were. For all I knew or could bring myself to believe, something was clawing its way in. The slightest innocent movement of the window drapes as it caught a cold draught eventually drove me to restless pacing, despite the agony I was in. Somehow I convinced myself that I would live longer if I kept moving, that perhaps this was how I could stay alive. Keep the blood flowing and nothing would happen – no fever would take hold. But already my palms felt clammy and my brow began to drip. I’d ignored it before, putting it down to simple anxiety. Who wouldn’t be anxious in this situation, right?

 

But it was more than that, and I secretly knew it. Plant the seed of doubt in your mind and it will grow, regardless of whether you consciously feed it or not. All too soon the room began to spin. Oh God, I thought with some amount of disdain. Was this seedy joint to become my grave? No one was here to mourn it or place pretty flowers at its base. I was going to become a rotted corpse in the corner of the room, curled up pitifully in my final death throes; that is, if the walking dead didn’t find me first. Surely the smell of putrid, rotting flesh will entice them to this place – the windows aren’t exactly airtight, after all – and they will rip their way through the wood just to feast on my remains? No, stop. It doesn’t bear thinking about, not when I’m this close to the end. Instead my final hours would be spent making sure this place was impenetrable. 

 

I grabbed the hammer I’d left on the bar and began to salvage what parts I could find. My strength was beginning to fail me already, but resolutely I kicked and pulled apart tables and chairs to glean the precious wood I could use to safeguard my tomb. Mahogany, oak, pine; it was once pretty, but in this new age where beauty was useless – trivial – I tore it down and nailed it against the doors, windows and even the walls. Like hell were they coming in here to eat me. Minutes passed. The wind howled with my aching limbs. Eventually I had every available entrance to the house barricaded up like a fortress. For some reason I stood back and admired it. Why? Wasn’t this a sad thing? Nevertheless it was morbidly fascinating to look upon my handiwork and know that I had done akin to carving out my own coffin, or chiselling the head of a gravestone. I’d marked out my place to die but it hardly felt official. My body didn’t fill it yet, after all.

 

So I waited. Hours passed. The deathly dark of night descended, and with it I could feel my head grow heavy; my pulse weakened and I knew then I would be dead by morning. It’s strange, the foresight of the dying. You know when you’re going to go and prepare accordingly. I had no one to speak any final words to or hold close, however. I simply rested my head in the corner of the bar counter, counting down the minutes as the agony slowly drifted out of my system. I felt as if I was suddenly floating, where my thoughts became mingled with reality for a moment, manifesting themselves as physical entities that formed a shelter around me. I was safe. Nothing could hurt me here.

 

Such was the peace I knew before I slipped away forever."

 

Congratulations again!

 

That means the December entry giveaways are now open! So if you didn't win this month, perhaps you will win in the next month.

 

omg i crey errytime

 

lel

[doomblood66]

Just tell people you need to see it on their Steam account within 5 minutes, or you'll give it to someone else =D That way they can't have time to sell it.

But once I trade I can't get it back is the problem. At least I don't think I can?

no you can't trade back

I believe you just get a code. Tell the person the code -> if they don't use it quickly, give it to someone else. If they redeem it first, the original person can't.

that is possible but what if they sell it before it's given to someone else? It's surprising easy to sell stuff

Edit: you don't get a code, you get a coupon like thing in your steam invent

Also if you guys

need any trading or steam advice feel free to add me on steam it's doomblood66

[Connall]

 

 

Just tell people you need to see it on their Steam account within 5 minutes, or you'll give it to someone else =D That way they can't have time to sell it.

But once I trade I can't get it back is the problem. At least I don't think I can?

no you can't trade back

I believe you just get a code. Tell the person the code -> if they don't use it quickly, give it to someone else. If they redeem it first, the original person can't.

that is possible but what if they sell it before it's given to someone else? It's surprising easy to sell stuff

Edit: you don't get a code, you get a coupon like thing in your steam invent

Also if you guys

need any trading or steam advice feel free to add me on steam it's doomblood66

 

 

I already kind of answered that in my previous post >.<

 

I'm aware you don't get codes. I was just unsure if there was anyway to get the game copies back after I traded them, there's only one available path I have in that event but it's a bit meh. Hit or miss on effectiveness.

[Connall]

Howdy, so I finally decided the dates of the giveaway. I know it seems a bit longer but hopefully this will get us in a regular schedule. So here are the dates for the two Giveaways this month.

 

9th of December

 

23rd of December

 

 

Best of luck everyone!

[bvhv]

Connall your a good person for doing this.

[doomblood66]

 

 

 

-ill snip it-

-snip this too-

-sniped-

-lel i said sniped-

- i snip all dis-

 

-snippitiy snip-

 

Oops sorry

[Footmuffin]

 

 

 

-candyhand-

-butt scissoring-

-oral fingering-

-i really like cadny-

 

-oral-oral sex-

 

-bootytoe-

 

snipples

[lil slugger]

 

Just tell people you need to see it on their Steam account within 5 minutes, or you'll give it to someone else =D That way they can't have time to sell it.

 

But once I trade I can't get it back is the problem. At least I don't think I can?

 

 

Actually, if they do not accept the gift in time you can resend it to someone else, so Rathlord is on to something. At least, thats what happened when I tried gifting one of the many copies of DOTA I have.

[Xydonus]

I already kind of answered that in my previous post >.<

 

I'm aware you don't get codes. I was just unsure if there was anyway to get the game copies back after I traded them, there's only one available path I have in that event but it's a bit meh. Hit or miss on effectiveness.

 

 

Do you mean the trade window?

 

On Desura you can get copies back as long as they are redeemed. Did it myself when I was doing my giveaway on the old forums for a copy that wasn't claimed for 8 months. On Steam however I think the only way to get them back is if the gifter sends it back.

[Connall]

 

I already kind of answered that in my previous post >.<

 

I'm aware you don't get codes. I was just unsure if there was anyway to get the game copies back after I traded them, there's only one available path I have in that event but it's a bit meh. Hit or miss on effectiveness.

 

 

Do you mean the trade window?

 

On Desura you can get copies back as long as they are redeemed. Did it myself when I was doing my giveaway on the old forums for a copy that wasn't claimed for 8 months. On Steam however I think the only way to get them back is if the gifter sends it back.

 

 

Yeah, you used to be able to resend copies of the game that weren't redeemed, but Steam doesn't really do that anymore. Once it gets into their inventory there's nothing I can do.

[RubberTank]

Heya!

First off, I'd love a copy.

I've been watching Let's Plays (MathasGames) of this game for probably close to 10 hours, and it looks awesome.

I made a zombie-inspired raw sketch a few days ago (I'm an ummm... amateur digital art enthusiast, I guess). Now that I saw this Giveaway thread, I'm reworking and finishing it to submit here. Hope that raises my odds. Probably will be done with it by tomorrow.

Cheers

[Erik]

I hope it is not to late. I saw this topic today and decided to make a picture of the old demo (I played the game a long time ago).

 

First I want to say, I really enjoyed the game, always thought about buying it, but other things kind of gotten in the way and I never had the money to spent it on the game. Alright, sure I had 15$ at some point, but we all have to save up money for next gen don't we? And it's not like I can spend everything on games...

 

Anyways, here is the picture:

*hoping that someone gets the joke*

 

Believe it or not, it took me half the day to do this. It is not even really finished. Normally I do not create illustration in this kind of style, but it was a funny expirience. Evidence that this picture belongs to me will be send by PM if necessary.

Neat, But the window is on the second floor and barricaded 

[FirstZomboid]

 

I hope it is not to late. I saw this topic today and decided to make a picture of the old demo (I played the game a long time ago).

 

First I want to say, I really enjoyed the game, always thought about buying it, but other things kind of gotten in the way and I never had the money to spent it on the game. Alright, sure I had 15$ at some point, but we all have to save up money for next gen don't we? And it's not like I can spend everything on games...

 

Anyways, here is the picture:

*hoping that someone gets the joke*

 

Believe it or not, it took me half the day to do this. It is not even really finished. Normally I do not create illustration in this kind of style, but it was a funny expirience. Evidence that this picture belongs to me will be send by PM if necessary.

Neat, But the window is on the second floor and barricaded 

 

Haha, I wondered if anyone would see it. xD

 

It is kind of an insider of me. I always barricaded the windows so the visibility for the zombies is disable. Didn't know you could hang sheets on the windows.

[RubberTank]

Here's my fanart.
(edited: uploaded to imgur to link here)



Here's a direct link to the full-size one (2000x1200px): http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/336/5/d/project_zomboid_fanart_by_copperstain-d6wds4r.jpg

 

I'm not entirely sure if Spiffo is taking a nap or suffering from severe food poisoning.
Anyways, I was thinking of making it spoof the amount of blood you come in contact with when murdering hordes of Z-s, yet remaining uninfected. But that would've meant drawing a horde, and I'm not very good at drawing tons of people, that would have taken forever.
So here she is, minding her own business and axing zombies when a few jets decide to take the scenic route and a crawler wants some attention.

[AxeMan_PGCA]

Hi my name is AxeMan_PGCA in steam and on this website and i would love to receve a free copy  

[Plaguemelon]

Posting for the opportunity to be mauled by zombies

[Friend to Negan]

I would like a copy of Project Zomboid please.

[DonAiki]

Im DonAiki on steam and id love zombie games thus would love Project Zomboid

[bear5555]

hello this is a awesome giveaway and i think its great that someone is doing this for people who don't have enough money or can't but games on steam. i am entering this cause i was about to buy this game but i thought about my friend and how he has a computer and steam but cant but any game and i bought him a game instead. i love the fact that you are giving me and many other people that chance for getting this game for free. i got the demo of the game and played it for a while. i want this game very bad but i am ok if i don't get cause i know there are people out there who can never buy a game while i am here with 7 days to die and stuff like that. my steam name is markfern4321 thanks for givinh me and many other people the chance to get this game for free.

[CitizenX]

This game looks really interesting, unfortunately christmas is near and money is needed for gifts. A free copy would be great.

[FirstZomboid]

Made a new fanart, just realised that the bandages are on the wrong leg.

 

I know it doesn't appear finished, but this scetchy look is how I usually leave my artworks.