<string id="dm_information_167">
<text>I've been here since the the beginning man. Ever since the Zone was wild and everyone was killing everyone to hold down a rusty piece of shit in the middle of nowhere. It was dog eat dog, kill or be killed... some say it never changed but there was a time when it was different, you know? More order. It's like God, right? You might be indifferent to him, and he may be a fucking cruel and spiteful being who only wishes to rape and destroy everything you hold dear, but there was some sort of reason to the madness... The Ten Commandments and shit... keep to this, and you'll probably be alright. The Zone used to be like this. You could sort of predict what was going to happen.... now it's all changed. Everything's gone to shit... you can't predict anything. Artifacts used to be visible to the naked eye, the Monolith kept to themselves... now that some crazy fucker turned the scorcher off and everyone went north all bets are off. There's no Gods left in this place, man. Only the Zone... and if that doesn't terrify you, you clearly haven't been here long enough.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_168">
<text>I read this book once, by some western dude - name of Ellison. Pretty cool... pretty freaky. It was about this gigantic computer, right, that was designed to be the biggest artificial intelligence in the world. But something went wrong... it broke its programming, destroyed all of the humanity, and went insane. It realized that no matter how well it was programmed, no matter how much it learned it could never break the nature of what it was - a created construct. It had a few survivors, that it kept alive and tortured for all of eternity. Every ounce of its hate was focussed on these guys, and they eventually tried to kill each other to escape it. It got me to thinking... what if the Zone's like that? What if it's some fucked up experiment that went wrong and now it's alive - or as close as it can get - and wants to punish everything that has everything it wishes it had? Something to think about, maybe... or maybe not. People say I read too much as it is.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_169">
<text>I knew this guy once - name of Scar... craziest motherfucker I've ever seen. He had a deathwish. No matter how dangerous the mission was, no matter how unlikely it was he was going to come back alive, he took it... didn't have a care in the world. Can't imagine why someone would be like that... he must have been pretty screwed up in the head, right? But here's the crazy thing... it seems like nothing could finish that bastard off. He once got hit by two emissions in the space of a week, was out in the open, and survived both times. Can you fucking believe that? It's like the Zone saw his challenge and wanted to punish him for his arrogance. Ain't nothing for free in this world, man. Not even Death, if the Zone doesn't want you to have it. Some reckon he sold his soul to the Zone... god only knows what happened to him. He fell off the face of the world.. but someone like that doesn't go easy, you know? Wonder what he's up to now...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_170">
<text>You get used to a lot of things in the Zone... the shitty food, crappy company and constant threat of death.. but one thing you never get used to is the surges. You must have experienced them.... terrible times. It's like the world goes hazy, everything is unreal and the voices... god... They say it's different for everyone. I swear to god I can sometimes hear my mother's voice in the screams. I asked the guys at the bunker what caused them, or at least what they were and they couldn't say. Said it was some sort of "latent psychic energy" or some shit. Why do we even listen to these guys? All that fucking education and they can't explain why my teeth ache and I feel like I'm dying inside everytime one hits.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_171">
<text>I swear to god the Gunsmiths are all in on some sort of racket... I went to get my shooter repaired the other day, and Cardan charged me a fucking fortune. How can it cost that much to repair? For the amount of money I gave him he could have thrown the fucking thing in the trash and bought a new shooter from Nimble with money to spare. Wonder if they're in cahoots?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_172">
<text>Hey man, I'm so fucking close to getting my official permit. I've been running missions for the scientists, right? They need stalkers to investigate the weird shit happening in the Zone. It's done under the table, as they're really not supposed to hand them out like candy, but get in their good graces and you've got it made. No Military harassing you... mind you, the rest don't give a shit if you're legit or not. Mutants don't care either, but I'm so fucking close... one more good raid and I've got it in the bank.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_173">
<text>You ever wonder why things are so shitty here? It seems kind of unreal, you know... I went to Hiroshima once, where they dropped the bomb... and it's completely different. You'd think after all these years that nature would take root again. Ain't nobody cutting down trees, or fishing the streams, or messing with animal breeding... so why is everything still fucked beyond repair? Everything dies here, man. It's not natural... There's life living pretty much everywhere on this planet, and flourishing... why is the Zone so different?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_174">
<text>The Zone's hard going, you know? It changes things. Take a friend of mine... one time he raided a stash and found a pair of boots. Pretty lucky, right? His old ones were worn away and riddled with holes. They let the rain and boar shit and everything get through. He was overjoyed. Decided to go back to the Skadovsk and celebrate his good fortunes. Had a couple of drinks.. far too many, to be honest, and got blind drunk. When he woke up he was safely at his camp... pretty surprising. He could barely string a sentence together, let alone get home. Turns out this happened a lot.. whenever he was drunk, he would always wake up back at camp. He thought it was pretty suspicious, so asked a few people to keep a look out for him the next time. He got pass-out drunk, and miraculously started walking back to camp. Turns out the boots... they had been touched by the Zone. They could always find a safe path. He blessed his good fortunes, and thought nothing of it. His luck changed pretty sharply though, when one time after getting drunk he woke up and found he was halfway through the Circus anomaly. He was shitting himself, as you can imagine. He managed to get back safely, anyway, and decided to get rid of the shoes. Turns out they had a mind of their own and were getting bored going the one way trip to his camp.. they wanted to explore the Zone. It was a futile effort. Whenever he sold them, they would always walk their way back. He tried locking them away, but they eventually broke down every container they were put in. He was distraught... he could just not get rid of these fucking boots. He eventually got into a heated argument with them - pretty one sided, as you can imagine - and told them how much he hated them, and how he wished he never found them, and that they should fuck off and never bother him again. Turns out they took this pretty badly... walked straight into a Burner. Vaporized instantly. Now, my buddy's always been a bit of a sentimental guy, I guess. He was really shook up about this. Other stalkers used to laugh at him, behind his back and openly to his face, about how he was in love with a pair of shoes. He was really eaten up, thinking about the problem... could the shoes actually have some sort of consciousness? How terrible it is, he thought, that the shoes could have taken their own life because of him. Did they even have a life? He didn't know... He eventually came across an old priest, wandering the Zone and giving guidance and counsel to those who wished it. My friend talked to the priest and told him the entire story. He expected the priest to laugh at him, like all others did, but he just listened solemnly. Eventually, after the story was told, the priest took my friend by the shoulder and said that it was OK. The boots, he said, were happy. They had finally gone to heaven, or whatever the equivalent is. My friend was relieved... this was a huge burden off his shoulders and his spirit. God is merciful, the priest says, and cares for all his creation, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to us. You see, it turns out shoes have soles. Something to think about, stalker.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_175">
<text>Be careful around pseudogiants, man. They've got their junk on the bottom of their feet. They step on you and you're well and truly fucked.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_176">
<text>I came across a drunk on his hands and knees the other day. I asked him what he was doing. "I lost my shooter! I'm trying to find it". I asked him where he lost it. "About a hundred yards that way". "So why are you looking for it here, guy?" "The lighting's better by here".</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_177">
<text>I know the Zone's a harsh place... but some people go way overboard. I was travelling with a stalker the other day, and we heard some moans. Turns out a group of stalkers got fucked by a bloodsucker. They managed to take it out, but they were hurting badly man.... this guy, he pulls out his shooter, walks over to each of them and puts a bullet in their heads. Cold... how can people be like that? He said it was the merciful thing to do... but couldn't we have done something else? It wasn't that far from a camp... we could have dragged them there and tried to help, you know? The Zone makes monsters out of people, stalker... that's for fucking sure.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_178">
<text>I met Strelok once, you know? It's true... I was at the Dark Valley... scoping out the bandits. I was on my belly, in some bushes, checking them out with my binoculars. Didn't want to piss them off, you know? Borov was in charge back then, and Duty had put a contract out on his head. Figured if I could get a bead on him I could be made, right? I was checking out the windows when I heard the most awful sound you can hear. The sound of a gun being cocked. A bandit... This fucker was good.. never heard him coming. He pulled me to my feet, checked out my gear and was pretty damn certain about what my plans were. You don't take a Vintorez and a pair of binoculars out without planning on using them. He was getting ready to pull the trigger when his head exploded. I damn near shit myself. I thought he'd pulled the trigger and it was my own brains across my face. This stalker walks up, bold as brass, and starts looting this guy. I was still in shock. He grabbed my ass and dragged me somewhere safer. I got a good look at him, and it was Strelok alright. Those hazel eyes... wiry face. Let me tell you, his name is well deserved. If he hadn't shown up I'd be a corpse right now. We shared a drink together, talked a bit about the Zone and went our seperate ways. I'll always remember that day...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_178">
<text>A rookie enters the Zone, and meets a veteran stalker. The rookie's all riled up, wanting to see what the Zone has to offer. The veteran decides to take him under his wing... The vet says to him... "Now that you've come here, I'm sure you want to become a true stalker, huh? All in good time, boy. First of all, we're going to have a party for you to celebrate the first day of your new life." The rookie looks slightly excited. "Now I must warn you... in the Zone we do things different. At this party, there's going to be a lot of drinking. Think you can handle that?" The rookie looks pretty happy and says "Are you kidding? I reckon I can drink the Zone under the table!" The veteran slaps him on the back and says "That's my boy! Now, another fair warning... we in the Zone are a bit of a rowdy lot. There's probably gonna be a lot of fighting. Reckon you're up to it?" The rookie smiles once again. "I was in prison for years! I had to fight every day there. Bring it on!" The veteran grins and says "Oh, you're a con, huh? Well you'll like this next one. At the Zone... we sometimes get a bit frisky. There's probably going to be a fair amount of sex. Reckon you can handle that, boy?" The rookie just laughs. "Friend, I've been in prison for most of my life. No job in the Great Land will take me. I came to the Zone for a new life... I haven't seen touched a woman for years. What do you think?" The veteran looks shocked. "You misunderstand me, boy... there's no girls here. It's just going to be me and you at this party..."</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_179">
<text>One thing I really can't stand is people who are cruel to animals. Yeah, there's my type in the Zone too. Don't get me wrong, I understand the laws of the Zone: It's kill or be killed, and if an animal is dead set on your life then you have to do what you have to do to survive... but I always avoid encounters with them whenever I can, and if I have to kill them, I try to be as humane as possible. Too much unnecessary suffering in the world, man, without adding more to it. My types usually join the hunters... for some reason. Guess they figure that culling certain animals is a necessary evil and better to do it efficiently and humanely without making them suffer, you know? I came across a group of bandits the other day... they had a dog and were cutting parts off it while it was still alive. They may be "monsters" now, but they're still living things... if there had been a few less of them, or maybe I had a better gun, there'd be a few less bandits in the world after witnessing that shit. The Zone redefines the rules, man, but you need to remember what the rules used to be... or you become a monster.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_180">
<text>People really need to learn to keep their hands off other people's shit. Seriously, it could save your life. Most stalkers work hard for what they've got, and it's considered bad form to just take it if you don't have their permission. How would you feel if your hard-earned spoils got ripped off by some no-name fuck who spends it all, dumps the rest, then goes and gets himself killed? Probably not very good. Myself, I like to boobytrap my shit. Figure anyone who gets hit by one deserves everything they've got coming to them. Usually just leave a shooter in there, with the barrel blocked. Guy tries to fire the gun, and he's going to remember never to steal another man's stuff again for the rest of his life everytime he can't jack off thanks to his mangled hand. Mines are too expensive, but I'd love to see the look on some guy's face when he stumbles across a stash and ends up bleeding out with his guts across his slacks. Hehe... shit, why am I even telling you this? You're probably gonna roll me over for my shit now, right? Fuck...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_181">
<text>Man, the Monolith creep me out. I've only ever seen them once myself, but I was fucking terrified. They're insane. Completely and totally batshit. And here's the thing: They've gotten worse. You ought to hear the stories about them, man. One guy said he threw a grenade, hoping to scatter them, and they literally walked through it. One of them was missing an arm, but still they came. They're like zombies man, except these guys have brains. And heavy duty equipment... who the fuck knows where they get it, but they've got weaponry I didn't even know existed. If you ever see one, run. Drop whatever you're doing and get the fuck out of there. If you have no choice and have to fight, then give them your all. They'll show you no mercy. And if you happen to have God on your side and manage to take one of them out - stay the fuck away. They won't hesitate to kill themselves to take you out with them...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_182">
<text>The Zone changes people, guy. It's true... you become more perceptive. Everything you see, everything you do, has to benefit you in some way or you're not going to make it. Have to figure most of the guys who have gotten this far have only done so because they're the best. Survival of the fittest, man. Weaklings don't make it, the strong survive, so you better be fucking sure you're one of the latter, an alpha, before you go starting any shit, because if you're not you're in for a world of hurt. Remember that the next time you think you're hot shit.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_183">
<text>The Zone is stranger than we can ever hope to imagine. A friend of mine told me this, and I have no reason not to believe him... but he was stalking around the Red Forest not too long ago. The Scorcher had just got switched off, so he figured he'd risk it, right? Managed to get near to Pripyat itself. Then suddenly he was hit in the back of the head from behind. Never saw the guy coming. He woke up in some sort of bunker somewhere: surrounded by Monolith. He was shitting himself, as you can imagine. He tried to reason with them, but no amount of pleading would stop them. They were talking in that weird way they do... said he was a Barbarian, come to invade the Holy City - who knows what kind of weird religious mumbo jumbo they've got going. They had his hands tied behind his back, and were just about to execute him, when they suddenly went strange. Like the lightswitch in their head just got switched off. Out like a light, but still standing... I don't know how he managed it, but he managed to get himself loose and got the fuck out of there. Didn't even try to stop him. They were like the walking dead... strange, right?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_184">
<text>I never used to buy into that religious crap, you know? God is great, god is merciful, god is a vengeful and jealous fucker. How can he be all three? Then I came into the Zone and it's sort of a game changer... they say there's no atheists in foxholes, but you'd have to be a pretty hardline motherfucker to be one here. There's things here that defy explanation. I guess you can look at it scientifically, looking at evolution for the mutants, or physics for the weird anomalies.. but there's stuff here that science just can't explain. A friend of mine died when we were kids. It was a stupid mistake.. never should have happened. I guess I always blamed myself for his death, you know? We were into some pretty crazy shit.. and it turns out that he was the one who suffered for it. I eventually got over it, as best I could, but you never truly get over something like that. The other day, I saw him. I swear to god, he was right there in front of me. He asked me why it happened. Why I didn't do anything. I damn near broke down and cried. He knew everything. What happened, how it was my fault, and how one day I will be judged. Then he was gone... craziest thing I've ever witnessed. So yeah, some might like to think the Zone is scientific wonderland, but I think differently... this is a cursed place, stalker. Every day I walk through here, I can't help but think we're one day closer to the end days.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_185">
<text>People say there's no girls in the Zone, but they don't know what the fuck they're talking about. There's plenty, they just have to hide it well, you know? It's a damn shame it has to be like that, but here there's no order and these sex-starved maniacs will do anything for a thrill. It's fucked up. I was with a group one time, and this one person I just knew was a lady. There's little signs.. she'd always go away from everyone else to do her business, and always wore a gas mask to cover her face. Armor isn't very form-fitting so she didn't have to worry about that. This one guy we picked up managed to figure it out aswell. Fucker tried to rape her. I was woke up by a struggle in the middle of the night. I thought a mutant had got into the camp or something, but he managed to jump her while she was on guard duty and tried to have his way with her. I blew both his kneecaps off with my shooter and left him for dead. Some assholes just don't deserve the gift of life.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_186">
<text>Hey, watch your back around here. Some guys aren't like me. They're proper scum. Me? I live and let live. Provided you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours. Fuck with me, though, and you're going to regret it when you realize you ain't got any means of keeping your guts inside you. Yeah, ask anyone - they'll tell you not to fuck with me.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_187">
<text>You want to know how to succeed in a place like this? You need to make an offering to the Zone. Here's how you do it. You go out, in the dead of night, near here, and you place all of your valuables in an easy-to-carry bag or something. Then you kneel down in front of it, and say "Almighty Zone! I pledge this offering to you! Please remove my suffering, and give me all that I desire!" Within a few minutes you'll be touched by the Zone. Everything you do will be blessed. You might want to carry a flare or something with you aswell, and set it off when you do it... the Zone's messengers sometimes have a hard time finding stalkers when it's so dark...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_188">
<text>I used to be a guide, back in the old days. It's a hard job - not only are you responsible for your own life, but the lives of others aswell. I speak English pretty well, so I would often take "tourists" into the Zone. Rich fuckers who wanted to see what the Zone was all about, without the hardship of actually living here. Got pretty famous for a while... people started a rumour that I knew the way to the Wish Granter. I didn't, but I didn't mind people thinking I did. A lot of business came my way. The thing is... in the Zone you really get to know people. You want to know a man's character? A week in the Zone will tell you everything you need to know about him.. and the people that came to me, wanting their desires granted... well, it would make me shudder. Empty men, with dead eyes... nothing they do is ever for the benefit of anybody but themselves. Even if I did know the way to the Wish Granter, I don't think I'd take a damn soul - not all wishes are good, you know?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_189">
<text>You ever hear of Death Trucks? Just one of the fucked up things in the Zone. Place is full of them... the trucks, though.. there's just something about them that makes my skin crawl. Finding a working vehicle in this place is impossible, and it seems the only ones that do work are responsible for shit like that. One crashed near the Cordon not too long ago. Supposedly they found a living guy in there. Guy was full-retard though so they couldn't get any information out of him. Don't really think most people would want to, either. I hear they're part of some smuggling operation. People die in the Zone all the time... maybe some fucker is sending corpses somewhere for study. Who knows?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_190">
<text>Why are you coming to me? I hope you're not seeking salvation. I've long ago given up promising people that. I'm a priest... in word only now, it seems. I used to believe that God was merciful, that he was fair and just... but how can I go on thinking such a thing? I came to the Zone in the hope of rekindling the faith in these lost souls, but it seems I've become lost myself. Nothing could prepare me for this place. I've worked in missions all around the world, and even in the darkest moments there's still some glimmer of faith - of hope. Here? Well, you could walk a thousand years in the Zone and not find a single person who truly believes. The Zone beats it out of you, and laughs gleefully while it does.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_191">
<text>Saw the freakiest fucking thing I ever saw not too long ago. Me and the boys were on a raid, right... and we found this guy. He seemed pretty out of it. Didn't know what the fuck he was doing or saying. Like some sort of retard, I guess. Guess we were a bit soft, because we decided to let him come with us. An extra guy might come in handy if shit goes down, right? Went to sleep that night, and was woken up by a gunshot. My friend had woken up and this thing was hovering over him. Looked like a person, but it was all out of whack... his arms were deformed or something. Guess he tried to kill my friend but he woke up just in time and managed to get a gunshot off, hit this thing in the shoulder and it ran off screaming. That dude we picked up? No sign of him, just his trench coat.... Yeah, some weird shit out there let me tell you.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_192">
<text>I usually don't sleep in camps... most of the time the "benefits" aren't worth it, you know? Sure you might be safe from a mutant attack, but if some fucker steals your piece then you're fucked either way, right? A lot of thieving bastards out there. I like to pick a nice sheltered spot out in the middle of nowhere... sure, the occassional mutant might take exception to me, but at least I know my gear's in order and I can handle that. And you can't exactly go blowing everyone away if they've got a piece that looks like yours, right? They've got friends, and... well, it's just not worth it.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_193">
<text>I don't think there's a single person in the Zone who is here out of choice. If there is, I don't think I've ever met them. Virtually everyone I've talked to has the same background. Usually criminals hiding from the law, dodging the draft or they have a family back home that will live in poverty if they don't do something. That's the choice most stalkers have: Come to the Zone or have your life ruined. Of course, once they get here they realize that their life is pretty much over anyway - here at least they have some chance of saving those closest to them with dirty money. Not even those Western "extreme tourists" come here. Why would they? There's more than enough stalkers working their knuckles to the bone, risking their lives for artifacts while they can profit off the "knowledge" it brings. The entire situation makes me sick.... sorry, I don't feel like talking much anymore.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_194">
<text>Hope is a dangerous thing to have in the Zone. There are those who will tell you it is all that gives them meaning, the drive to go on - but I say it is the most dangerous thing of all. The Zone knows. Everything. Your desires, your wants, you dirty secrets... it knows everything. There's not a single thought in your head that the Zone doesn't know. And Hope, in any form, makes it angry. It can't stand it. A friend of mine had a family back home. He would tell me about them a lot. He had photos of them - a beautiful wife and two daughters. He kept telling me that "today was the day" he was going to make it. Eventually he did. He got lucky, found an artifact nobody had ever seen before. He took it to the scientists and they were willing to pay thousands for it. Unbelievable, right? So much money they didn't have enough to give him, they would have to get more airlifted in with their next supply drop... Yeah, he had it made. Then he suffered a bite. A dog. What started off as a routine infection got worse. No doctor could help him. He died before he could get paid... I don't know what happened to the artifact. I wouldn't be surprised if the Zone reclaimed it. After that I wanted to contact his family... let them know, but nobody had the slightest idea who he was or where he came from. No hope, stalker... it will kill you. Trust me on this.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_195">
<text>There this saying, "Stalkers go to the head of the line in Heaven". It's bullshit. Guess it appeals to certain people, you know, but there's no truth to it. You need only look around you to see how much bullshit it is. You want to know why heaven and hell are a fucking joke? Man could never have imagined a place like the Zone. The Bible's idea of Hell is fire and brimstone - real unimaginative shit. Real Hell is here. Hell is having to put your friend down because his guts were ripped out by an anomaly. Hell is never knowing if this is the day when you finally join the ranks of the living dead. And Heaven? Well, virgins and harp-playing don't cut it. Getting out alive, now that's heavenly.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_196">
<text>Before I came to the Zone, I was an ecologist. Studying the lives of animals and shit, you know? I wanted to come here and research the Zone, but they don't really hand out permits to ecological types. If you're a biochemist? Sure. Physicist? Knock yourself out, but guys like us get fucked. Going in illegal is the only way to learn anything. A lot of the shit here they don't want people to know about, you know? It's all well and good to say "This place is a technological wonderland" but when shit gets serious people just don't want to think about it. How would people react if they knew that some of their country's best and brightest are now nothing more than brainless animals wandering the Zone until they get put down? But here's the thing: people need to know. They have a right to know. The stuff that's happening here is unreal... and the advancements people could make if they could use some of this stuff? Well, we wouldn't need this shitty little planet anymore - we could be off exploring bigger and better places. That's why Freedom's the best bet.. they understand this. Duty guys see something that doesn't resonate with their tiny-brained world view and they want to destroy it. Maybe that's why they're so uptight - the first time they see some pussy they decide it's unnatural and run it away. Heh.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_197">
<text>It amazes me how there's so much talent in the Zone. Some would say it's wasted, but I think it's here more than anywhere where we need those sorts. Poets, writers, musicians... in the Great Land they tend to be devalued. Why should stuff like that matter? What good has a story ever done? Here... people appreciate it more. I've seen stalkers moved to tears by a piece of music that reminds them of home - of a happier time. The Zone can be a harsh place, but despite that the human spirit still burns strongly. You can put us in chains, but still we'll sing.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_198">
<text>Saw the funniest thing not too long ago. I was scouting out near the old Sawmill when I saw some military dude being run down by something. He had to ditch everything... ran into the building. Guess he figured he would be safe in there... stupid fuck didn't realize that the place is swarming with Z's. I'm probably going to head back there sometime... see if I can find the guy's body and some of his loot. Military equipment goes for a lot - even if the owners are scum.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_199">
<text>Some guys are scared of the so-called mercs. See them as some sort of Zone boogeyman. Not me. See, they might have shit-hot equipment and training... but one thing they ain't got is Zone-smarts. There's some shit you only learn the hard way - through experience. Ain't no way of predicting when an emission is going to come by using classical training... once you get into the Zone, survive a few, and know what to look for... then you just know. A tingling behind your eyes... your teeth aching, some little sign that tells you all hell is about to break loose and you need to get under somewhere solid. The mercs think they can take the Zone by force... but the Zone is a cruel, hard bitch. Force is a currency the Zone trades in, and the Zone has got a blank cheque. Want to see where that attitude will take you? Look at those military choppers - fucking ripped out of the sky like they were made of paper. The Zone wants to be respected, or it will punish. Remember that, it could probably save your life.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_200">
<text>Pseudogiants... man. They might look pretty clumsy and inelegant, but they're like bears - once they get your scent there's nothing short of a truck that's going to stop them. Think they can't move? Think again. Constantly hungry, too... stands to reason, doesn't it? Something that size has to keep eating just to keep going... I've seen them eat everything. Dogs, snorks.. dumpsters... if there's something it can catch, and it has a bit of sustenance to it, it'll eat it and not think twice. Give them a wide berth... I would recommend climbing up a tree or something if one goes after you, but chances are good it'll eat the fuckin' tree then have you for dessert.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_201">
<text>Sometimes I like just sitting in camp, listening to the radio, you know? It's a quick, easy way to get your mind off things. Sometimes you need that little bit of escape, or it just gets too much. I always wonder where the fuck the signal is coming from... what are the chances there's some dude out there on the fringes of the Zone sending out a broadcast to keep people's spirit up? Pity it gets so fucked up here... I'd really like to know the story behind it.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_202">
<text>I just didn't want to do it anymore. Kill people, I mean... I'm a deserter from the Army. I have nowhere else to go. If I go back to the Great Land, my own brothers would sell me out for a quick pay day. The only fate awaiting me out there is a court martial, and a bullet to the head if I'm lucky. No.. I just couldn't do it anymore. No more death. It's senseless - no reason to it. And here, since I've come here... I don't know how many I've had to kill just to stay alive. I'm tired of all this death, and all his killing. Why do people hold onto that which makes them unhappy? Here, we could be anything - free, prosperous and loving... yet all we do is divide ourselves up. Duty, Freedom, Loners... and kill each other. No reason for it. Just because we can't bear the thought of not belonging? What's the point...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_203">
<text>I went out with a Freedomer not too long ago. Guess the guy was pretty paranoid or something, but he was constantly on edge. Not a bad way to be, but it kind of got old. Same old story - we'd stop somewhere, he'd look around him, look worried, then we'd keep on moving. Eventually after a couple of hours I got sick of this... and asked him what his deal was. "I think we're being followed". I look around.. clear for miles. A bloodsucker maybe? Anyway, we were both a bit on edge after that... eventually, he stops dead in his tracks and fucking loses it. He turns around, runs screaming, and kicks a snail up in the air. "What the fuck are you doing, man?!" He looked panicked and said: "That fucking snail has been FOLLOWING ME FOR HOURS!!"</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_204">
<text>You can feel it in the air, can't you? Shit's about to go down here, and go down big time. Us stalkers are the ones who will get fucked the most. When Duty and Freedom finally decide that the "truce" isn't working out, this isn't gonna be a safe place to hang out anymore. You want my advice? Get out of here, and get out quick. Head to the Skadovsk. I'd love to go there myself, but can't afford the trip. At least the bandits there are upfront - none of this ideological crap.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_205">
<text>What the fuck good does trying ever do? Huh? Take me... I was in position to be Sultan's right hand man. When shit went down, who was it that took the heat? Who shivved those who needed to be shivved? Who was there to put Borov and his guys down like the dogs they were? Me, man. I had it made. But who got chosen? That no name fuck "Knuckles". Yeah, Sultan's gonna get his alright. And when he does, I'll gladly twist the blade. Cheating, scheming fuck.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_206">
<text>The Zone can drive you crazy. It's best not to think too much about it, things are weird here, no mistake. I knew this guy - brilliant scientist, one of the better ones. Couldn't get an official permit, so came in illegally. Guy went insane. He found a springboard, took a pack of bolts out with him and decided to try and figure it out. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Turns out here, it's doing the same thing over and over and expecting things to turn out the same. Yeah, he went fucking nuts. Every time he threw a bolt in, it would react differently. No matter how precise he recreated each throw, it was a wildly different result each time. The anomaly hadn't changed, the bolts hadn't changed, nothing changed, but every time he tried it, something different. Guy went loopy. It must be a terrible thing to have every single "truth" you think you know broken so utterly and completely with no regard for how things should be.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_207">
<text>A lot of people are afraid of death. Not me. I've been in the Zone too long. I've cheated death more times than I can remember. The ghosts that follow me around have to form an orderly line. Yeah, I'm a man living on borrowed time - and any day that I can get extra is more than welcome, but I ain't gonna run and hide when my time comes. Yeah, when I bite the big one, I'm going to walk through the gates of hell, drop my gun and pack and scream "Hallelujah! The long awaited holiday!" Heh.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_208">
<text>I've got an idea of sorts. You ever hear of something called "Herd Immunity"? It's basically a disease thing. If a population is over 95% resistant to a disease, then that disease can't get a foothold in the population. The disease dies out, and everyone's safe. Guess sheep do the same sort of thing to protect themselves against wolves - the more there are, the less likely each one is to be eaten. Got me to thinking: What if we could do this with mutants and stalkers? Just imagine - every single stalker in the Zone is completely drunk out of their skull. If you were to take a blood sample, it would be pure vodka. Then imagine a bloodsucker looking for a quick meal: It might get one, but god only knows that motherfucker is gonna wake up with one hell of a fucking hangover. Maybe the news will spread like wildfire, and we'll all be better off. So what do you reckon? Coincidentally, I've got some vodka I'd like to sell.. reasonable price.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_209">
<text>Look around you. It's beautiful, isn't it? This city, it's something else. My parents used to live here. I was just a baby at the time, but we had a house near here. I've been trying my hardest to find it, but they're both dead now and it's hard tracking it down by memory. Don't really know what I expect to get out of it - my parents took their stuff, and anything else is probably looted - but it's some sort of link to the past. This place used to be beautiful - a modern marvel. Now look at it. God only knows what the fuck happened.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_210">
<text>I sometimes wonder what the point is. The world is fucked - not just here, but everywhere. My own homeland is succumbing to fascists. My grandfather is turning over in his grave - he fought them, and fought them proudly, and now they're becoming a viable choice. Do people really not remember what the last assholes did? I had to get out. My only real regret is leaving my family behind. They're not the right colour - born in the country proudly, but a few tones darker than what the Nazis would like. I send them parcels every now and then, but I don't even know if they're reaching them or not. Wouldn't surprise me if they're already dead and the packages are being intercepted by some official who is pocketing the money and living the high life. The thought that I can help them get out is what's keeping me going. If I ever found out for certain, it would destroy me.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_211">
<text>Fuck everything. We risk our ass, and what kind of compensation do we get? Not even enough to cover the loss of blood, bullets and bile. I just know these assholes are holding something back. What kind of scum would send someone out to near certain death, then not even give them enough to cover the meds? Fuck Beard especially. I hope Sultan fleeces that fucker for everything he's worth - I bet he'll be able to squeeze blood out of that stone.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_212">
<text>What the fuck do you want to know? Why is scum like you even talking to me? You think you've got something to offer me? Maybe you want a handout? You stalkers are all the fucking same. Run, stalker, with your tail between your legs, before I show you what a real man looks like.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_213">
<text>I fuckin' hate my father. Death was too good for that son of a whore. He used to beat us. Me, my brothers, and my mother. Yeah, one day I knew I'd get him. He would regret ever raising his hand to us. Before I left for the Zone, I slit that fucker's throat. As he bled out, he looked into my eyes and he knew. Yeah, that shit knew. I left my mother a note: "Finally, we are free". Yeah, so that's my story. Bet you regret asking, huh?</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_214">
<text>I used to like hanging out as the Skadovsk, but it's not really safe now. Sultan put his grand plan into action, and it's fuckin' tragic man. Breaks my heart to see Beard like that, you know? Yeah, he was a bit of a tight ass and the drinks weren't the best, but it was a good place to hang out. I guess all's fair in the Zone, but jesus...</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_215">
<text>Sometimes I look back at the things I did and want to fuckin' end it all. I found this artifact once, when I was still a rookie. Didn't know what it was, didn't even know what it did. All I knew is that when I wore it, my bones ached less. My leg is all fucked up, a childhood accident. Used to be that when I walked too much, the pain was unbearable. The joints or something were worn down, but wearing that artifact? I felt like I could walk ten miles without breaking a sweat. I sent it home to my mother - she has athritis. It looked pretty, and it would be just the thing to help her out. Three months later I was diagnosed with cancer - I've got fuckin' tumours growing in my bone marrow. They grow outward, and sometimes can even break skin and arteries. If I move too much, chances are good I'll get a major rupture and bleed out internally. How's that for a kick in the balls? I want to know if my mother's okay. Did I hand her a fuckin' death sentence? She never mentions her health, and it always gets to me. Every time I write to her, I mean to ask her, but I can't bring myself to do it. If we both acknowledge it, chances are good she'll end up hating me for the rest of our lives. I'm not even sure if she'd tell me the truth. Ah shit. Sorry for bringin' this up, I'm sure you don't want to hear my problems.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_216">
<text>You know, don't you? Yeah, you do. You've got that look in your eyes. The deadness is what I can't stand. It's like I can see the world, but I just don't feel connected anymore. Even talking to you now it seems like it's all ultimately futile and pointless. Do you get the dreams? I can barely stand to sleep. She comes to me in the dreams. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Every time I try to get close to her, she slips out of my grasp and laughs. A cold laugh, but I still must try to follow. I can't help it. People say I look like shit, how can I tell them it's because I can't sleep because someone, or something, is calling to me? Demanding that I follow. Vodka doesn't help. Each night, before I go to sleep, I try to obliterate my brain with as much as I can stand, but still she comes. I just want to know what will happen if I catch her..</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_217">
<text>It's pointless, really. I don't know why I got dragged into this war. Freedom and Duty - what fucking good are either of us? We're no closer to our goals. The Zone's still here, and we're still fighting these same fucking pointless battles. Duty ain't done shit, and from the looks of things neither have Freedom. Why do we still know so little? We've lost countless men, countless fuckin' boys - not men - and for what? We still ain't any closer to figuring any of this shit out. I sometimes think it's just an excuse for the top brass to wave their dicks at each other. Yeah, that's the way it is - we all die pointless fuckin' deaths just so the guys at the top can prove their prick is bigger than the other guy's. Makes me sick.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_218">
<text>I'm curious: How exactly can you stalkers eat this shit you call food? I tried some grilled boar and it made me want to fuckin' puke. No wonder you're a bunch of scrawny fucks if your idea of a good meal is chowing down on irradiated shit.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_219">
<text>You see this piece here? Beauty, isn't it? Yeah, this is the reason why I'm going places and guys like you aren't. Baby never jams, it's always ready for me. I bet you'd have no idea what to do with it if something like this fell into your hands, huh? Yeah, get out of here, stalker - or you'll see what it can do on a very personal level.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_220">
<text>I was forced to come here. Yeah, I was seeing the same doc over and over again but he couldn't tell me shit about anything. Same useless fucking story - not a single idea in that empty, brainless skull of his. I hear there are guys here who know - who can give me answers. I go to the scientists, and they tell me they can't help me. It's not their speciality. Big fuckin' surprise. Nobody can tell me anything. Even after I opened the last quack's head I couldn't find anything in there. No solution. Same old shit. These new guys though, they're hiding it from me. I know it. Yeah, I'll find it - don't you worry.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_221">
<text>I keep having this dream. I'm chained, with my hands on my shoulders, and forced to march. There are other guys too - some infront of me, some behind. I can't see any of them very well, and everything tells me not to look behind me. It's vitally important I keep marching, and don't look back. Every time I collapse out of exhaustion I feel like I can't go on, but something forces me to get up and continue. The dream ends when I can't go on any more, and what's behind me gets angry. What the hell do you think that means? It's the most terrifying dream I've ever had. I wake up constantly with shivers and cold sweat. I can't go on like this anymore.</text>
</string>
<string id="dm_information_222">
<text>Ah, what the fuck is this place all about? I've never seen this kind of shit before in my life. The worst thing I had to deal with before was some stupid ragheads looking for their 72 virgins with an express ticket to heaven. Now I've got to deal with weird fuckin' weather, every animal in a 20 mile radius trying to kill me, emissions and worst of all fuckin' shitbrained stalkers. Shoulda stayed with Blackwater...</text>
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