-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: For many years I have been roleplaying, be it in Minecraft, outside, or tabletop. It’s hard to give exact time I started roleplaying, as a lot of it blended together during my earlier years of the hobby, so let’s say at least 5 years. As I mention, I play tabletop roleplay like Fate and DnD. Last year I started a roleplay club at school with my friend, and it went so successfully that we’re doing it again next year, and I plan to be a DM.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power gaming can take many different forms, and is not limited to MCRP. In a nut shell, power gaming is when a player does something that their character would not normally be able to do, OR, have their character be more powerful to win a fight (as they normally would not be)
In Minecraft, power gaming usually takes the form of players who get into RP fights that NEVER END, because they both want to win and they keep trying to one-up the other person when in reality their character would have been on the ground gasping for air.
In tabletop, power gaming often takes the form of creating a character that is primarily for the use of fighting and does not roleplay, or rather, they have the mindset that tabletop is like a video game, where they are pretty much guaranteed to succeed. I’m going to stop myself before I go into a rage rant.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: In a nutshell, metagaming is abusing information IC that was discussed out of game, I.E your character shouldn’t be able to hear past the fabric of time and space to know what’s in the next room without being told by an NPC or PC
Metagaming is a problem for anything roleplay, and exists as an anti-roleplay in a sense. It is very prevalent in both tabletop and MCRP.
-Character race: Half Elf (if you’ll alow it. If not, then high elf)
-Character age: 21
-Character Occupation: Bard/ Minstrel. She travels from place to place performing for he keep and getting paid in bread, bed and mead, instead of coin. (This will be more of a RP job as supposed to a mechanical one)
-Character description: As a young half elf, she stands about the height of an average human male. She has blonde hair and matching eyes in typical elf fashion. She has pointed ears but not to the degree of most elves, instead they are shorter and rounder like a humans, but still with an elven point. Similar to her ears, her skin colour is a mix of her human mother and elven father, resulting in a dominantly human shade with a bit of elven colour. She has a thin build that’s still just a bit thicker than an average elven woman. To sum up her physique, she’s as one would expect a half elf; not quite human, but not quite elf. Instead, drawing from both to create something new that is neither of her parent’s.
-Character personality and traits: First off, she’s of neutral good alignment, meaning she’s got a good heart, and doesn’t like to kill. (I realise that alignments aren’t really implemented in MCRP, but I just love them so much I give alignments to everything. It helps me RP better). Being 21, she’s still young for half elf standards, essentially making her a teen to the elves and a childish adult to the humans.
May is social and empathic to people; she likes when people are happy and keep an entertaining environment for people. Being young for an elf, she is a bit more childish and perhaps immature at time, but this also means she can be curious. She does not have much experience with weapons, she keeps a dagger, but it’s mainly for utility. Due to this, she doesn’t like fighting and prefers to talk her way out of a conflict as supposed to brawling.
However despite her social aptitudes and positive attitude, she is not just happy-go-lucky all the time, she can be upset, angry, or sad like everyone else.
-Character biography:
The rays of the moon shined down into the tavern. It was a relatively quiet night in terms of service. Not many people came at this time, except for the ones who wanted to forget, or were simply lost. May gazed around the room, many tables were placed around but few were occupied. She counted five people. It was nice having a bit of silent time to contrast the busy bustle of the day.
She continued to play her lute, which had wandered to a calmer, lower energy tune to reflect the atmosphere. As time went on, more people left until there were only three people; the owner, May and a lone man sitting at the fire whilst sipping a pint. May decided that the day was done, so she finished up her song with a few slow strums, and put her lute around her back. She wandered to the owner of the tavern to pick up the glass of ale she had earned for doing her job. She thanked the owner, and as she went over to a table, she heard the lone man clapping slowly.
“Brilliant song, young lady.” His voice was mid ranged, and it had a certain exotic slyness to it, like his voice dripped warm honey. “Come, sit with me by the fire” he patted the spot beside him on the wooden bench.
Curiously and wearily, May approached the bench and took a seat, the warm fire made her skin tingle in delight. She had not noticed how cold the room had been before now.
“Do tell me, what do you call that song?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“I don’t really have a name for it, I simply played what I felt around me” May replied, taking a sip of her own.
“Very interesting, and quite poetic. I would expect nothing less from a bard” his words of flattery sounded sweet to may.
“Thanks, I’m Mayrina by the way, but everyone calls me May”
“Greetings May. My name is too elaborate to expect anyone to remember. Please may, tell me about yourself.”
“Well… what do you want to know” May was a bit weary of this intrusive man, but she played along anyways.
“Why not start from the beginning?” he asked.
“Well, my father was an elf and my mother was a human” May began. “My father met my mother back when Barkamsted was about half its age, so… 34 years ago? Something like that at”
“Interesting, I knew I sensed something different about you. Please continue”
“Well, they knew each other for about ten years before they had me, after which they seemed to split apart..., at least that’s what mother told me. When I was five or six, my father left for some reason, and that time mother told me it was because the other elves didn’t approve of him. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I can’t say I really remember the guy anyways, at least not any good memories” May stopped to take a drink, and to give a chance for the man to add something, but he didn’t seem to speak up.
“Anyways, after father left we had to move to lower quality housing, as father provided most the money for the family. The kids I grew up around with were mostly elves, so mother forced me to wear a bandana over my ears so that the elf kids wouldn’t pick on me. They quickly found out about it though. So instead I avoided them and tried to be friends with the human kids, but they thought I was just going to be elitist like the elf kids and never gave me a chance. So there I was, stuck between two rocks.” May took a moment to gaze in the fire, as well as try to think what else to say”
“despite the fact that neither would take me in, I still tried to make friends, and eventually I found a friend in another half elf girl, who introduced me and taught me the basics of playing the lute, and without her I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” she begins to fiddle with the rope strap of her lute.
“I saved my money to buy my own lute, and begged the bards at taverns to teach me to play. Most didn’t, but some showed me a few neat tricks and tips. Again, I owe the ones that helped me for where I am today.”
“Once I was able to play decently, I started to play on the streets for money. I wasn’t greatly successful, that was until a hugely talented minstrel, who had worked for royalty, had taken me under his wing and as soon as I knew it, my training was done and I was working in taverns for my keep.” May finishes, and takes a large drink of her ale to wet her dried mouth.
The man looked to her “An interesting story I must say. But you didn’t seem to give a reason as to why you enjoyed music and performing.”
“Well… I suppose it’s because I wanted to play my part in bringing to mood of the town up, since we lost all our cities to the war. I figured I’d help cheer people up in my own way.”
The man smiles “A noble cause indeed.”
The two sit there in silence for some time before the man speaks up once more
“I’m afraid I must get going now, but for sharing your story with me, I want you to take this” the man hands her a short, but heavy metal finger with a fire insignia on it. “If you need a light, just use it” and with that, he left the tavern.
May finished up her ale, grabbed some bread for dinner and went to bed.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There are a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
As the little boy runs away, weaving through and under people’s legs, May gives slight chase of the boy. However, the amount of people in the market makes this a greatly difficult task, and she is unable to shove past most people, allowing the grungy faced boy to get away.
May lets out a sign. She’s doesn’t terribly need coin, as she works for her keep, but she can’t help but have a bad taste in her mouth. The so far good day had been dashed with a bitterness. Looking up, May pat her chest, feeling for the rope that binds her to her lute. As her fingers wrap around the rope, she lifts slightly and feels the heaviness of the instrument. As long as she still had her lute, she could face the world.
Besides, the kid was probably poor and needed money anyways. Who knows, he might go to the same bar she’s performing for, and maybe he’ll end up buying bread with her money. What a coincidence that would be.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
The sound of a lone lute plays along the forest path. May walks at a brisk pace to get to back to the tavern before everyone leaves, but she decided to warm her fingers up a bit before she got there. As she walked, she couldn’t help but hear a cry that didn’t seem quite right with her. She stopped playing her lute and looked around. What she saw disgusted her, and angered her.
She wearily approached the wolf in the trap, being careful not to frighten or aggravate the wolf. She thought back to when she overheard a table of people talking about the farmer, who had troubles with wolves. As she remembered, she considered backing out and ignoring them. However, when she saw the three pups her heart melted, and her goodness prevailed.
(Idk how to undo a bear trap, so just work with me a little here)
She carefully goes up to the bear trap and undoes it best she can (again, idk how), allowing the wolf to limp away as the three pups follow it. Feeling happy with herself, May returns to the road, hurrying to make up for lost time.
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: First things first, As a Half elf, she would have a high likelihood of having magic. Now with the obvious out of the way, she would like to be able to use just a modest amount of magic. She would use illusion magic to assist her performances, like adding a variety of colourful sparkles to catch people’s eyes and dazzle them. I’m not asking for anything big here, just a little dazzle for my bard.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: A player must know about a certain object to be able to use it properly and effectively. Not just anyone can pick up an enchanted staff and go all dumblepotterdolf on everyone. Using magic also requires effort, and too much use can tier someone out.
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: you can only use what you specialize in, using magic too much can be dangerous for health, and overusing/abusing artifacts can result in dangerous effects.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
(I’m going to do this through roleplay, if you’ll allow me)
May looks over the objects in her hands. She spins it, tosses it in the air a few times and gives it a perplexing look over. It’s a small, yet thick and heavy finer made of iron. It has an insignia on it in the shape of a flame. May thinks back to her day at the tavern, back to when she was given the metal trinket. She remembered what the man said quite fondly.
“If you need a light, just use it” the man who gave it to her had said. What the heck did that mean? She figured it must have been magic tool, as she had seen no openings or holes of which fire could come out of… or whatever the man meant by “a light”. After one last inspection, may decide to try it out.
Now she’s not had much experience with these magic trinkets, in fact she normally used small illusion spells for vanity sake, but she knew this was different, it was elemental, and it was functional.
She handled it in her palm, bringing it to her fingertips. She slowly began to focus. She imagined the magic ability swelling inside her core, churning and bubbling, waiting to be used. She then imagined herself guiding the magic up her arm and into her hand. She felt a tingling on her fingertips as the metal trinket began to warm up, and in an instant, a small flame, about the side of a candle was summon on the tip of the metal finger.
May smiled, and a burst of excitement came with the flame, as well and a surge of magic that seemed to rocket up her arm and into the flame finger.
Fire spewed out of the trinket, a good three times hotter and brighter than before. May felt a burning sensation whist holding the metal finer, and she dropped it quickly. She looked at her hand and saw it had minor burns on it, and she suddenly felt quite tuckered out, more so than she had already been. She kicked the magical metal finger and it slid across the room.
May laid her back on the bed and sleep came soon.
(out of character now)
It just occurred to me that I actually had to answer a question. Oh well, I had fun writing that little encounter. But anyways, basically you could do anything you normally could with a small, candle sized light. You could illuminate a small area or light something, however if it was a stronger trinket and didn’t burn your hands, than you could use it more long term and do things like cook with it or boil liquids.
Final note: This took me all night to finish, so my apologies if some things might not make sense. I did review it, but it was a rather rushed review. i just hope i can make the first event on time. sorry for the length of the app, but i just had so much fun making it. and thanks again for taking time to read it.
In the future I do suggest not rushing because it's noticeable with a few grammatical errors and missing words, but it is a well written application. Do note that the magic section of the application is for the potential to use magic. You will still have to come across the necessary trinkets ICly before being able to cast your preferred illusion magic. I will send you a Skype request to add you to the server group and we look forward to seeing you on the 24th!
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
(Previous post seems to have been completely removed. Not sure why, as there is no reply post and I received no messages. Posting again with some language toned down, in case that was the issue.)
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN:Ryycracker
-Skype name(Optional, for server chat):outlikehendrix
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I haven't been playing D&D since it was a pamphlet, but yes quite a bit. I've both run and played in several 3.5e D&D games (I'm currently in two), and I'm just breaking into the beautiful world of whitewolf with VtM (in one VtM game at the moment.) I've also rolled and played characters in two other Minecraft RP servers, Kingdom of Aeonis and Swords of Abreth. Neither left me aquiver and thirsty for more, but I'm crossing my fingers for a golden goose here.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
In my own words? "Heeeeuuurrghck." Power gaming is the roleplay equivalent of playing at dollies, or even solitaire. The key being that it takes other participants out of the equation. A power gamer removes agency from other players and gives it to themselves. The meat and bones of power gaming is always, without fail, *doing* rather than *attempting* where other characters are concerned, and power gaming taken to an extreme is essentially godmode.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
In short, it's the use of out of character knowledge to make in character decisions, deductions or power grabs. The scariest thing about meta-gaming, to me anyway, is how often it can get its hooks into decent people and great players. Often it starts innocently, say you need a very thinly veiled excuse to meet and travel with a party member, but it's a bad habit that can even put people in a situation where they forget how much information their character is actually privy to.
----IC Info----
-Character name:Rejora Magro de' Salvatici
-Character race:Dark Elf
-Character age:44
-Character Occupation(optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
Currently jobless, Rejora has a history with the war effort in Barkamsted. He has since left the resistance army of his own volition, however, for reasons described below.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Regrettably, the most noticeable physical trait to Rejora is the size of him. Standing at 5'3'', he has been considerably shorter than the other boys and men he counts among his peers for the duration of his life. Never the type for sloth and gluttony, nor heavy lifting, years of keeping on his toes and running from fights have rendered him quite thin with passable musculature at best. Strong and adept where jumping, climbing or running are concerned he falls far *short* ( ;D ) of handy where bearing the burden of anything greater than his own body weight is concerned. His eyes are a very deep red, the color of a garnet or deoxygenated blood, and his skin is a warm and earthy grey, just barely on the darker side of the spectrum between black and white. He has a rather thin and sharp face, and while he lacks the square features and strong jaw that make men, well, men, his elven blood still gave him his own sort of handsome in that he appears rather clever and mischievous. Some would liken him to a cat or bird, others would call him a rat. Several have.
Ever a convoluted personality, he favors simplicity in some aspects and complexity in others where his personal style and grooming are concerned. His hair is stark white, and he generally keeps it short. He's partial to an undercut hairstyle, the sides of his head shaved or sheared very close while growing out the top and slicking it back with perfumed oils. His only facial hair is a pair of very closely cut sideburns, which he shaves lines out of at intervals to create a striped look. He has a stylized tattoo of a star on his left bicep, elongated and done in white while forgoing the traditional five-pointed doodle to illustrate the sort of thing that stands out in the heavens, a guide star. He prefers function over form where clothing is concerned, and generally garbs himself in brown or black leather and cloth that fits snugly enough to avoid snagging but loosely enough to allow freedom of movement. When appearances are wanting and present or future company is worth the trouble, he has a few nicer and more vivid silk garments in his collection, as well as a modest assortment of silver and white gold jewelry. Whatever the occasion, however, one element of his dress remains universal. His boots are always platformed, with bottoms one or two inches thicker than the work of most cobblers. It's far less subtle than he thinks it is, and he ardently denies it whenever they are mentioned.
-Character personality and traits(At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Rejora carries with him a temper shorter than he is, and has a whole basket of chips slung over his shoulder. He's wondered more than he cares to admit whether life is a conspiratory force dedicated to denying him the things he desires. With the high elves ever overhead, the glow of their lanterns lighting his dreams and aspirations afire each night, he has always had an intense passion for all things magical, and likewise a fascination with ancient artifacts. However, being a dark elf, it was made painfully clear from a very young age that he would never be capable of bending reality in such a fantastic manner. It was not long before the magical gleam of his high elven brothers and sisters became a source of resentment, rather than inspiration. They were living above it all whilst he was dragging his feet in the dirt, and it certainly didn't help that they were so tall.
His height is a constant and physical reminder of his shortcomings (hah!), and an incredibly hot button for him. He often overcompensates for his stature by taking unnecessary risks, biting off more than he can chew, and generally writing checks with his mouth that his ass can't cash. Born to an old family with high blood but little coin and no land since The Pact invasion, and even then the third son in line, he feels he has been three times cheated by his birth. A runt with no gold and no magical talent.
Despite his bitterness and short fuse, he's a good sort at heart. Still, he recognizes the line between kindness and folly, and always errs on the side of caution and pragmatism over altruism. A true utilitarian. If not for his own battered ego and pride he would be a very careful elf indeed.
-Character biography(At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
"Look, just there Rej. Lankies are putting out the lights for the night. Time for bed."
Childhood was a rough but important time for Rejora. It was in games and scraps with the other elven children that he learned his place. He was the last in line, the least of his kind, and the bottom rung on a ladder riddled with splinters. Not everything was sour in his youth, however. When bitterness is all someone has, they have two choices. They can make their own joy, or, in Rejora's case, find it. Fate is the master of irony, and so it happened that this joy came in the form of a young high elven boy. The child's name was Corinaith Arrynlocke, eldest and only son of the Arrynlocke clan. Corinaith was well liked by the other children. He was handsome, tall, smart, quick, and strong. It helped that his parents were just as well liked by most adults, and the whole family was wealthy to boot. Despite all this, the high elf was a very humble child, and quick to befriend even the pariah that was Rejora, the runt of the broken house Salvatici. The pair became very close indeed, and grew into young men in good company.
"Get up, you lazy ****! Don't you do this, I'll drag you back to Syra if I have to!"
When at last the two friends were grown they arrived squarely at a crossroad. Rejora's education had been nothing spectacular. He was a bright boy, but his family wasn't able to afford many opportunities for the third son. Still, old blood has some connections, and he had options for apprenticeship with a handful of craftsmen in Barkamsted. Corinaith was another story, however. His father had an illustrious military career behind him, and gold enough to set Corin on the path to a rich future in mercantile endeavors. The young men had other plans, however. They had talked extensively of joining the resistance army since they were boys, and no amount of pleading from the parents Arrynlocke nor Salvatici could avail. They were still young, brash, and hungry for glory. Drunk on dreams of reclaiming the old forests they enlisted together. Despite his initial warnings against his son's joining, Corinaith's father had his son's safety first in his mind. He used his pull with the military to have Corin made an officer, hoping this would help to keep him out of the ugliest fights. Rejora, due to his size, build, and natural darksight was a natural candidate for the scout corps. To his glee, he found this actually earned him a considerable deal of respect, which served as a pleasant surprise. The scouts were widely considered equal parts brave and insane. They were the first line, alone and ahead of even the vanguard. Horror stories reached Rejora of scouts who had ridden over hills only to find scores of orcs, bored and thirsty for blood. They spoke of bodies wearing the scout regalia mangled, flattened and oozing at the bottom of depressions that could only be the footprints of thirty foot trolls. Young Rej was scared, certainly, but he could never let it show. He was finally a part of something larger than himself and Corin, and accepted by his brothers and sisters in arms. He would ride into a troll's mouth if it meant he could feel that tall forever.
As luck would have it, Rejora's branch of the scout corps were assigned to field ahead for the regiment that was under the command of Corinaith, so even now the two were never far from one another. They spent several years in service of reclaiming the old territories, but each time they had laid claim to a swathe of land The Pact was quick to reclaim it, always pushing back against the meager forces under Alliance command. Still, hope lay ahead. Though they spent several months at a time afield, they were often recalled to Barkamsted for rest and resupply. On one such return trip they had caught word of the development of cannons. Command gave the order to scout and mark small, defensible areas which could be fortified with makeshift walls and cannons to serve as bases of operation and lines of defense for the reclamation effort. Rejora's branch was one of the few assigned to this task, with Corinaith and his regiment overseeing the defense of the areas they found.
It was on a foggy evening in the plains that Corin learned of the impending disaster. Word had just come into camp, a report from a different scout corps branch. Visual contact with the enemy had been established, a contingent of a couple dozen orcs and a troll. Normally this was no cause for concern, a blip in The Pact army and easily routed if the move was planned properly and executed with enough bodies. However, upon reflection, Corinaith recognized the area the enemy was spotted in. If they continued as they were, Rejora's branch was sure to encounter them. Matters were made worse by the terrain. The plains had many hills, and a fair number of them lay between the scouts and The Pact. They would not be wise to the danger until The Pact was upon them, and it would be far too late for them at that point. Seeing no other course of action, Corinaith rallied his men and personally led them against the enemy.
This, however, would prove a grave mistake. Rejora woke with a start in his makeshift shelter to the sounds of battle. The glow of fire was just over the hill, and he was up and running the moment his brain had processed what was happening. He came upon a scene of butchery. Perhaps a dozen orcs lay dead or dying in the tall grass, and easily two score soldiers for the resistance army were decomposing with them. The hill was aflame, the blaze spreading through the tall brown grass at an alarming rate, already consuming some of the bodies and filling the air with the stench of death. A handful of orcs were fleeing the scene, eager to get away from the flames. They did not notice the scout. His eye was drawn to a huge mass of grey flesh and grisly wounds. He waited a few moments for the last of The Pact to run off, and when they did quickly made his way down the hill, skirting the flames and checking for survivors along the way to what he soon saw was the corpse of a troll. It was there that he saw the limp figure of Corinaith, hand still clinging to a longsword lodged in the great beast's gut. He rushed to the soldier, checking him for signs of life. He still drew breath, though it was shallow. His pulse was weak. Rejora could find no obvious wounds. No cuts, no gashes, no missing limbs. He spent the remainder of that night fleeing the fire as he weakly half-carried, half-dragged Corinaith with him all the way back to camp.
"I don't want to be a burden, Rej. I'm sorry. Don't let Syralei throw everything away for me. Keep her on the straight and narrow."
Corinaith lived, but he was a broken, shattered man. What Rejora's eyes had missed soon everyone could see. The dark elf's childhood friend would never walk again, never even sit up on his own. Once the apple of everyone's eye, now useless from the neck down. Rej took it upon himself to bring the now retired officer, and the news, home to the Arrynlocke family. Being used to dark looks and disdainful reproach did nothing to prepare him for what awaited them upon their return. Corinaith's father had the full story, and naturally laid the blame at Rejora's feet. It was him, after all, that Corin had been trying to save. Corin was defending Rej all the while, but it did little good to try and be heard over the sound of his father's screaming, and his sister and mother's wails.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. It did nothing for Corinaith's condition. Rejora couldn't bear to visit for some time, not for the wroth of his friend's parents but because he simply couldn't bear to see the high-elf in that condition. A great man, bedridden and soiling himself. His room stunk of sweat, tears, and ****. He couldn't stay away, though. He'd resigned from the army months ago, and he couldn't bear the guilt or the loneliness any longer. Despite his misgivings, these visits helped, and time at least healed some wounds. At Corin's bedside Rej began talking extensively with his sister, Syralei, as well as the cripple himself. As a boy Rejora hadn't thought much of Syra. She had often seemed in a world of her own, distant and often in the background, or speaking of old and dusty things that had little bearing on the present day. Now, though, with the both of them tied to that horrible room he found some comfort in her. She was every bit as amicable as her brother, to be sure, if a bit less outgoing. She poured herself into her studies, always, and her willingness to get her hands dirty in the field for the sake of her research earned her a great deal of respect from the dark elf. It helped that they had like interests, and though she was curious at to why he was interested in magic and the ancients despite being unable to use them, she did not laugh when his answer was simply that he wished he could.
So it was that Rejora found another friend, once more amongst the people he so often spited out of envy. Given time, the pair began to speak of searching for these ancient artifacts together. Syra was excited at the prospect of new finds, advancements in her field, and contributions to Barkamsted's struggle. Rej too saw the value in this. After what had happened he couldn't commit to joining up with the army again, but he was eager to do what he could all the same. All said, the pair made a natural team when it came to their searches. Between Syralei's time in academia and magical talent, and Rejora's military, combat, and scouting experience their skillsets complimented one another, and both shared a passion for the uncovering of ancient truths and treasures. Together they set out with these ends in mind, and often come home to Barkamsted with a story or two for Corinaith.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.(At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
The dark elf spun on heel to try and catch the urchin by the arm. Failing that, he watched him go. The child had picked the wrong person to rob, and he was like to find less copper in that purse than he would in a begging tin. In truth Rejora had room for a bit of pity in his heart. His guard against such things was usually superb, and a child that adept at sleight of hand had to have a mighty need. Still, he'd seen him come and go, and he had a face. Where raw dexterity had failed him his wits would see that the same child wouldn't catch him on a day more flush.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
A mix of fear and excitement crossed Rejora's features at his latest discovery. He had to be careful about how he approached this, an animal is never more dangerous than when it's cornered or defending young, and both cases were true here. He couldn't get close enough for a clean cut, an arrow would have to do. A hole in the head meant a lower price, this mother wouldn't be anyone's rug. Still, if his hand was steady enough she could be someone's coat. The string strummed and the shaft whistled to signal a clean shot between the wolf's eyes. The dark elf gave it a moment to be sure it was well dead, and got to work. He had to travel light if he wanted to make good time, and the amount of meat on the mother would either go bad before he got back to Barkamsted or simply never be eaten. He settled for her skin, leaving the rest of her for the pack that was doubtlessly nearby. The pups would come in handy, light but fatty from mother's milk. He thought as he gave them quick deaths by his knife that Syra might think less of him for it, but were the roles reversed they certainly wouldn't be nursing him to health, let alone their mother. Inside the city walls were one thing, but out here in the trees and hills a snack was a snack. At least he could give them the mercy of steel, a measure of shelter from the cold and hungry death they faced otherwise.
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): (I have one but don't feel like skype chat atm, sorry >_> ) -Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
3 years of roleplaying but covered with a history of random hiatus and server shutdowns. Mostly played medieval/fantasy type settings while experiencing a fallout and steampunk setting once. Notable servers were MCKingdoms, Silver Gaming Servers (Book of Halegron, Shrine of the Ancients, The Wayward Ones), The Last Ark, MCDieval.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Forcing an action on a player that is difficult/impossible to react to. Eg: Chops head off with one stroke
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Using Out-of-context information while In Character.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Fhia
-Character race: Human
-Character age:20
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing at 5"2, Fhia is plain looking, almost like every other woman you can find on the streets. Black haired, average height, no prominent features to make her stand out.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
With the last two years of service as a servant, Fhia is able to make forced smiles seem normal and assume different identities to match different situations. Also she is able to keep a household clean and in order and as a servant should, serve the needs of a master that hires her services.
However, her true personality is cold and paranoid from the betrayals in her life. She find it extremely hard to trust what anyone says and she dislikes the high elves. She is also a cold-blooded killer, unfazed by blood and would not question or hesitate when killing someone. Her justification for killing someone is largely based on vengeance and hatred but it is rather rare for her to actually want to kill.
Being uneducated, she is unable to read and write and her running speed and stamina is relatively low but to make up for it, she has upper body strength from two years of work. She is unfamiliar with weapons with the exception of knives.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
“Impudent servant! I asked for the freshest fruit.”
A pear came flying in her direction and knowing better than to dodge it, she lets it hit her head and bounce off.
“Don’t you dare return until you get it.”
The arrogant high elf shouted from his seat on his elegant armchair. Picking up his wine glass from the table, he raised it to his lips but before he took a sip, he warned his servant before dismissing her.
“If you don’t return, you can say good bye to that pesky brat.”
Head bowed, the servant left, ensuring that the door was closed, that the high elf was out of sight before smiling bitterly to herself.
‘I already did that a while ago.’
*******
“Sis, where are we going?”
Ignoring her little sister, she held onto the tiny hand tight with her right while in her left, whatever she could have taken that seemed of value before she ran out of the house.
“Sis, will Papa come find us?”
‘If he comes and find us, he won’t just sell us off’ The older sister thought as she pulled her younger sibling away from the abode they formerly called home. Ever since mother moved out of the house because of the irresponsible father, he had been throwing away at the underground gambling dens that have sprang out. However, having recently lost most of his savings, with almost everything of value from the house sold off, there were only a few expendable resources he were willing to give up for more money. Such as his two daughters but the older one found out about it after a druken stupor the before.
“Sweaty fig! Money for two girls! If only I had more! Sweaty Fig!” he had shouted the whole night.
Gritting her teeth as she remembered the gleeful look on the dirty man’s face as he skipped around the living room, she did not notice the figure stepping out from the alley in front of her.
“Stupid girls.”
Clarity returning to her, she looked up at the figure and saw a rusty metal pipe quickly approaching her face. But her little sister pulled her down to dodge the blow. Only the older sister dodged the blow.
*Crack*
The wet feeling of blood was a horrible experience as it flowed freely down the older sister’s face. Her mouth opened in an attempt to form words, to console her, to tell her that this was a dream but the shock was too much. The attacker placed his foot on the back of the younger sister to push her off. Waking up from her frozen state of mind, despair took over as she desperately reached from one of the items she had taken out of the house. The kitchen knife. The attacker however, unfazed by the knife loosely held by the shaking girl reached forward to pluck it out of her hands.
“S..Sis, you okay?”
Hearing the weak voice, her shaking hand steadied and shot upwards. And in that direction was a throat and out of it came more blood.
*******
Far away from where the town bells rang, Fhia was carrying the limp, breathing body of her younger sister on her back. Her upper body soaked in blood, she was lucky to have covered a significant distance from the scene of the crime. However, her luck was running low. The sun was rising and with it, there would be people and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that a blood-soaked individual and one murder would have a link.
“And who do we have here?”
Cold sweat broke out as she realised that she had been discovered by someone.
“It seems you have nowhere to run, what would happen if I call the guards here?”
Behind here, someone placed a hand on her shoulder and a head appeared beside her. She could see the pointed ears of an elf.
“If you become my servant, I will ensure that you two human trash get to see another day.”
*******
Knocking on the door, Fhia re-entered the room and brought a new fruit platter for her elf master. Placing it on the table in front of him, she took a step away from the table.
“Took you long enough, stupid human.”
The high elf reached forward to take one of the fruits but then switched to slapping Fhia.
“Fool. Have you no sense to cut the fruit open? Do it now.”
Holding up the fruit in front of Fhia, she took out a knife and approached her master. After having already killed once before, a second time wouldn’t be that hard plus, she hated the elf enough that his death wouldn’t matter to her … much.
Smiling, walking towards her defenceless victim, she began counting.
“3.” The knife sank into one eye and the un-suspecting elf screamed in pain and fell off his chair, clutching his punctured eye with both hands.
For his three empty promises of calling a doctor and insisting that there were none free.
“2.” The knife pierced the other eye and the agony intensified.
For the two years that he had them trapped here, unable to leave because of her younger sister’s injury.
“1” The knife entered the throat, ending the last breath of life.
For the one and only sister he had taken away from her.
*******
It was not right at all but in order to live, Fhia had to use her sister’s body to cover her tracks. Positioning the two corpses of the dead elf and girl to make it seem like a fight, it would be hard to suspect another person involved.
With nothing left on her, no family name, nothing but the clothes on her, she was free to roam Barkamsted again.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.) You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Looking at the child running away, Fhia memorizes how the boy looks like and leaves, knowing it would be pointless to chase as she was not very good at running. For the next few days, Fhia stands at the market in a hooded cloak, watching the passer-bys waiting for one in particular. Her waiting pays off as on the third day, a familiar looking boy was relieving another victim of their purse. Concentrating only on his prize, he did not notice the hooded girl and so, grabbing the collar of his shirt, Fhia pulls him into a nearby alley and to encourage him to follow, she exposes the small knife in her other hand to him before quickly hiding it.
In the quiet, dark alley where no one would interrupt her, she corners the boy against the wall, casually holding a knife in her hand.
"Stealing my purse is not a good idea."
Moving closer to the boy, he cowers and kneels down, not daring to shout. Smiling that the thief understands, Fhia bends down, putting the knife against his cheek.
"Cause if you do it again," a bead of blood forms at where the knife is pressed against his skin.
"This sister won't be nice."
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
There was no other choice. Fhia had no idea how she would take care of three wolf puppies even if she wanted to. The only thing she could offer this unlucky family was a quick death. Carefully approaching the adult wolf, keeping her forced smile up and her hands up, it gave no resistance. Bending down as if to check the trap, Fhia takes out a knife from her sleeve and slits the wolf's throat. Blood spilled out, coating the grey puppies with crimson red.
"S..Sis.You okay?"
The terrible memory of an old incident in her past sprang up in her mind as she watched the little puppies rub their bodies against their dead parent. Grabbing each puppy she covered each of their faces with a cloth and snuffed them out, all the while regretting her actions and enduring her painful heart
Only fill out if you want your character to have magic capabilities. If you do not fill this out then your character will be incapable of performing any form of magic. Also note that it will take significant in character practice and experience to become any form of proficient in magic.
(We only accept high quality magic applications!) _______________________________________________________________________ ( If magic app doesn't succeed, I'm okay with not having magic.)
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: -Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic:
For personal reasons, I haven't played a character with magic since three years ago so I'm aching to try it out again. For character reasons, Fhia is likely going to play the role of a villain/anti-hero so magic would I feel make RP more interesting. Also with a rather morbid history, dark magic is likely the choice of magic for Fhia and with it being illegal, she can easily fit the villain/anti-hero role easier.
Magic is difficult to use in combat as it takes longer to cast. Also, repeatedly using magic will cause mental fatigue which may result in death upon further usage.
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words:
Instead of typing commands to cast spells, searching for characters/items that can teach spells without any consequence, magic are cast through items (artifacts) that can not be created and would mostly be one-of-a-kind.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
Bargaining with the black market dealer, he was obviously cheating her abit too much. Sure in a black market some absurd prices can be expected but paying 10 times the price for wine was just way too much. And it was not just one merchant but every single dealer in the black market. Frowning in displeasure, Fhia explored the dark street, looking to find one stall that sold cheaper wine. However even as she reached the end of the street there was no difference. Looking into one of the alleyways, she found one merchant sitting on a clothe carpet, his goods laid out in front of him.
"Gracious man, how much would that bottle of wine cost?"
Fhia tried flattering the seller, pointing to the bottle of wine.
"That would be xxx lady. Don' expect discounts. Ain't running a charity here."
Making sure that the alleyway was empty, Fhia bent down till she was face to face with the merchant.
"Don't be a spoilsport! Just this once?"
Fhia asked once more, putting on her forced smile and casual tone.
"Take it or leave it, and I suggest you leave it."
He signals with his thumb out of the alleyway. Having lost her patience, she put her hand on the dealer's shoulder. Concentrating fiercely on the trinket, she aimed its magical energies at her hand.
"You have 5 seconds. After that, I'll burn you to a crisp. You know what is magic right?"
The dealer's eyes widened as he did indeed feel his previously cold shoulder get warmer. Hurriedly, he offered the bottle of wine.
"Here just take it! Don't come back!"
He pushed the hand off his shoulder and cowered against the wall, wishing for Fhia to leave.
"Thank you!" She smiled. Putting her warm hand against her cold face, she laughed to herself silently as her trick had worked.
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): pandalurvssheep
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: I have a lot of RP experience, though that doesn't mean that I'm any good. I've been RPing on and off for about five years now, originally on the forums of a site that is now nothing more but broken code, and then again on Aeonis as Aeira. When Aeonis ended, I moved on to less satisfactory RP servers, and then onto Tumblr as an OC, a femslash, and then another OC, and then again on a Minecraft server, SoA.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: I always get the two mixed up, but I think power-gaming is when you do things to characters without their permission, and you are also god-like and impossible to defeat.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is when you use information you have gained OOCly as information your character knows, and can use and abuse.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Aster
-Character race: Dark Elf
-Character age: 57
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): -
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Aster is a female with a lean muscular build, used to running long distances to escape hordes of monsters or deliver goods. Her ears droop low and are four inches long. She is 5'8", and weighs around 140 lbs. Her thighs and calves are her strong point, and so her lower body is more muscular than her upper body. She has white hair with a slight hint of grey, which has been cut short to be out of her way. Her skin in very dark, a few shades up from onyx, but very dark none the less, and her body is riddled with small burn scars, as well as cuts from thorns hitting her during runs. Her eyes are a bright red which could be called scarlet, and are a narrow shape. Her nose is rather large, and her lips are thin. Her cheekbones are high and her jaw is square, making her face somewhat large and unfriendly looking.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Aster isn't always friendly to people, as people aren't always friendly to her, but she's nice enough, and curious for information, sometimes too curious. She spends a lot of time alone, preferring not to listen to idle chatter, but isn't so much of a loner that she never talks to anyone. She could be considered somewhat of a silent observer, taking the passive stance in most conversations, especially if there's more than one person she's in a conversation with. She enjoys books, but when reading, does not like company, therefore, she is rarely seen reading by anyone else. Aster has a dislike for water, and tries to avoid larger bodies of water if at all possible. But, her hatred of water does not outweigh her practicality of going from point A to point B, and she will cross water if that will make her get where she's going faster, albeit with a displeased expression.
Aster also dislikes wide open spaces, and becomes hyper-vigilant when exposed to them, preferring the cramped woods to open fields, and when upset can be found curled up tightly in the smallest space she can fit into. She doesn't always outwardly show emotions, but when she feels the moment is right, will loudly proclaim her opinion on a subject matter, especially if she feels she or those she holds close to her have been wronged. She also rarely ingests alcohol, but is a boisterous, happy drunk, which is probably why she tries to avoid getting drunk in the first place. Fire makes Aster feel nervous, and it shows, as she immediately becomes uncomfortable around open flame. She has a love for nature and for animals, and tries to be as conscientious of keeping nature as clean as possible, and has been seen feeding birds. However, she will still cut down trees and hunt animals if asked. Her personality makes her a good keeper of secrets and a good guardsman. Aster does not get along well with children.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experience): Born during the 70 Year War, Aster's family had fled to Barkamsted when her mother became pregnant. Never knowing of life beyond Barkamsted, Aster lived with her family in the house that her father had built with her two elder brothers for quite a time. Her father and eldest brother worked for the city to help build defenses against the Pact, as well as designing and building houses for the refugees that could not build their own. Aster grew up happy, though she started running supplies to the builders and various craftsmen as soon as she was able, to help out as best as the child could. Though the high elves didn't want her family's help, the humans were grateful for any assistance given in these troubling times. She made friends with the other children that were doing the same thing that she was, though with her senses and stamina she was one of the best 'runners' Barkamsted had.
At the age of 13, Aster started learning how to fight from her mother, how to slink in the shadows, how to use the trees for cover when fighting, and how to protect her family and the city alongside her siblings. Though she was going through training, she was still running supplies for the various craftsmen of the city, which had grown into an actual city as more refugees arrived from the war-torn land. As she trained, her muscles became more firm, especially those in her legs, due to their constant use, and Aster became able to travel for longer and longer distances, though she was deemed not old enough to yet leave to look for supplies by herself. When she was 22, Aster discovered her younger brother playing with some flint and steel. Though she tried to keep the fire tool away from him, when she left for the day to run supplies and find out where he stole it from, her brother set her house on fire. Hearing of her house being set ablaze, she returned as fast as she could to her home. She went into the blaze to salvage what she could, and to rescue her brother, who was at the center of it all. Though she was able to save her brother, and some possessions, almost everything her family owned went up in smoke. Already a quiet child, Aster stopped speaking for a couple years. The fire changed her family's dynamic, and it changed Aster, who blamed herself for not being able to stop her brother from messing with the fire starting materials. They had to reside with the neighbors while the home was rebuilt and the family tended to their burns. Aster herself had several burns from recklessly diving into the burning home to retrieve her brother and what little she did salvage. She couldn't even bear to look at her younger brother for a couple of months, as the family spiraled into a depression. Even now, years later, Aster swears sometimes that she can still smell the smoke on her skin. The house was rebuilt, and her family moved back in, but the damage had been done. It took years to rebuild the amount of possessions they had had before the fire, and the relationships between the family members were damaged irreparably.
Aster moved out of the house when she turned 35, into a smaller house that she could have all to herself. The furnishings were somewhat spartan, as she didn't want or need much. It was then that she started heading out into the wilds to provide supplies for Barkamsted, and would leave for weeks at a time, only to come back with scouting information and anything she could find. Being able to sneak and run fast made her a great unofficial scout, and she was hired officially at 42, though she still continued to supply the city with the goods that she could feasibly carry with her in her bag and also remain as unencumbered as possible. Aster was a pretty good fighter, and had enough common sense to not engage anyone she came across while away from the city. After several years of doing this, she suddenly quit one day, five years ago. It's not as if it really mattered in the grand scheme of things, though some of the older humans missed seeing her, and she retreated into her house for a while, only leaving when she absolutely had to. No lights were ever on in her house, and if Aster didn't leave every once in a while, she would have been presumed dead. She started leaving her house again a few months ago, with as much reason as she had for holing up in the first place, and started doing odd jobs around town. Things had changed during the years that she was disconnected from the world, and she couldn't wait to find out how.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Aster immediately sprints after the child, shoving past the crowds, nose flared and eyes narrowed, legs longer and faster than the child's, and therefore quickly catches up to the little thief. She tackles the child without further ado, scraping her elbows against the ground, which start to bleed. "How dare you?" She snarls, furiously snatching her coin purse from little shaking hands, the human child's eyes wide and watering at the force with which he was slammed into the ground. "Know better." She glares at the human, voice harsh, before she removes her body from his and nimbly gets up and storms away.That's enough of the outside world for today.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
((Assuming that the mother wolf is still alive))
Aster kneels down next to the wolf, petting her flank with soothing hands. "I am sorry." She mumbles respectfully, prying open the bear trap and moving the wolf's leg from it, making soft shushing noises the entire time. Rummaging around in her bag, she removes bandages from it and quickly wraps up the leg. Though not knowing much besides some first aid, she feels to see if the bone is broken. Since as far as she can tell it is not, thankfully, the bone does not have to be set, and the mother should be able to move slowly on its own. As the mother heals her leg, she returns several times to check up on the wolf and its pups, and to bring game if necessary. The smallest pup, unfortunately, dies, but as is the way of the world.
((I hope all of this is okay, and I hope to be accepted, your server sounds really cool!))
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat):etchedinstone111
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?:
Yes, I have played on many rp servers, holding many rp roles, from playing villains to leading cities. If needed, I can provide a list of servers I have played on.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words
Putting your actions upon other characters, giving them no chance to react. One example being emoting killing somebody, instead of ATTEMPTING to kill somebody.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using information you obtained Out of Character in an IC situation. One example could be that you hear of another player's character's weakness in a skype chat, and then exploit this weakness on the server, though your character never heard of the weakness.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Oliver Malkan
-Character race: Human
-Character age: 30
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Oliver Malkan constantly wears a hood, and often sports clothing that covers his entire body, barring his eyes. Upon his face he has facepaint covering the left side of his face. All of Oliver's clothing has a general blood-red coloring theme, including the climbing bracers on his forearms, and his climbing boots. He is of an average build, but has excellent stamina and upper body strength due to his time running through forests hunting with his bow.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Oliver Malkan cares little for others. His trust is hard-won, and even when he trusts you, he will rarely put his life on the line to save you. Ever a lone wolf, Oliver Malkan only looks out for himself, and will do anything in his power to get what he wants, provided that he doesn't get caught breaking the rules. Devious and cunning, Oliver enjoys toying with the emotions of others, often blackmailing them to bend them to his will. However, he is very capable of feigning interest
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Oliver Malkan was once a simple hunter, who lived in a small village with his wife. But this humble life would not stay with Oliver forever. One day, upon returning to his village from a weeklong hunting excursion, Oliver entered the clearing to find a world of rubble and ruin. Evidently, someone had raided his village, and spared nobody. Oliver sat in the ashes of the home he had shared with his wife. His best friend, his wife of 5 years, lay dead before him, her life having escaped her from the bloody smile-like crescent cut on her throat. Seeking to escape the pain of this place, Oliver travelled far away from his longtime home, overcome with anger, a sense of helplessness, and grief.
Eventually, this anger and helplessness turned into a form of madness. Oliver trusts nobody, and doesn't allow himself to feel emotions. His ultimate goal is to rid the world of people who he disagrees with. These days that mainly involves bandits, though anyone who stands in the way of his vengeance. Through his travels Oliver has been forged into a master of stealth and climbing, as well as subterfuge and manipulation.
Eventually, Oliver's travels lead him to the realm of Saphriel, where he now plans to spread his influence and find out who razed his village those many years ago.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Oliver Malkan would smile, turning towards the direction the child ran off in. He would do his best to keep up with the child, finding the location of their home if possible. Afterward, Oliver would sneak in, stealing back his coin purse, as well as anything of value in the hut. Following this he would most certainly set fire to the location, and when the child returned Oliver would use the distraction of the flame to sneak up near the child and end their life. Oliver would stand above the child as the blood pools from the crescent on the child's neck, and simply say "You should have run faster" before tossing the corpse into the flaming home.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Given that Oliver has a love of nature and animals, he would do his best to save the mother wolf. If this isn't possible, he would end her suffering and bury her, and would afterward attempt to care for the small pups. He could try to raise them to assist him in hunting, but if this wasn't possible he'd send them out in the wild to live on their own.
(Sorry that my biography is terrible and short, as well as the rest of my application. I fractured my thumb a few weeks ago, and typing with a cast is not only arduous, but uncomfortable and tedious.)
We're sorry, but we don't feel that this character fits the theme that we have in mind for the server. We'd prefer not to have a character running around who can RPly kill anyone that makes them angry. I appreciate the effort that has been put into the application and I'm sorry that it's been denied. We'll happily reconsider if you submit another character that is perhaps more toned down and fits the theme of the server a bit better.
A well written application, your character doesn't like too much does she? Hopefully you won't avoid everyone, you'll never RP that way. I'll be sending you a Skype request to add you to the server and we look forward to seeing you on the server soon! The first event will be July 26th around 4PM.
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): superskype727
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I play on Lord of the craft and on Planes of Shireli
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Going past your charter limits and per say “powering” up your chacter to do amazing stunts or actions he wouldn’t be able to do. Also swings your sword and emoting just killing the person rather than giving them a chance EXP: “Steve swings his sword at Bob killing bob”
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using out of chacter information to your advantage like exposing this guy as a werewolf that told you on TeamSpeak or something
----IC Info----
-Character name: Krodin Elderwood
-Character race: High Elf
-Character age: 50
-Character Occupation: Krodin does not really have a job. He hunts artifacts and tries to follow his dreams of becoming a powerful being but is known around the city to do odd jobs that people need done. Or anything he can make a quick buck for even “Borrowing” /// if that doesn’t work than an enchanter
-Character description- Krodin Elderwood is a lean 6ft 5 high elf. His hair is blonde and his eyes are a darker baby blue. Krodin often wears casual clothes mostly the color of black and red. Krodin’s face has a bit of an annoyed tone on it when talking to most people. He is on the lean but muscular side but not able to lift something very heavy. His face looks a quite wary
-Character personality and traits: Krodin's doesn't know when to quit he is ignorant and will do many things for gain. Sometimes Krodin doesn't know when to be serious or when he is beat. Krodin is a rather shallow person in general but when warms up to someone he is quite kind. Krodin has a friendly outside most people will think he is a good person. Krodin is sometimes ignorant of others emotions and feelings.
-Character biography: Krodin was born into a well set off family. He doesn’t have a father since he left when he was very young. While growing up Krodin was rather aggressive with other children, with no prominent father and his mother light hearted he grew up untamed. Ever since the age of 15 Krodin could be reading about the gods and magic. He was enthralled at theses tails of beings of great power and he has seeked to gain power since then.
When Krodin reached the age of 30 he moved out of his mother’s home and went off on his own. He bought a house/business place in a settlement some distance away. Krodin happy to finally be on his own had realized something… He has no trade! Worried about cash Krodin asks around town if anyone had odd jobs for him to do for cash. Surprisingly people did have a lot of odd tasks for him to do like lumberjacking, farming and some carpeting. Krodin now decided he has enough money to peruse his own goals like enchanting. Krodin has had poor gaps in between the jobs in theses “Gaps” Krodin would resort to thievery and is sort of a habit of his.
Krodin is now 50 he is using Enchanting as a sort of hobby to support his other interests. These other interests include: Treasure hunting, Artifacts hunting and general knowledge gathering. Krodin is now pursuing Artifacts and magic with little success, turns out that artifacts are rarer than he thought. Krodin is still doing odd jobs now and also his other “hobbies”. Krodin still thieves whenever he can find an easy target such as an open window with no one around.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
Krodin noticing the kid running with his coin purse rushes after him. After out running the kid and tackling him near the town fountain he snatches his purse and looks upon the kid. Krodin feels anger but also a little pity. Yelling at the kid and threating to break his fingers if he does such a thing again, He gives the kid a few coins hopping that is enough to feed him.
Krodin hearing whines while walking in the forests comes to check what is making such squeals. He stumbles upon a mother wolf trapped and her baby cubs surrounding her. He picks up the cubs one by one putting them in an empty sack. They will make good hunting wolves later and maybe I could get the farmer to give me money so I don’t get my wolves to hunt on his land. As for the mother, Krodin knows she wouldn’t be able to live out here so instead of letting her starve Krodin nox an arrow in his bow, aims, and fires hitting the wolf in the head wanting her not to whimper from a slow death. Krodin gets the pelt from the mom and his on his way to town with the intention of selling the pelt.
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: Magic rp, Treasure hunting and general lore of the topic has been some of the best rp experiences I have had
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: The power of the magic you use is based upon the artifact you have thus even a Uber all mighty mage can’t do a lot with a basic trinket. Also mages aren’t the strongest of people generally relying on magic rather than physical labor
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: Everyone has “Magic” inside of them although few know how to control it or let it flow out of their body. It does depend how proficient you are with magic to what level artifacts you can use but even a powerful mage can’t do a lot of a basic trinket.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket: I decided to write a little showing what I could do
Krodin putting on the basic fire ring looks ahead of himself. Krodin sighs “I can do this.” After breathing in and out for some time Krodin tightens his hand and points it at the candle sitting on the stand in his room. A small flame appears at the candle lighting it. After a few minutes of heavy breathing he is amazed at what he just did Krodin looks upon the flame, proud.
This application is lacking in a couple areas. I would greatly appreciate expansion on character personality and traits as well the character biography. Remember, the biography needs to be at least three paragraphs, while I would barely consider that one paragraph. You may either edit your current post or post another application. If you edit the current one please send me a message, otherwise I may not notice. When these changes are made we will gladly reconsider accepting you onto the server and I wish you the best of luck with your writing.
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): (Will PM if accepted)
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: I played on the Lord of the Craft server as multiple characters for many months (quit because some of the staff were breaking rules).
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is pretty much being forceful with your RP, or go for a specific goal and ignore important parts of the RP process. For example you cannot run up to someone, kill them, and walk away as simple as that.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is the act of mixing OOC and IC. For example, if someone was to type something and their name is revealed, a stranger cannot call that person by their name without them telling them ICly.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Nervarn Adler
-Character race: Dwarf
-Character age: 74
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): Nervarn used to be a miner in his younger years, and is currently a black smith.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Nervarn is a 4'3" Dwarf with a very bulky and stout frame. He has medium length light brown hair, which is almost always neatly tucked in a helmet that he forged himself, and has his prized piece of topaz secured in the lower front of the helmet. He has a rather long and thick beard that reaches his belt almost which is the same colour of his hair, it is separated into two parts, each secured in place with a piece of gold. He has emerald green eyes, and a permanently dirty face and arms/hands from his past as a miner. He also wears a navy tunic and navy pants with knee and shin protection, as well as a set of worn out leather gloves that he uses daily.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Nervarn is a very simple Dwarf. He is very masculine and muscular which is a cause from his work. He likes doing what he does as a blacksmith and also loved mining back in his younger years, with the ambition of getting back into the mining industry. He is very caring and gentle, although there are many people that view him as scary or intimidating, which he does not like being seen as those things. Nervarn loves his city of Barkamsted and does not have any intentions of leaving his home, and wants to maintain his business as well as see it grow.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences): Nervarn was born into a refugee camp, both of his parents were members of the camp after their old home was destroyed by the Pact. He had a good childhood, he was very ignorant and unaware of the problems going on for most of his childhood, but he was always happy. His mother was a beautiful woman, with long hair and a small frame who worked as a florist before the war. His father was a very tall Dwarf, who measured 4'7" and was very respected in their old village, and always loved mining, with the dream of becoming a black smith and opening up his own shop
Nervarn's father unfortunately passed away in a mining accident, and Nervarn wanted to honour him so he got into mining. He taught himself all sorts of things about ore and different techniques of mining and his mother helped him prepare for emergencies, as her survival instincts were very honed. So he entered the mining business and wanted to do the best he could and still continue his simple life, and after the war he moved to Barkamsted and became one of the first people to dig in the new-founded mines.
Nervarn always wanted to keep a simple life and loved what he did, but one day something hit him, he was thinking about his father and remembered how much he wanted to become a black smith and have his own shop. Nervarn idolized his father and wanted to become everything that he was and live on his legacy, and creating armour and weapons for a living was still simple. So one day, he went on his last mining expedition and left his old job. He bought a plot of land and began to create his shop from the ground up, and read all the books he could find about smithing. He was very successful and was still very happy with his simple life, but he would always daydream about being in the mines once again.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed. Nervarn turns around to see where the robber is, and notices that he is a child, but gets a good look at him - a small human boy with dark brown hair wearing a green tunic. Nervarn never did anything too exciting that cost money, and always got great joy from saving his money. Being robbed by this child did not bother him too much, he felt bad for the kid being raised so poorly. Nervarn is not very quick as well, so he just collects his losses and goes home to get some more money so he can buy some more mead and materials to work with at his smith. He leaves and then returns a few hours later, but he sees someone that looks very familiar, and then he realizes who it is. It is the boy that stole his coin purse! Nervarn approaches the child and asks him if he knows he who is. The child looks ashamed and keeps his head down and does not say anything. "Where are yer parents?" Nervarn asks concerned. "A-at home." The child replies. "Are ya hungry?" Nervarn asks. "Yes, very." the boy replies quickly. "Well how 'bout ya give back me coin purse and I'll buy ya some food and a drink." says Nervarn with his arm extended. The boy gives back the coin purse and apologizes for doing what he did and Nervarn forgives him and buys him some bread and milk from a nearby stall.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population. Nervarn runs to the trap and asses how injured the wolf is, and if she'll survive after she's set free. It looks like the wolf's not badly injured, so he decides to get the trap off the wolf as she has pups to care for and teach, much like Nervarn's father taught him almost everything he knows. So he begins to pry open the trap but for some reason it won't come off the poor wolf, so he has to think of what he can do. He tries a few more times using his hands and it still won't come off. He looks around seeing if there's anything that he can use to get the trap open. he finds a large stick that doesn't seem like it will break without a fight, and begins to try using that. After a few tries the trap comes off the wolf and Nervarn slowly backs off and watches the pups run up to her and jump at her as she limps off in the forest.
Actually if you read the lore it is a rare occurance but can happen. I did not see Blackmsted was the only settlement and I really doubt that is the case. Since other places are mentioned or basicly the they went "somewhere else". Also do I really need a reason? Some are gifted with it at birth I don't belive a simple child would have a idea to what to use this power for.
Apologies. You'd be correct about the eye colour. However, the fact that Barkamsted is the last city is clearly stated in the lore. It's even bolded so that it's practically impossible to miss. I'm curious to know what these 'Other places' are though, if you'd care to elaborate?
Well My chacter was born around 50 years ago he would of have time to move to the "other cities" before they were attacked. I should of said he lives in blackmsted now and to be honest I didn't read the complete lore.
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): superskype727
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I play on Lord of the craft and on Planes of Shireli
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Going past your charter limits and per say “powering” up your chacter to do amazing stunts or actions he wouldn’t be able to do. Also swings your sword and emoting just killing the person rather than giving them a chance EXP: “Steve swings his sword at Bob killing bob”
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using out of chacter information to your advantage like exposing this guy as a werewolf that told you on TeamSpeak or something
----IC Info----
-Character name: Krodin Elderwood
-Character race: High Elf
-Character age: 30
-Character Occupation: Krodin is more or less a book seller. He gather information throughout the lands and sells it for a price. He is also tending to deal in artifacts always willing to buy them. Krodin’s greed of information has also gotten him to steal it. Among stealing information Krodin often steals minerals, swords, Jewels and any artifacts he can get his hands on.
-Character description- Krodin Elderwood is a lean 6ft 5 high elf. His hair is blonde and his eyes are a darker baby blue. Krodin often wears casual clothes mostly the color of black and red. Krodin’s face has a bit of an annoyed tone on it when talking to most people. He is on the lean but muscular side but not able to lift something very heavy. His face looks a quite wary
-Character personality and traits: Krodin's doesn't know when to quit. He is ignorant and will do many things for gain. Sometimes Krodin doesn't know when to be serious or when he is beat. Krodin is a rather shallow person in general but when warms up to someone he is quite kind. Krodin has a friendly outside most people will think he is a good person. Krodin is sometimes ignorant of others emotions and feelings.
-Character biography: Krodin was born into a family of first generation Blackmsted born High elves. It was a tough change for his parents but for him everything seemed normal. Since the school district wasn’t giving special right to high-elves their children was mixed in with the other races. Growing up Krodin talked to and even made friends with kids of different races. Although living in a house with “Pure bloods” he would often hear slurs of other races. When angry Krodin sometimes uses theses slurs to offend people but apologizes after calling theses mishaps his “roots”.
15 years old now Krodin heard cheering coming from the center of town. Krodin rushed there wondering what all the excitement was about. Upon his arrival there he sees them… The hunter’s guild. Clashing men in suits of armor. Women wanted them. Men wanted to be them and anyone who said otherwise was a liar. Since than Krodin has sought to be a Huntsman
Krodin 30 now decided to move out on his own and get a home on the other side of town. Krodin growing up now realizes that he is too weak to join the hunter’s guild and decided to take up a craft instead. Krodin decided to now be a book seller and information gather. Krodin has been stealing from others though to help support himself. He steals information and often sells this information to others… for a price. Krodin has found interests in theses “artifacts” he has heard so much about and has some books on the matter.
.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
Krodin noticing the kid running with his coin purse rushes after him. After out running the kid and tackling him near the town fountain he snatches his purse and looks upon the kid. Krodin feels anger but also a little pity. Yelling at the kid and threating to break his fingers if he does such a thing again, He gives the kid a few coins hopping that is enough to feed him.
Krodin hearing whines while walking in the forests comes to check what is making such squeals. He stumbles upon a mother wolf trapped and her baby cubs surrounding her. He picks up the cubs one by one putting them in an empty sack. They will make good hunting wolves later and maybe I could get the farmer to give me money so I don’t get my wolves to hunt on his land. As for the mother, Krodin knows she wouldn’t be able to live out here so instead of letting her starve Krodin nox an arrow in his bow, aims, and fires hitting the wolf in the head wanting her not to whimper from a slow death. Krodin gets the pelt from the mom and his on his way to town with the intention of selling the pelt.
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: Magic rp, Treasure hunting and general lore of the topic has been some of the best rp experiences I have had. I wish for my chacter to have magic because it is an interesting dynamic for he would use magic for a little fighting but would avoid fighting in general unless vs monsters.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: The power of the magic you use is based upon the artifact you have thus even an Uber all mighty mage can’t do a lot with a basic trinket. Also mages aren’t the strongest of people generally relying on magic rather than physical labor
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: Everyone has “Magic” inside of them although few know how to control it or let it flow out of their body. It does depend how proficient you are with magic to what level artifacts you can use but even a powerful mage can’t do a lot of a basic trinket.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket: I decided to write a little showing what I could do
Krodin sets up a small candle on the floor. Krodin siting criss-cross apple sauce accrose from the candle he breaths in and out. Krodin places his right hand (The one with the fire trinket ring on it) face down above the candle and his other hand above that also facing down. Krodin sits and breaths for minuites what feels like hours, trying to channel his aura into his hands than into the ring. Krodin focuses on the candle closing his eyes imaging it lit, imaging the heat touching him. The sound of a candle lighting can be heard. Krodin removes his hands and gasps in joy. “Oh thank you Bothimir for blessing me great one.” Krodin says a little loudly. “I must train.” Krodin thinks aloud....
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
Yes. I had played on Kingdom of Aeonis, as well as several World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy XIV roleplay guilds. I have also played Dungeons and Dragons several times, and have hosted sessions of Dark Heresy (a Warhammer 40k spinoff). Before all of that I had chat site roleplays, and those were a bit of a mixed bag.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power-gaming is when you play your character to an overpowered extent, and often force other characters to do things without consent to the players.
A combat RP example would be:
Blair: Swiftly hoists his rapier in the air, the steel reflecting the sun into his opponents eyes. While his enemy is blinded, he thrusts forward with a harsh stab into his neck, quickly drawing the blade out as blood spurts everywhere. Tony is now bleeding out violently and will die in four seconds.
(Tony's player)
In this example, Blair went straight and killed Tony without giving him a chance to react, and without his consent.
However, this result could be also in reverse.
Knight: The knight swings his powerful broadsword toward the farmer's unarmoured chest; a vicious blow that would like leave the man bleeding and crippled.
Farmer: Quickly jumps back from the trained knight's sword, making a face and waving his pitchfork.
Knight: Roars a frustrated roar as he presses his assault, this time with a vicious slash toward his arm.
Farmer: Deftly avoids the sharp steel and jumps away, continuing his mockery of the knight.
This encounter continues on with the knight slashing and attacking and the farmer endlessly dodging.
In that example, the Farmer would be powergaming, because avoiding damage forever is just as bad as forcing damage on another player.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Meta-gaming is when you take character that you, as a player, know, and apply it to your character.
For example; 'I know that Jeuce has a secret base out in the boonies so now my character knows there's a secret base out in the boonies'
This is more extreme, however, and another example that could be considered metagaming is; "I know that Jeuce has a secret base out in the boonies so my character now has a strange urge to go study the boonies."
----IC Info----
-Character name:
Sylvia Savant
-Character race:
Human
-Character age:
23
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
None; though she would call herself a scholar and wishes to be a librarian
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Sylvia is a plain, unremarkable girl. At the short-ish height of five feet, she has lightly tanned skin often covered by a light linen robe with a matching hood, dyed a whitish colour to prevent overheating herself in hotter days. Sylvia carries a walking staff, not imbued with any form of magic, it's simply a good, sturdy stick. Underneath the robe she carries an over the shoulder bag with a book, an inkpot, and a quill. She also wears a simple, leather "breastplate", and underneath that, a black tunic with dark brown pants and black hiking boots.
She has a smooth face, slightly thinner lips than average, and behind those lips she has pearly white teeth, though they are not straight. Her canines stick forward slightly (no, she is not a vampire), and one of her top two front teeth is a bit folded past the other. Her eyes are dark blue with bags under them, often because she gets little to no sleep in favour of reading. She has dark brown hair, which is often covered by the hood.
Her body, underneath the robe, isn't stunning to any degree, and she's often jealous of many other women, both humans and elves alike, for their assets. She has a thin build, most of her muscles come from walking and carrying books and other objects, leaving most of her soft and thin, but bony in some joints, such as her wrists and ankles. Barely shapely, there are often times she is mistaken for a male, her leather vest all but hiding her breasts and the robes hiding any other curves and her feminine hair anyways.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Sylvia has a huge desire to learn. She can sometimes seem cold and selfish, but that is not the truth. The truth is she favours knowledge over all, including human life. She often also skulks behind buildings or in alleyways to listen in on people, she loves to hear gossip and rumours. This does not mean she doesn't like people, though; quite the contrary, for if her actions to see new things and read new books hurt another human, she would feel remorseful and depressed for days, even if she would repeat the action the next day, had she the chance.
Sylvia is a pacifist, and as such will try to derail and avoid any combat she can. If she can't stop a fight from happening, she will try and run away.
Sylvia is passive-aggressive, often too scared to deal with problems herself, but causing minor inconveniences to others as a form of petty revenge. This includes stealing small objects, sneaking rodents or birds into other's houses, messing with intricate designs, and so forth
Sylvia hates children. She has little interest in seeing them and no interest in ever having a child herself. This doesn't mean she will beat every child she sees, or even insult or cuss them out, but she will try to avoid social activity with them.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Sylvia was born to a household just outside Barkamsted, the eldest of five siblings. As she was young, her life was easy, but as more children entered her life she found she was often bogged down with more and more chores, such as looking after the younger ones and cleaning and tending to fields. It was a lot for her, to constantly deal with her brothers and sisters, and time only stood to wear her down even further. It was all so same-y and stressful and... boring, to her. She found no excitement in watching wheat or potatoes or children grow. The children's simple minds and games were never any fun to Sylvia, as hiding under beds and running to touch each other (tag you weirdos) never much appealed to her.
Thus, she began to resent her home life, and it showed in the way she acted. Around the age of thirteen, she began to lash out against her younger siblings, and bad mouth her parents. This caused many tears between her parents and siblings, and often times she would find herself feeling alone, sad, empty. She began hearing her parents having arguments, and soon completely fighting, screaming and hitting each other. She distanced herself even further, and with little support to turn to, began to take interest in reading and learning. This swiftly became her favourite thing in the world; new ideas, new knowledge, these all excited her and she quickly became addicted. Spending hours at a time away from her needy siblings and fighting parents, she could read her days away. History books quickly became her favourite, satisfying her craving for knowledge with heroes and villians and gods and treasures of old.
Despite being happier, she didn't improve much when she was actually at home. Her brothers soon outgrew her and began to fight back against her violent ways, leaving her fearful of home as she was beaten to the ground with her hair tugged without mercy. At age seventeen, she listened to another fight between her parents -- the last she would hear, as her mother stormed out, never to be seen again. Now having to fill her mother's role of watching over and cooking for the household, cleaning and taking care of children, she became a complete wreck, with never any time to escape to her passion. She herself only lasted two years before running off on her own at the age of nineteen, the work being too much for her to handle. How her mother managed to cope with children, she would never know.
Now she was homeless and jobless, with little experience. 'Well...' she thought, 'I do know how to cook and clean...'
With that thought in mind, she went to the city, looking for work to keep herself fed. Soon she found a job for a local inn keeping the place clean and serving customers. This place doubled as her home, and despite having to pay for room and board, she managed to do quite well for herself. Even a busy day of dealing with customers was better than constantly looking over five children, and she was guaranteed a break at the end of the day when the shift was over. Finally, time to pursue her reading again, and even with a room to call her own.
Days turned to weeks, turned to months, turned to years, and she worked the bar and paid her room. Things were beginning to get a bit dull for Sylvia again; she found herself more and more agitated and frustrated by her simple job. She tried to keep her emotions under control, and seemed to be able to hide her dissatisfaction, until one day she snapped. She saw her brother, the one who had tormented her most as a teenager, and went completely berserk. Cussing him out, throwing mugs at him and attacking him were a few things that was witnessed by the bar's patrons. Naturally, this was not seen as "good for business", and the next morning she was out on the street again with only her savings from work, some literature and the clothes on her back.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Sylvia walks through the hot noon-ish sun, leaning on her walking staff to help support the heavy satchel she constantly carried. As she peruses the stalls still open, she feels the weight of her coinpurse become completely non-existent, and she turns to find a child sprinting.
"Get back here, you thieving brat!" She yells, lifting the staff and chasing after the child. She kept on the child's heals until she could catch up enough to tackle him to the ground. Pinning him down, she forcefully tugs her coinpurse from his thieving fingers, before standing up and dropping it in her satchel, where she opted to leave it from now on.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Sylvia sits down on a tree stump and looks sadly down at wolf and her cubs. She didn't want to kill the wolf, but to set it free would probably be a massive danger to herself and the livestock of the farmers that lived nearby. With a heavy heart, she stands and continues her journey. Perhaps soon, someone with more mercy than her could set them free, or kill them.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
12/27/2010
Posts:
52
Minecraft:
Several accounts
Member Details
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN:
Hong_Meiling
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat):
I don't use skype, sorry!
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I've been a Owner, Developer and Lore manger going on 10 years now... through my decade of experience I've penned lore for various servers and story arcs ranging from simple fetch quests, to entire complex socio-politcal systems for nations with thousands of years of history.... I've got experience in player/consumer engagement and how best bring a community forward and keep them hungry for more content...
As a personal note, I was on the launch team of Fallout: Sins of our Fathers, back when it launched originally, I headed up the administration team and the Brotherhood of Steel during launch and for several months onward, only reason i stopped was due to the mind numbing pain of schooling, and familial medical issues but being so I'd love to help out in any capacity! Whilst under myself and my Co-Admin's care and guidance our server witnessed a 30% growth in the servers population with easily 70% retention rates among new and old players alike, our income and revenue, via donations, grew easily 45% due to an active playerbase and their fond love and generous charity to give back to our server owner for creating such a wonderful place to play and engage in the story of Fallout!
I've got the drive and motivation to provide quality lore, characters and ample time to engage in universe building... I've been round Minecraft since Indef... I've played it too and fro, unique concepts for stories are eternally engaging! I do hope to be considered! Outside of Minecraft, I've played dozens of characters, from various table top games, ranging from Call of Cthulhu (Personal fav!), to Only War, and the Rogue Trader series of games... I've Game Mastered many of my own campaigns and I love to engage my audience and write interactive and living stories that broach into topics pertinent to the modern day and age! I've penned a few poetic pieces that have won regional and national competitions back when I was in school, I currently am penning a novella myself, So let there be no fear pertaining to my love of writing!
My experience of roleplay and the craft extends far beyond the realm of simple minecraft roleplay. I've been an avid D&D GM and player at various gameshops and in some local conventions since the advent of 3e, I've run countless campaigns and ventured trek-less distances with players from all walks of life and from dozens of different cultures and life styles. I routinely review my works diligently to ensure player feed back is optimal and satisfactory, because at the end of the day, we are all here just playing a game! We outta have fun whilst we do it!
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power Gaming includes the forcing of actions upon another player without giving them a proper chance to respond or retort, and in addition it includes over engineering a character to be far too imbalanced within the confines of roleplay. E.G; Mary Sues/Gary Sues, Superman... Individuals like that with unbelievable powers.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
The use of ill-gotten information whilst out of character, to provide some substantial boost to your character or position, this can include ore-meditating or abusing weaknesses listed on someones character sheet, or tidbits about their past that haven't come to be public knowledge via the course of roleplay.
----IC Info----
-Character Rame:
Thyra "Grim Hammer" Stonefang
-Character Race:
Dwarf
-Character Age:
97
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
Served as a miner for the earliest portion of her life, roughly from her youth up until her 45th year, before following her father and eldest brother into the anvil of war. There after she served as a warrior up until the present day. As such she is a able miner, and equally dour warrior.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing at a stocky 4'8 with heavy musculiture from her duties and time upon the fields of strife and within the endless tinkering within the earth, Thyra is a durable and stoically built female for her race. Upon her head rests a thick and mangled mane of auburn locks that rest braided with heavy bands upon her back. Upon her countenance and frame be dozens of grizzled scars and nicks from countless close calls in her time upon the fields.
Her frame is usually clad with thick traveling leathers and few faded trinkets from the ancestral home of the Dwarves. She possesses two azure eyes, one faded and milky and failing due in part to a crude pikes strike to her old helms visor. She bears upon her frame thick trails of tattooed blue ink upon her body, worked into her flesh to designate her kin's marking, indicating she was a daughter of the Stonefang clan.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Dour and possessing a dry wit, there is little of Thyra that one does not see upon first meeting with this weary and scarred dwarven maiden. She is stoic and firm when it comes to task she must handle herself, she is known to be curt and short of temper when agitated or goaded. She is found drunken many a day, as she many a times refuses to function in her daily life without several pints of ale in her gullet, whilst many chuckle at this presuming such is common of Dwarves, it is clear that with each pint of ale Thyra consumes, she buries some guilt deeper within her weary soul.
She is not vain nor conceited, but does demand equal respect to that which she provides. It is worth noting though, she does bear unhealthy and some would say obsessive hatred and loathing of the Pact and their kin, there is no sooner or swifter way to ignite her tar pitch flames of hatred then to bring forth mention of them or the mountains of Thonduhm.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Once long ago now it seems, this a free spirited and rapturous dwarven maiden from the bustling halls of Thonduhm, was bright eyed and eager to engage the world and its unknown wonders beyond the stone halls of the dwarven hold. But now all that remains is a wiry and dour husk of the once excitable and energetic lass from ages long past. Thyra was born 25 years before the war's outbreak, unto the line of Baldur Stonefang, an extended and hearty and staunchly traditional family from deep within the mountain hold of Thonduhm. Her father served as a foremen for a region of the mine dubbed by the workers as the Deeping Hold, as such he was a mirthful and jolly fellow as any and the heart and soul of the Stonefang clan. Thyra was the second youngest to be born to her mother and father, she indeed infact claims to have had two brothers, one many years her senior and a younger brother many her junior.
Being the middle child to the expansive and extended Stonefang line, Thyra was routinely overshadowed by her myriad of cousins and her own siblings. As such she shirked the routine and expected courses that a maiden of the family would hold, and instead spent her days toiling endlessly within the Deeping Hold with her father and eldest brother, eternally intent to prove her worth to the family and esteem herself within the eyes of dwarvish culture. Whilst in the depths of the mines expanses, she learned of the nearly endless dangers that poised themselves to take the miners lives, she being a swift learner was taught a myriad of lessons beneath the unforgiving stone of the earth, these years shaped her and ground her spirit and body, hardening her like the stone she worked with for so long.
It was upon her 45th year, many years into the opening days of the Pact's driving wave into the verdant lands of the Alliance, that her father and his kin, were summoned up from the depths of the Deeping Hold, and pressed forth into the standing army that ride forth in perpetual waves to break the coming tide of the Pact's forces. The Stonefang family, being staunch proponents of tradition, answered the calling by sending forth their first born and those of able body into the fray. Being the head of the family clan, Baldur rallied his kin and joined with the marching forces of the Alliance. Whilst strongly dissuaded from joining the march, Thyra refused to leave her father Baldur's side and with them along she marched.
For the next few decades, Thyra spent her time marching with the forces of the Dwarven Hold and members of the Alliance, it was said she could be found alongside her brother and Father, heavy warhammer grasped firmly between her armored hands, fighting with zeal unmatched in the defense of her kin. Each battle drew more and more flesh and blood from the dwarven host, the brutal summer heat and the freezing caress of winters bite, steadily wore heavily upon the once high spirited band of dwarven warriors. After a brutal encirclement within a forlorn vale who's name time had forgotten, Thyra's eldest brother was smote down by the crushing club within the grasp of a trolls hand along with many of their own blood and kin before they could be pulled and extracted from this hellish encirclement by friendly forces. Disheartened and weary from the fighting, the now forty yeared bloodied veterans of Stonefang's clan, were pulled from the fray and given time to mourn their costly dead. Though their rest would not be found, as Thyra mourned her lost brother and fallen cousins, word reached the Dwarven hold that the Pact had shattered the last few bulwarks between themselves and the city of Thonduhm.
Whilst it is said the mighty bastion of the Dwarves held forth the longest against the damnable and streaming tides of the Pact and their relentless attempts to batter down the monolithic gates and hold of the Dwarves, the day did come when even the might of stone can be washed away by the power of the waters stream. With the once glorious gates of Thonduhm in ruin, with foes streaming forth into the Dwarven hold, not once did Thyra nor the Stonefang clan falter in their duty. The Stonefang Clan, tasked with defending the Deeping Hold, and one of the rumored causeway that would permit the civilians of Thonduhm to flee their city in dire times, established themselves in the narrow causeway at the throat of the hastily converted mining tunnel. Numbering nearly one hundred able bodied warriors, the hammers and axes of the Clan met with the brutal iron and leather of the combined Pact forces, as they swept through the now panicked city.
Whilst many other clan's and regiments fought their battles within the monolithic cities blazing ruins, the Stonefangs made their stand within the Deeping's Holds yawning maw, buying time for innocents to flee the onslaught and chaos of the invaders. For nearly 12 hours, the Warriors of the veteran warband, stood four abreast, hammers and axes and pikes driving back each thrust of the Pact's forces, each wave leaving more and more of the warband slain and fallen as they were steadily driven back, boot-step by boot-step.
Upon the 12'th hour, Baldur Stonefang was smote by a great and terrible orc and was hauled down, his head removed and placed upon a pike, further breaking the failing morale of the now heavily diminished warband. With less then twenty seven bedraggled warriors, Thyra took her father's charge, and drove against the endless tide of the Pact, maddened by the loss of her father and her kin, the warband drove on frenzied in grief, as they managed to detonate makeshift explosives set days prior in the event the forces found themselves unable to hold. The titanic detonation brought down the mouth of the tunnel upon both the dwarves and the Pact's forces within this specific area of the mines. With the heaving sigh, the earth gave way, as Thyra welcomed her death at the hands of the unyielding stone, instead of upon the end of an orc's cleaver. It seemed such a fate would not come to the grief stricken dwarven shield breaker, she found herself trapped at the edge of the tunnels, the few remaining dwarven warriors of her band digging her free and hauling her away as she wailed in protest to be buried with her kin.
With her armor rent and hammer shattered, she was taken through the mining tunnels by her few surviving kin, the band numbering no more then six, joined with the few fleeing refugees from the cities fall, as they made their way, westward towards the bastion of Barkamsted. It was said that fewer then 85% of the dwarven folk that dwelled within the towering halls of Thonduhm survived, it is said that Thyra considers herself unlucky for failing to join her kin and father in the cold tomb of earth within the Deeping Hold. Though, in the 2 years since the close of the war, and the uneasy peace that followed, Thyra has served as a mercenary and sellsword, having been given the nick name of "Grim Hammer" due to her hollowed and straight forth approach to situations and problems, it is clear the maiden of Stonefang seeks but one thing, and that is absolution for the death of her father and to draw blood from the Pact till the sea of blood that proverbially drowns the city of Thonduhm, is repaid in full....
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Thyra would have tied her belt tightly about her waist, as she shifts heavily, shouldering her way through the thick crowd on the route towards her haven, she growls and grimices at the constant influx at this hour, casting disdainful glances up towards humans or taller folk that fail to move aside quickly enough for her liking. She sighs and smacks a hand onto her face as she waits for a pair of humans to end their conversation and move. She bristles sharply as she feels her coin purse move, her honed reflexes snatch at her now empty belt, she growls and spots the child darting away, she shifts and bellows sharply "T'o Harvin' Runt! Get yee back 'ere wth my gold! Thief! Swine! Guards!!" She would attempt to shove her way through the crowd in heated and glowing pursuit of the child, veins in her neck swelling in rage, None make fools of Stonefangs she swears, None.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Thyra would trudge through the thicket, rearing up and swatting away a petulent shrub that refuses to budge, as she makes her way back towards the city. She exhales tiredly, the murky haze of her ale had slowly been ebbing from her, she groans as she makes her way down a crest, mind consumed with thoughts of booze. Till her ears catch sound of said whining from nearby, she would pause and make her way over yonder. Coming across the afore stated scene. She would pause and stare solumnly at the ensnared wolf, her eyes wearily snapping shut, as she shakes her head. She would make her way over towards the entrapped wolves and its pups, and growl sharply as a bear towards them "Oi! Oi! Stop ya squirmin, ya gonna tear ya goddamned leg off.... 'Ere Easy lass, easy... Lemme open it fer ya..." She would shift forward, and attempt to free the wolves foot from the trap as she exhales "Sod the farmers, this ain't how you supposed to fight a foe, ain't no honor killin 'im from miles away.... Bloody farmin gits..."
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: very_berry
-Skype name: spencer.cossey2
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: For many years I have been roleplaying, be it in Minecraft, outside, or tabletop. It’s hard to give exact time I started roleplaying, as a lot of it blended together during my earlier years of the hobby, so let’s say at least 5 years. As I mention, I play tabletop roleplay like Fate and DnD. Last year I started a roleplay club at school with my friend, and it went so successfully that we’re doing it again next year, and I plan to be a DM.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power gaming can take many different forms, and is not limited to MCRP. In a nut shell, power gaming is when a player does something that their character would not normally be able to do, OR, have their character be more powerful to win a fight (as they normally would not be)
In Minecraft, power gaming usually takes the form of players who get into RP fights that NEVER END, because they both want to win and they keep trying to one-up the other person when in reality their character would have been on the ground gasping for air.
In tabletop, power gaming often takes the form of creating a character that is primarily for the use of fighting and does not roleplay, or rather, they have the mindset that tabletop is like a video game, where they are pretty much guaranteed to succeed. I’m going to stop myself before I go into a rage rant.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: In a nutshell, metagaming is abusing information IC that was discussed out of game, I.E your character shouldn’t be able to hear past the fabric of time and space to know what’s in the next room without being told by an NPC or PC
Metagaming is a problem for anything roleplay, and exists as an anti-roleplay in a sense. It is very prevalent in both tabletop and MCRP.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Mayrina Managard (she prefers May)
-Character race: Half Elf (if you’ll alow it. If not, then high elf)
-Character age: 21
-Character Occupation: Bard/ Minstrel. She travels from place to place performing for he keep and getting paid in bread, bed and mead, instead of coin. (This will be more of a RP job as supposed to a mechanical one)
-Character description: As a young half elf, she stands about the height of an average human male. She has blonde hair and matching eyes in typical elf fashion. She has pointed ears but not to the degree of most elves, instead they are shorter and rounder like a humans, but still with an elven point. Similar to her ears, her skin colour is a mix of her human mother and elven father, resulting in a dominantly human shade with a bit of elven colour. She has a thin build that’s still just a bit thicker than an average elven woman. To sum up her physique, she’s as one would expect a half elf; not quite human, but not quite elf. Instead, drawing from both to create something new that is neither of her parent’s.
-Character personality and traits: First off, she’s of neutral good alignment, meaning she’s got a good heart, and doesn’t like to kill. (I realise that alignments aren’t really implemented in MCRP, but I just love them so much I give alignments to everything. It helps me RP better). Being 21, she’s still young for half elf standards, essentially making her a teen to the elves and a childish adult to the humans.
May is social and empathic to people; she likes when people are happy and keep an entertaining environment for people. Being young for an elf, she is a bit more childish and perhaps immature at time, but this also means she can be curious. She does not have much experience with weapons, she keeps a dagger, but it’s mainly for utility. Due to this, she doesn’t like fighting and prefers to talk her way out of a conflict as supposed to brawling.
However despite her social aptitudes and positive attitude, she is not just happy-go-lucky all the time, she can be upset, angry, or sad like everyone else.
-Character biography:
The rays of the moon shined down into the tavern. It was a relatively quiet night in terms of service. Not many people came at this time, except for the ones who wanted to forget, or were simply lost. May gazed around the room, many tables were placed around but few were occupied. She counted five people. It was nice having a bit of silent time to contrast the busy bustle of the day.
She continued to play her lute, which had wandered to a calmer, lower energy tune to reflect the atmosphere. As time went on, more people left until there were only three people; the owner, May and a lone man sitting at the fire whilst sipping a pint. May decided that the day was done, so she finished up her song with a few slow strums, and put her lute around her back. She wandered to the owner of the tavern to pick up the glass of ale she had earned for doing her job. She thanked the owner, and as she went over to a table, she heard the lone man clapping slowly.
“Brilliant song, young lady.” His voice was mid ranged, and it had a certain exotic slyness to it, like his voice dripped warm honey. “Come, sit with me by the fire” he patted the spot beside him on the wooden bench.
Curiously and wearily, May approached the bench and took a seat, the warm fire made her skin tingle in delight. She had not noticed how cold the room had been before now.
“Do tell me, what do you call that song?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“I don’t really have a name for it, I simply played what I felt around me” May replied, taking a sip of her own.
“Very interesting, and quite poetic. I would expect nothing less from a bard” his words of flattery sounded sweet to may.
“Thanks, I’m Mayrina by the way, but everyone calls me May”
“Greetings May. My name is too elaborate to expect anyone to remember. Please may, tell me about yourself.”
“Well… what do you want to know” May was a bit weary of this intrusive man, but she played along anyways.
“Why not start from the beginning?” he asked.
“Well, my father was an elf and my mother was a human” May began. “My father met my mother back when Barkamsted was about half its age, so… 34 years ago? Something like that at”
“Interesting, I knew I sensed something different about you. Please continue”
“Well, they knew each other for about ten years before they had me, after which they seemed to split apart..., at least that’s what mother told me. When I was five or six, my father left for some reason, and that time mother told me it was because the other elves didn’t approve of him. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I can’t say I really remember the guy anyways, at least not any good memories” May stopped to take a drink, and to give a chance for the man to add something, but he didn’t seem to speak up.
“Anyways, after father left we had to move to lower quality housing, as father provided most the money for the family. The kids I grew up around with were mostly elves, so mother forced me to wear a bandana over my ears so that the elf kids wouldn’t pick on me. They quickly found out about it though. So instead I avoided them and tried to be friends with the human kids, but they thought I was just going to be elitist like the elf kids and never gave me a chance. So there I was, stuck between two rocks.” May took a moment to gaze in the fire, as well as try to think what else to say”
“despite the fact that neither would take me in, I still tried to make friends, and eventually I found a friend in another half elf girl, who introduced me and taught me the basics of playing the lute, and without her I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” she begins to fiddle with the rope strap of her lute.
“I saved my money to buy my own lute, and begged the bards at taverns to teach me to play. Most didn’t, but some showed me a few neat tricks and tips. Again, I owe the ones that helped me for where I am today.”
“Once I was able to play decently, I started to play on the streets for money. I wasn’t greatly successful, that was until a hugely talented minstrel, who had worked for royalty, had taken me under his wing and as soon as I knew it, my training was done and I was working in taverns for my keep.” May finishes, and takes a large drink of her ale to wet her dried mouth.
The man looked to her “An interesting story I must say. But you didn’t seem to give a reason as to why you enjoyed music and performing.”
“Well… I suppose it’s because I wanted to play my part in bringing to mood of the town up, since we lost all our cities to the war. I figured I’d help cheer people up in my own way.”
The man smiles “A noble cause indeed.”
The two sit there in silence for some time before the man speaks up once more
“I’m afraid I must get going now, but for sharing your story with me, I want you to take this” the man hands her a short, but heavy metal finger with a fire insignia on it. “If you need a light, just use it” and with that, he left the tavern.
May finished up her ale, grabbed some bread for dinner and went to bed.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There are a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
As the little boy runs away, weaving through and under people’s legs, May gives slight chase of the boy. However, the amount of people in the market makes this a greatly difficult task, and she is unable to shove past most people, allowing the grungy faced boy to get away.
May lets out a sign. She’s doesn’t terribly need coin, as she works for her keep, but she can’t help but have a bad taste in her mouth. The so far good day had been dashed with a bitterness. Looking up, May pat her chest, feeling for the rope that binds her to her lute. As her fingers wrap around the rope, she lifts slightly and feels the heaviness of the instrument. As long as she still had her lute, she could face the world.
Besides, the kid was probably poor and needed money anyways. Who knows, he might go to the same bar she’s performing for, and maybe he’ll end up buying bread with her money. What a coincidence that would be.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
The sound of a lone lute plays along the forest path. May walks at a brisk pace to get to back to the tavern before everyone leaves, but she decided to warm her fingers up a bit before she got there. As she walked, she couldn’t help but hear a cry that didn’t seem quite right with her. She stopped playing her lute and looked around. What she saw disgusted her, and angered her.
She wearily approached the wolf in the trap, being careful not to frighten or aggravate the wolf. She thought back to when she overheard a table of people talking about the farmer, who had troubles with wolves. As she remembered, she considered backing out and ignoring them. However, when she saw the three pups her heart melted, and her goodness prevailed.
(Idk how to undo a bear trap, so just work with me a little here)
She carefully goes up to the bear trap and undoes it best she can (again, idk how), allowing the wolf to limp away as the three pups follow it. Feeling happy with herself, May returns to the road, hurrying to make up for lost time.
_______________________________________________________________________
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: First things first, As a Half elf, she would have a high likelihood of having magic. Now with the obvious out of the way, she would like to be able to use just a modest amount of magic. She would use illusion magic to assist her performances, like adding a variety of colourful sparkles to catch people’s eyes and dazzle them. I’m not asking for anything big here, just a little dazzle for my bard.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: A player must know about a certain object to be able to use it properly and effectively. Not just anyone can pick up an enchanted staff and go all dumblepotterdolf on everyone. Using magic also requires effort, and too much use can tier someone out.
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: you can only use what you specialize in, using magic too much can be dangerous for health, and overusing/abusing artifacts can result in dangerous effects.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
(I’m going to do this through roleplay, if you’ll allow me)
May looks over the objects in her hands. She spins it, tosses it in the air a few times and gives it a perplexing look over. It’s a small, yet thick and heavy finer made of iron. It has an insignia on it in the shape of a flame. May thinks back to her day at the tavern, back to when she was given the metal trinket. She remembered what the man said quite fondly.
“If you need a light, just use it” the man who gave it to her had said. What the heck did that mean? She figured it must have been magic tool, as she had seen no openings or holes of which fire could come out of… or whatever the man meant by “a light”. After one last inspection, may decide to try it out.
Now she’s not had much experience with these magic trinkets, in fact she normally used small illusion spells for vanity sake, but she knew this was different, it was elemental, and it was functional.
She handled it in her palm, bringing it to her fingertips. She slowly began to focus. She imagined the magic ability swelling inside her core, churning and bubbling, waiting to be used. She then imagined herself guiding the magic up her arm and into her hand. She felt a tingling on her fingertips as the metal trinket began to warm up, and in an instant, a small flame, about the side of a candle was summon on the tip of the metal finger.
May smiled, and a burst of excitement came with the flame, as well and a surge of magic that seemed to rocket up her arm and into the flame finger.
Fire spewed out of the trinket, a good three times hotter and brighter than before. May felt a burning sensation whist holding the metal finer, and she dropped it quickly. She looked at her hand and saw it had minor burns on it, and she suddenly felt quite tuckered out, more so than she had already been. She kicked the magical metal finger and it slid across the room.
May laid her back on the bed and sleep came soon.
(out of character now)
It just occurred to me that I actually had to answer a question. Oh well, I had fun writing that little encounter. But anyways, basically you could do anything you normally could with a small, candle sized light. You could illuminate a small area or light something, however if it was a stronger trinket and didn’t burn your hands, than you could use it more long term and do things like cook with it or boil liquids.
Final note: This took me all night to finish, so my apologies if some things might not make sense. I did review it, but it was a rather rushed review. i just hope i can make the first event on time. sorry for the length of the app, but i just had so much fun making it. and thanks again for taking time to read it.
@jetman25
ACCEPTED
In the future I do suggest not rushing because it's noticeable with a few grammatical errors and missing words, but it is a well written application. Do note that the magic section of the application is for the potential to use magic. You will still have to come across the necessary trinkets ICly before being able to cast your preferred illusion magic. I will send you a Skype request to add you to the server group and we look forward to seeing you on the 24th!
Server IP: 192.99.161.57:25956
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
Everywhere you look it's just a torch in a hole.
ANNOUNCEMENT
SERVER GOES UP IN 12 HOURS, RELEASE WILL BE AT 12PM TODAY!
Only six more... must stay awake!
(Previous post seems to have been completely removed. Not sure why, as there is no reply post and I received no messages. Posting again with some language toned down, in case that was the issue.)
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Ryycracker
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): outlikehendrix
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I haven't been playing D&D since it was a pamphlet, but yes quite a bit. I've both run and played in several 3.5e D&D games (I'm currently in two), and I'm just breaking into the beautiful world of whitewolf with VtM (in one VtM game at the moment.) I've also rolled and played characters in two other Minecraft RP servers, Kingdom of Aeonis and Swords of Abreth. Neither left me aquiver and thirsty for more, but I'm crossing my fingers for a golden goose here.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
In my own words? "Heeeeuuurrghck." Power gaming is the roleplay equivalent of playing at dollies, or even solitaire. The key being that it takes other participants out of the equation. A power gamer removes agency from other players and gives it to themselves. The meat and bones of power gaming is always, without fail, *doing* rather than *attempting* where other characters are concerned, and power gaming taken to an extreme is essentially godmode.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
In short, it's the use of out of character knowledge to make in character decisions, deductions or power grabs. The scariest thing about meta-gaming, to me anyway, is how often it can get its hooks into decent people and great players. Often it starts innocently, say you need a very thinly veiled excuse to meet and travel with a party member, but it's a bad habit that can even put people in a situation where they forget how much information their character is actually privy to.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Rejora Magro de' Salvatici
-Character race: Dark Elf
-Character age: 44
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
Currently jobless, Rejora has a history with the war effort in Barkamsted. He has since left the resistance army of his own volition, however, for reasons described below.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Regrettably, the most noticeable physical trait to Rejora is the size of him. Standing at 5'3'', he has been considerably shorter than the other boys and men he counts among his peers for the duration of his life. Never the type for sloth and gluttony, nor heavy lifting, years of keeping on his toes and running from fights have rendered him quite thin with passable musculature at best. Strong and adept where jumping, climbing or running are concerned he falls far *short* ( ;D ) of handy where bearing the burden of anything greater than his own body weight is concerned. His eyes are a very deep red, the color of a garnet or deoxygenated blood, and his skin is a warm and earthy grey, just barely on the darker side of the spectrum between black and white. He has a rather thin and sharp face, and while he lacks the square features and strong jaw that make men, well, men, his elven blood still gave him his own sort of handsome in that he appears rather clever and mischievous. Some would liken him to a cat or bird, others would call him a rat. Several have.
Ever a convoluted personality, he favors simplicity in some aspects and complexity in others where his personal style and grooming are concerned. His hair is stark white, and he generally keeps it short. He's partial to an undercut hairstyle, the sides of his head shaved or sheared very close while growing out the top and slicking it back with perfumed oils. His only facial hair is a pair of very closely cut sideburns, which he shaves lines out of at intervals to create a striped look. He has a stylized tattoo of a star on his left bicep, elongated and done in white while forgoing the traditional five-pointed doodle to illustrate the sort of thing that stands out in the heavens, a guide star. He prefers function over form where clothing is concerned, and generally garbs himself in brown or black leather and cloth that fits snugly enough to avoid snagging but loosely enough to allow freedom of movement. When appearances are wanting and present or future company is worth the trouble, he has a few nicer and more vivid silk garments in his collection, as well as a modest assortment of silver and white gold jewelry. Whatever the occasion, however, one element of his dress remains universal. His boots are always platformed, with bottoms one or two inches thicker than the work of most cobblers. It's far less subtle than he thinks it is, and he ardently denies it whenever they are mentioned.
Drawing of him done by my SO, LaRioux: http://puu.sh/jb8gx/ac4196b6f3.jpg
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Rejora carries with him a temper shorter than he is, and has a whole basket of chips slung over his shoulder. He's wondered more than he cares to admit whether life is a conspiratory force dedicated to denying him the things he desires. With the high elves ever overhead, the glow of their lanterns lighting his dreams and aspirations afire each night, he has always had an intense passion for all things magical, and likewise a fascination with ancient artifacts. However, being a dark elf, it was made painfully clear from a very young age that he would never be capable of bending reality in such a fantastic manner. It was not long before the magical gleam of his high elven brothers and sisters became a source of resentment, rather than inspiration. They were living above it all whilst he was dragging his feet in the dirt, and it certainly didn't help that they were so tall.
His height is a constant and physical reminder of his shortcomings (hah!), and an incredibly hot button for him. He often overcompensates for his stature by taking unnecessary risks, biting off more than he can chew, and generally writing checks with his mouth that his ass can't cash. Born to an old family with high blood but little coin and no land since The Pact invasion, and even then the third son in line, he feels he has been three times cheated by his birth. A runt with no gold and no magical talent.
Despite his bitterness and short fuse, he's a good sort at heart. Still, he recognizes the line between kindness and folly, and always errs on the side of caution and pragmatism over altruism. A true utilitarian. If not for his own battered ego and pride he would be a very careful elf indeed.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
"Look, just there Rej. Lankies are putting out the lights for the night. Time for bed."
Childhood was a rough but important time for Rejora. It was in games and scraps with the other elven children that he learned his place. He was the last in line, the least of his kind, and the bottom rung on a ladder riddled with splinters. Not everything was sour in his youth, however. When bitterness is all someone has, they have two choices. They can make their own joy, or, in Rejora's case, find it. Fate is the master of irony, and so it happened that this joy came in the form of a young high elven boy. The child's name was Corinaith Arrynlocke, eldest and only son of the Arrynlocke clan. Corinaith was well liked by the other children. He was handsome, tall, smart, quick, and strong. It helped that his parents were just as well liked by most adults, and the whole family was wealthy to boot. Despite all this, the high elf was a very humble child, and quick to befriend even the pariah that was Rejora, the runt of the broken house Salvatici. The pair became very close indeed, and grew into young men in good company.
"Get up, you lazy ****! Don't you do this, I'll drag you back to Syra if I have to!"
When at last the two friends were grown they arrived squarely at a crossroad. Rejora's education had been nothing spectacular. He was a bright boy, but his family wasn't able to afford many opportunities for the third son. Still, old blood has some connections, and he had options for apprenticeship with a handful of craftsmen in Barkamsted. Corinaith was another story, however. His father had an illustrious military career behind him, and gold enough to set Corin on the path to a rich future in mercantile endeavors. The young men had other plans, however. They had talked extensively of joining the resistance army since they were boys, and no amount of pleading from the parents Arrynlocke nor Salvatici could avail. They were still young, brash, and hungry for glory. Drunk on dreams of reclaiming the old forests they enlisted together. Despite his initial warnings against his son's joining, Corinaith's father had his son's safety first in his mind. He used his pull with the military to have Corin made an officer, hoping this would help to keep him out of the ugliest fights. Rejora, due to his size, build, and natural darksight was a natural candidate for the scout corps. To his glee, he found this actually earned him a considerable deal of respect, which served as a pleasant surprise. The scouts were widely considered equal parts brave and insane. They were the first line, alone and ahead of even the vanguard. Horror stories reached Rejora of scouts who had ridden over hills only to find scores of orcs, bored and thirsty for blood. They spoke of bodies wearing the scout regalia mangled, flattened and oozing at the bottom of depressions that could only be the footprints of thirty foot trolls. Young Rej was scared, certainly, but he could never let it show. He was finally a part of something larger than himself and Corin, and accepted by his brothers and sisters in arms. He would ride into a troll's mouth if it meant he could feel that tall forever.
As luck would have it, Rejora's branch of the scout corps were assigned to field ahead for the regiment that was under the command of Corinaith, so even now the two were never far from one another. They spent several years in service of reclaiming the old territories, but each time they had laid claim to a swathe of land The Pact was quick to reclaim it, always pushing back against the meager forces under Alliance command. Still, hope lay ahead. Though they spent several months at a time afield, they were often recalled to Barkamsted for rest and resupply. On one such return trip they had caught word of the development of cannons. Command gave the order to scout and mark small, defensible areas which could be fortified with makeshift walls and cannons to serve as bases of operation and lines of defense for the reclamation effort. Rejora's branch was one of the few assigned to this task, with Corinaith and his regiment overseeing the defense of the areas they found.
It was on a foggy evening in the plains that Corin learned of the impending disaster. Word had just come into camp, a report from a different scout corps branch. Visual contact with the enemy had been established, a contingent of a couple dozen orcs and a troll. Normally this was no cause for concern, a blip in The Pact army and easily routed if the move was planned properly and executed with enough bodies. However, upon reflection, Corinaith recognized the area the enemy was spotted in. If they continued as they were, Rejora's branch was sure to encounter them. Matters were made worse by the terrain. The plains had many hills, and a fair number of them lay between the scouts and The Pact. They would not be wise to the danger until The Pact was upon them, and it would be far too late for them at that point. Seeing no other course of action, Corinaith rallied his men and personally led them against the enemy.
This, however, would prove a grave mistake. Rejora woke with a start in his makeshift shelter to the sounds of battle. The glow of fire was just over the hill, and he was up and running the moment his brain had processed what was happening. He came upon a scene of butchery. Perhaps a dozen orcs lay dead or dying in the tall grass, and easily two score soldiers for the resistance army were decomposing with them. The hill was aflame, the blaze spreading through the tall brown grass at an alarming rate, already consuming some of the bodies and filling the air with the stench of death. A handful of orcs were fleeing the scene, eager to get away from the flames. They did not notice the scout. His eye was drawn to a huge mass of grey flesh and grisly wounds. He waited a few moments for the last of The Pact to run off, and when they did quickly made his way down the hill, skirting the flames and checking for survivors along the way to what he soon saw was the corpse of a troll. It was there that he saw the limp figure of Corinaith, hand still clinging to a longsword lodged in the great beast's gut. He rushed to the soldier, checking him for signs of life. He still drew breath, though it was shallow. His pulse was weak. Rejora could find no obvious wounds. No cuts, no gashes, no missing limbs. He spent the remainder of that night fleeing the fire as he weakly half-carried, half-dragged Corinaith with him all the way back to camp.
"I don't want to be a burden, Rej. I'm sorry. Don't let Syralei throw everything away for me. Keep her on the straight and narrow."
Corinaith lived, but he was a broken, shattered man. What Rejora's eyes had missed soon everyone could see. The dark elf's childhood friend would never walk again, never even sit up on his own. Once the apple of everyone's eye, now useless from the neck down. Rej took it upon himself to bring the now retired officer, and the news, home to the Arrynlocke family. Being used to dark looks and disdainful reproach did nothing to prepare him for what awaited them upon their return. Corinaith's father had the full story, and naturally laid the blame at Rejora's feet. It was him, after all, that Corin had been trying to save. Corin was defending Rej all the while, but it did little good to try and be heard over the sound of his father's screaming, and his sister and mother's wails.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. It did nothing for Corinaith's condition. Rejora couldn't bear to visit for some time, not for the wroth of his friend's parents but because he simply couldn't bear to see the high-elf in that condition. A great man, bedridden and soiling himself. His room stunk of sweat, tears, and ****. He couldn't stay away, though. He'd resigned from the army months ago, and he couldn't bear the guilt or the loneliness any longer. Despite his misgivings, these visits helped, and time at least healed some wounds. At Corin's bedside Rej began talking extensively with his sister, Syralei, as well as the cripple himself. As a boy Rejora hadn't thought much of Syra. She had often seemed in a world of her own, distant and often in the background, or speaking of old and dusty things that had little bearing on the present day. Now, though, with the both of them tied to that horrible room he found some comfort in her. She was every bit as amicable as her brother, to be sure, if a bit less outgoing. She poured herself into her studies, always, and her willingness to get her hands dirty in the field for the sake of her research earned her a great deal of respect from the dark elf. It helped that they had like interests, and though she was curious at to why he was interested in magic and the ancients despite being unable to use them, she did not laugh when his answer was simply that he wished he could.
So it was that Rejora found another friend, once more amongst the people he so often spited out of envy. Given time, the pair began to speak of searching for these ancient artifacts together. Syra was excited at the prospect of new finds, advancements in her field, and contributions to Barkamsted's struggle. Rej too saw the value in this. After what had happened he couldn't commit to joining up with the army again, but he was eager to do what he could all the same. All said, the pair made a natural team when it came to their searches. Between Syralei's time in academia and magical talent, and Rejora's military, combat, and scouting experience their skillsets complimented one another, and both shared a passion for the uncovering of ancient truths and treasures. Together they set out with these ends in mind, and often come home to Barkamsted with a story or two for Corinaith.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
The dark elf spun on heel to try and catch the urchin by the arm. Failing that, he watched him go. The child had picked the wrong person to rob, and he was like to find less copper in that purse than he would in a begging tin. In truth Rejora had room for a bit of pity in his heart. His guard against such things was usually superb, and a child that adept at sleight of hand had to have a mighty need. Still, he'd seen him come and go, and he had a face. Where raw dexterity had failed him his wits would see that the same child wouldn't catch him on a day more flush.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
A mix of fear and excitement crossed Rejora's features at his latest discovery. He had to be careful about how he approached this, an animal is never more dangerous than when it's cornered or defending young, and both cases were true here. He couldn't get close enough for a clean cut, an arrow would have to do. A hole in the head meant a lower price, this mother wouldn't be anyone's rug. Still, if his hand was steady enough she could be someone's coat. The string strummed and the shaft whistled to signal a clean shot between the wolf's eyes. The dark elf gave it a moment to be sure it was well dead, and got to work. He had to travel light if he wanted to make good time, and the amount of meat on the mother would either go bad before he got back to Barkamsted or simply never be eaten. He settled for her skin, leaving the rest of her for the pack that was doubtlessly nearby. The pups would come in handy, light but fatty from mother's milk. He thought as he gave them quick deaths by his knife that Syra might think less of him for it, but were the roles reversed they certainly wouldn't be nursing him to health, let alone their mother. Inside the city walls were one thing, but out here in the trees and hills a snack was a snack. At least he could give them the mercy of steel, a measure of shelter from the cold and hungry death they faced otherwise.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: SilverFlonne
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): (I have one but don't feel like skype chat atm, sorry >_> )
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
3 years of roleplaying but covered with a history of random hiatus and server shutdowns. Mostly played medieval/fantasy type settings while experiencing a fallout and steampunk setting once. Notable servers were MCKingdoms, Silver Gaming Servers (Book of Halegron, Shrine of the Ancients, The Wayward Ones), The Last Ark, MCDieval.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Forcing an action on a player that is difficult/impossible to react to. Eg: Chops head off with one stroke
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Using Out-of-context information while In Character.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Fhia
-Character race: Human
-Character age:20
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing at 5"2, Fhia is plain looking, almost like every other woman you can find on the streets. Black haired, average height, no prominent features to make her stand out.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
With the last two years of service as a servant, Fhia is able to make forced smiles seem normal and assume different identities to match different situations. Also she is able to keep a household clean and in order and as a servant should, serve the needs of a master that hires her services.
However, her true personality is cold and paranoid from the betrayals in her life. She find it extremely hard to trust what anyone says and she dislikes the high elves. She is also a cold-blooded killer, unfazed by blood and would not question or hesitate when killing someone. Her justification for killing someone is largely based on vengeance and hatred but it is rather rare for her to actually want to kill.
Being uneducated, she is unable to read and write and her running speed and stamina is relatively low but to make up for it, she has upper body strength from two years of work. She is unfamiliar with weapons with the exception of knives.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
“Impudent servant! I asked for the freshest fruit.”
A pear came flying in her direction and knowing better than to dodge it, she lets it hit her head and bounce off.
“Don’t you dare return until you get it.”
The arrogant high elf shouted from his seat on his elegant armchair. Picking up his wine glass from the table, he raised it to his lips but before he took a sip, he warned his servant before dismissing her.
“If you don’t return, you can say good bye to that pesky brat.”
Head bowed, the servant left, ensuring that the door was closed, that the high elf was out of sight before smiling bitterly to herself.
‘I already did that a while ago.’
*******
“Sis, where are we going?”
Ignoring her little sister, she held onto the tiny hand tight with her right while in her left, whatever she could have taken that seemed of value before she ran out of the house.
“Sis, will Papa come find us?”
‘If he comes and find us, he won’t just sell us off’ The older sister thought as she pulled her younger sibling away from the abode they formerly called home. Ever since mother moved out of the house because of the irresponsible father, he had been throwing away at the underground gambling dens that have sprang out. However, having recently lost most of his savings, with almost everything of value from the house sold off, there were only a few expendable resources he were willing to give up for more money. Such as his two daughters but the older one found out about it after a druken stupor the before.
“Sweaty fig! Money for two girls! If only I had more! Sweaty Fig!” he had shouted the whole night.
Gritting her teeth as she remembered the gleeful look on the dirty man’s face as he skipped around the living room, she did not notice the figure stepping out from the alley in front of her.
“Stupid girls.”
Clarity returning to her, she looked up at the figure and saw a rusty metal pipe quickly approaching her face. But her little sister pulled her down to dodge the blow. Only the older sister dodged the blow.
*Crack*
The wet feeling of blood was a horrible experience as it flowed freely down the older sister’s face. Her mouth opened in an attempt to form words, to console her, to tell her that this was a dream but the shock was too much. The attacker placed his foot on the back of the younger sister to push her off. Waking up from her frozen state of mind, despair took over as she desperately reached from one of the items she had taken out of the house. The kitchen knife. The attacker however, unfazed by the knife loosely held by the shaking girl reached forward to pluck it out of her hands.
“S..Sis, you okay?”
Hearing the weak voice, her shaking hand steadied and shot upwards. And in that direction was a throat and out of it came more blood.
*******
Far away from where the town bells rang, Fhia was carrying the limp, breathing body of her younger sister on her back. Her upper body soaked in blood, she was lucky to have covered a significant distance from the scene of the crime. However, her luck was running low. The sun was rising and with it, there would be people and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that a blood-soaked individual and one murder would have a link.
“And who do we have here?”
Cold sweat broke out as she realised that she had been discovered by someone.
“It seems you have nowhere to run, what would happen if I call the guards here?”
Behind here, someone placed a hand on her shoulder and a head appeared beside her. She could see the pointed ears of an elf.
“If you become my servant, I will ensure that you two human trash get to see another day.”
*******
Knocking on the door, Fhia re-entered the room and brought a new fruit platter for her elf master. Placing it on the table in front of him, she took a step away from the table.
“Took you long enough, stupid human.”
The high elf reached forward to take one of the fruits but then switched to slapping Fhia.
“Fool. Have you no sense to cut the fruit open? Do it now.”
Holding up the fruit in front of Fhia, she took out a knife and approached her master. After having already killed once before, a second time wouldn’t be that hard plus, she hated the elf enough that his death wouldn’t matter to her … much.
Smiling, walking towards her defenceless victim, she began counting.
“3.” The knife sank into one eye and the un-suspecting elf screamed in pain and fell off his chair, clutching his punctured eye with both hands.
For his three empty promises of calling a doctor and insisting that there were none free.
“2.” The knife pierced the other eye and the agony intensified.
For the two years that he had them trapped here, unable to leave because of her younger sister’s injury.
“1” The knife entered the throat, ending the last breath of life.
For the one and only sister he had taken away from her.
*******
It was not right at all but in order to live, Fhia had to use her sister’s body to cover her tracks. Positioning the two corpses of the dead elf and girl to make it seem like a fight, it would be hard to suspect another person involved.
With nothing left on her, no family name, nothing but the clothes on her, she was free to roam Barkamsted again.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Looking at the child running away, Fhia memorizes how the boy looks like and leaves, knowing it would be pointless to chase as she was not very good at running. For the next few days, Fhia stands at the market in a hooded cloak, watching the passer-bys waiting for one in particular. Her waiting pays off as on the third day, a familiar looking boy was relieving another victim of their purse. Concentrating only on his prize, he did not notice the hooded girl and so, grabbing the collar of his shirt, Fhia pulls him into a nearby alley and to encourage him to follow, she exposes the small knife in her other hand to him before quickly hiding it.
In the quiet, dark alley where no one would interrupt her, she corners the boy against the wall, casually holding a knife in her hand.
"Stealing my purse is not a good idea."
Moving closer to the boy, he cowers and kneels down, not daring to shout. Smiling that the thief understands, Fhia bends down, putting the knife against his cheek.
"Cause if you do it again," a bead of blood forms at where the knife is pressed against his skin.
"This sister won't be nice."
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
There was no other choice. Fhia had no idea how she would take care of three wolf puppies even if she wanted to. The only thing she could offer this unlucky family was a quick death. Carefully approaching the adult wolf, keeping her forced smile up and her hands up, it gave no resistance. Bending down as if to check the trap, Fhia takes out a knife from her sleeve and slits the wolf's throat. Blood spilled out, coating the grey puppies with crimson red.
"S..Sis.You okay?"
The terrible memory of an old incident in her past sprang up in her mind as she watched the little puppies rub their bodies against their dead parent. Grabbing each puppy she covered each of their faces with a cloth and snuffed them out, all the while regretting her actions and enduring her painful heart
Only fill out if you want your character to have magic capabilities. If you do not fill this out then your character will be incapable of performing any form of magic. Also note that it will take significant in character practice and experience to become any form of proficient in magic.
(We only accept high quality magic applications!)
_______________________________________________________________________
( If magic app doesn't succeed, I'm okay with not having magic.)
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: -Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic:
For personal reasons, I haven't played a character with magic since three years ago so I'm aching to try it out again. For character reasons, Fhia is likely going to play the role of a villain/anti-hero so magic would I feel make RP more interesting. Also with a rather morbid history, dark magic is likely the choice of magic for Fhia and with it being illegal, she can easily fit the villain/anti-hero role easier.
Magic is difficult to use in combat as it takes longer to cast. Also, repeatedly using magic will cause mental fatigue which may result in death upon further usage.
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words:
Instead of typing commands to cast spells, searching for characters/items that can teach spells without any consequence, magic are cast through items (artifacts) that can not be created and would mostly be one-of-a-kind.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
Bargaining with the black market dealer, he was obviously cheating her abit too much. Sure in a black market some absurd prices can be expected but paying 10 times the price for wine was just way too much. And it was not just one merchant but every single dealer in the black market. Frowning in displeasure, Fhia explored the dark street, looking to find one stall that sold cheaper wine. However even as she reached the end of the street there was no difference. Looking into one of the alleyways, she found one merchant sitting on a clothe carpet, his goods laid out in front of him.
"Gracious man, how much would that bottle of wine cost?"
Fhia tried flattering the seller, pointing to the bottle of wine.
"That would be xxx lady. Don' expect discounts. Ain't running a charity here."
Making sure that the alleyway was empty, Fhia bent down till she was face to face with the merchant.
"Don't be a spoilsport! Just this once?"
Fhia asked once more, putting on her forced smile and casual tone.
"Take it or leave it, and I suggest you leave it."
He signals with his thumb out of the alleyway. Having lost her patience, she put her hand on the dealer's shoulder. Concentrating fiercely on the trinket, she aimed its magical energies at her hand.
"You have 5 seconds. After that, I'll burn you to a crisp. You know what is magic right?"
The dealer's eyes widened as he did indeed feel his previously cold shoulder get warmer. Hurriedly, he offered the bottle of wine.
"Here just take it! Don't come back!"
He pushed the hand off his shoulder and cowered against the wall, wishing for Fhia to leave.
"Thank you!" She smiled. Putting her warm hand against her cold face, she laughed to herself silently as her trick had worked.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Aethoria
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): pandalurvssheep
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: I have a lot of RP experience, though that doesn't mean that I'm any good. I've been RPing on and off for about five years now, originally on the forums of a site that is now nothing more but broken code, and then again on Aeonis as Aeira. When Aeonis ended, I moved on to less satisfactory RP servers, and then onto Tumblr as an OC, a femslash, and then another OC, and then again on a Minecraft server, SoA.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: I always get the two mixed up, but I think power-gaming is when you do things to characters without their permission, and you are also god-like and impossible to defeat.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is when you use information you have gained OOCly as information your character knows, and can use and abuse.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Aster
-Character race: Dark Elf
-Character age: 57
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): -
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Aster is a female with a lean muscular build, used to running long distances to escape hordes of monsters or deliver goods. Her ears droop low and are four inches long. She is 5'8", and weighs around 140 lbs. Her thighs and calves are her strong point, and so her lower body is more muscular than her upper body. She has white hair with a slight hint of grey, which has been cut short to be out of her way. Her skin in very dark, a few shades up from onyx, but very dark none the less, and her body is riddled with small burn scars, as well as cuts from thorns hitting her during runs. Her eyes are a bright red which could be called scarlet, and are a narrow shape. Her nose is rather large, and her lips are thin. Her cheekbones are high and her jaw is square, making her face somewhat large and unfriendly looking.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Aster isn't always friendly to people, as people aren't always friendly to her, but she's nice enough, and curious for information, sometimes too curious. She spends a lot of time alone, preferring not to listen to idle chatter, but isn't so much of a loner that she never talks to anyone. She could be considered somewhat of a silent observer, taking the passive stance in most conversations, especially if there's more than one person she's in a conversation with. She enjoys books, but when reading, does not like company, therefore, she is rarely seen reading by anyone else. Aster has a dislike for water, and tries to avoid larger bodies of water if at all possible. But, her hatred of water does not outweigh her practicality of going from point A to point B, and she will cross water if that will make her get where she's going faster, albeit with a displeased expression.
Aster also dislikes wide open spaces, and becomes hyper-vigilant when exposed to them, preferring the cramped woods to open fields, and when upset can be found curled up tightly in the smallest space she can fit into. She doesn't always outwardly show emotions, but when she feels the moment is right, will loudly proclaim her opinion on a subject matter, especially if she feels she or those she holds close to her have been wronged. She also rarely ingests alcohol, but is a boisterous, happy drunk, which is probably why she tries to avoid getting drunk in the first place. Fire makes Aster feel nervous, and it shows, as she immediately becomes uncomfortable around open flame. She has a love for nature and for animals, and tries to be as conscientious of keeping nature as clean as possible, and has been seen feeding birds. However, she will still cut down trees and hunt animals if asked. Her personality makes her a good keeper of secrets and a good guardsman. Aster does not get along well with children.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experience): Born during the 70 Year War, Aster's family had fled to Barkamsted when her mother became pregnant. Never knowing of life beyond Barkamsted, Aster lived with her family in the house that her father had built with her two elder brothers for quite a time. Her father and eldest brother worked for the city to help build defenses against the Pact, as well as designing and building houses for the refugees that could not build their own. Aster grew up happy, though she started running supplies to the builders and various craftsmen as soon as she was able, to help out as best as the child could. Though the high elves didn't want her family's help, the humans were grateful for any assistance given in these troubling times. She made friends with the other children that were doing the same thing that she was, though with her senses and stamina she was one of the best 'runners' Barkamsted had.
At the age of 13, Aster started learning how to fight from her mother, how to slink in the shadows, how to use the trees for cover when fighting, and how to protect her family and the city alongside her siblings. Though she was going through training, she was still running supplies for the various craftsmen of the city, which had grown into an actual city as more refugees arrived from the war-torn land. As she trained, her muscles became more firm, especially those in her legs, due to their constant use, and Aster became able to travel for longer and longer distances, though she was deemed not old enough to yet leave to look for supplies by herself. When she was 22, Aster discovered her younger brother playing with some flint and steel. Though she tried to keep the fire tool away from him, when she left for the day to run supplies and find out where he stole it from, her brother set her house on fire. Hearing of her house being set ablaze, she returned as fast as she could to her home. She went into the blaze to salvage what she could, and to rescue her brother, who was at the center of it all. Though she was able to save her brother, and some possessions, almost everything her family owned went up in smoke. Already a quiet child, Aster stopped speaking for a couple years. The fire changed her family's dynamic, and it changed Aster, who blamed herself for not being able to stop her brother from messing with the fire starting materials. They had to reside with the neighbors while the home was rebuilt and the family tended to their burns. Aster herself had several burns from recklessly diving into the burning home to retrieve her brother and what little she did salvage. She couldn't even bear to look at her younger brother for a couple of months, as the family spiraled into a depression. Even now, years later, Aster swears sometimes that she can still smell the smoke on her skin. The house was rebuilt, and her family moved back in, but the damage had been done. It took years to rebuild the amount of possessions they had had before the fire, and the relationships between the family members were damaged irreparably.
Aster moved out of the house when she turned 35, into a smaller house that she could have all to herself. The furnishings were somewhat spartan, as she didn't want or need much. It was then that she started heading out into the wilds to provide supplies for Barkamsted, and would leave for weeks at a time, only to come back with scouting information and anything she could find. Being able to sneak and run fast made her a great unofficial scout, and she was hired officially at 42, though she still continued to supply the city with the goods that she could feasibly carry with her in her bag and also remain as unencumbered as possible. Aster was a pretty good fighter, and had enough common sense to not engage anyone she came across while away from the city. After several years of doing this, she suddenly quit one day, five years ago. It's not as if it really mattered in the grand scheme of things, though some of the older humans missed seeing her, and she retreated into her house for a while, only leaving when she absolutely had to. No lights were ever on in her house, and if Aster didn't leave every once in a while, she would have been presumed dead. She started leaving her house again a few months ago, with as much reason as she had for holing up in the first place, and started doing odd jobs around town. Things had changed during the years that she was disconnected from the world, and she couldn't wait to find out how.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Aster immediately sprints after the child, shoving past the crowds, nose flared and eyes narrowed, legs longer and faster than the child's, and therefore quickly catches up to the little thief. She tackles the child without further ado, scraping her elbows against the ground, which start to bleed. "How dare you?" She snarls, furiously snatching her coin purse from little shaking hands, the human child's eyes wide and watering at the force with which he was slammed into the ground. "Know better." She glares at the human, voice harsh, before she removes her body from his and nimbly gets up and storms away.That's enough of the outside world for today.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
((Assuming that the mother wolf is still alive))
Aster kneels down next to the wolf, petting her flank with soothing hands. "I am sorry." She mumbles respectfully, prying open the bear trap and moving the wolf's leg from it, making soft shushing noises the entire time. Rummaging around in her bag, she removes bandages from it and quickly wraps up the leg. Though not knowing much besides some first aid, she feels to see if the bone is broken. Since as far as she can tell it is not, thankfully, the bone does not have to be set, and the mother should be able to move slowly on its own. As the mother heals her leg, she returns several times to check up on the wolf and its pups, and to bring game if necessary. The smallest pup, unfortunately, dies, but as is the way of the world.
((I hope all of this is okay, and I hope to be accepted, your server sounds really cool!))
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN:thech111
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat):etchedinstone111
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?:
Yes, I have played on many rp servers, holding many rp roles, from playing villains to leading cities. If needed, I can provide a list of servers I have played on.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words
Putting your actions upon other characters, giving them no chance to react. One example being emoting killing somebody, instead of ATTEMPTING to kill somebody.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using information you obtained Out of Character in an IC situation. One example could be that you hear of another player's character's weakness in a skype chat, and then exploit this weakness on the server, though your character never heard of the weakness.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Oliver Malkan
-Character race: Human
-Character age: 30
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Oliver Malkan constantly wears a hood, and often sports clothing that covers his entire body, barring his eyes. Upon his face he has facepaint covering the left side of his face. All of Oliver's clothing has a general blood-red coloring theme, including the climbing bracers on his forearms, and his climbing boots. He is of an average build, but has excellent stamina and upper body strength due to his time running through forests hunting with his bow.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Oliver Malkan cares little for others. His trust is hard-won, and even when he trusts you, he will rarely put his life on the line to save you. Ever a lone wolf, Oliver Malkan only looks out for himself, and will do anything in his power to get what he wants, provided that he doesn't get caught breaking the rules. Devious and cunning, Oliver enjoys toying with the emotions of others, often blackmailing them to bend them to his will. However, he is very capable of feigning interest
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Oliver Malkan was once a simple hunter, who lived in a small village with his wife. But this humble life would not stay with Oliver forever. One day, upon returning to his village from a weeklong hunting excursion, Oliver entered the clearing to find a world of rubble and ruin. Evidently, someone had raided his village, and spared nobody. Oliver sat in the ashes of the home he had shared with his wife. His best friend, his wife of 5 years, lay dead before him, her life having escaped her from the bloody smile-like crescent cut on her throat. Seeking to escape the pain of this place, Oliver travelled far away from his longtime home, overcome with anger, a sense of helplessness, and grief.
Eventually, this anger and helplessness turned into a form of madness. Oliver trusts nobody, and doesn't allow himself to feel emotions. His ultimate goal is to rid the world of people who he disagrees with. These days that mainly involves bandits, though anyone who stands in the way of his vengeance. Through his travels Oliver has been forged into a master of stealth and climbing, as well as subterfuge and manipulation.
Eventually, Oliver's travels lead him to the realm of Saphriel, where he now plans to spread his influence and find out who razed his village those many years ago.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Oliver Malkan would smile, turning towards the direction the child ran off in. He would do his best to keep up with the child, finding the location of their home if possible. Afterward, Oliver would sneak in, stealing back his coin purse, as well as anything of value in the hut. Following this he would most certainly set fire to the location, and when the child returned Oliver would use the distraction of the flame to sneak up near the child and end their life. Oliver would stand above the child as the blood pools from the crescent on the child's neck, and simply say "You should have run faster" before tossing the corpse into the flaming home.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Given that Oliver has a love of nature and animals, he would do his best to save the mother wolf. If this isn't possible, he would end her suffering and bury her, and would afterward attempt to care for the small pups. He could try to raise them to assist him in hunting, but if this wasn't possible he'd send them out in the wild to live on their own.
(Sorry that my biography is terrible and short, as well as the rest of my application. I fractured my thumb a few weeks ago, and typing with a cast is not only arduous, but uncomfortable and tedious.)
In this treacherous world
There is neither truth nor lie;
All is according to the color
of the lens through which we spy.
@ReneeLiong
DENIED
We're sorry, but we don't feel that this character fits the theme that we have in mind for the server. We'd prefer not to have a character running around who can RPly kill anyone that makes them angry. I appreciate the effort that has been put into the application and I'm sorry that it's been denied. We'll happily reconsider if you submit another character that is perhaps more toned down and fits the theme of the server a bit better.
Everywhere you look it's just a torch in a hole.
@DangerousCheesecake
ACCEPTED
A well written application, your character doesn't like too much does she? Hopefully you won't avoid everyone, you'll never RP that way. I'll be sending you a Skype request to add you to the server and we look forward to seeing you on the server soon! The first event will be July 26th around 4PM.
Server IP: 192.99.161.57:25956
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
Everywhere you look it's just a torch in a hole.
@thech111
ACCEPTED
A fairly decent application. We hope to see you on soon.
Server IP: 192.99.161.57:25956
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
When you join the game you are allowed one free home in the city if you so choose, simply pick an unclaimed home that does not have a for sale sign on it and post your name on a sign somewhere around the front door! If you would rather build your own home then you may instead claim any empty area along the roads behind the city and build there, or if you prefer, anywhere you would like in the wilds outside the city limits.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: superplayer1000
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): superskype727
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I play on Lord of the craft and on Planes of Shireli
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Going past your charter limits and per say “powering” up your chacter to do amazing stunts or actions he wouldn’t be able to do. Also swings your sword and emoting just killing the person rather than giving them a chance EXP: “Steve swings his sword at Bob killing bob”
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using out of chacter information to your advantage like exposing this guy as a werewolf that told you on TeamSpeak or something
----IC Info----
-Character name: Krodin Elderwood
-Character race: High Elf
-Character age: 50
-Character Occupation: Krodin does not really have a job. He hunts artifacts and tries to follow his dreams of becoming a powerful being but is known around the city to do odd jobs that people need done. Or anything he can make a quick buck for even “Borrowing” /// if that doesn’t work than an enchanter
-Character description- Krodin Elderwood is a lean 6ft 5 high elf. His hair is blonde and his eyes are a darker baby blue. Krodin often wears casual clothes mostly the color of black and red. Krodin’s face has a bit of an annoyed tone on it when talking to most people. He is on the lean but muscular side but not able to lift something very heavy. His face looks a quite wary
-Character personality and traits: Krodin's doesn't know when to quit he is ignorant and will do many things for gain. Sometimes Krodin doesn't know when to be serious or when he is beat. Krodin is a rather shallow person in general but when warms up to someone he is quite kind. Krodin has a friendly outside most people will think he is a good person. Krodin is sometimes ignorant of others emotions and feelings.
-Character biography: Krodin was born into a well set off family. He doesn’t have a father since he left when he was very young. While growing up Krodin was rather aggressive with other children, with no prominent father and his mother light hearted he grew up untamed. Ever since the age of 15 Krodin could be reading about the gods and magic. He was enthralled at theses tails of beings of great power and he has seeked to gain power since then.
When Krodin reached the age of 30 he moved out of his mother’s home and went off on his own. He bought a house/business place in a settlement some distance away. Krodin happy to finally be on his own had realized something… He has no trade! Worried about cash Krodin asks around town if anyone had odd jobs for him to do for cash. Surprisingly people did have a lot of odd tasks for him to do like lumberjacking, farming and some carpeting. Krodin now decided he has enough money to peruse his own goals like enchanting. Krodin has had poor gaps in between the jobs in theses “Gaps” Krodin would resort to thievery and is sort of a habit of his.
Krodin is now 50 he is using Enchanting as a sort of hobby to support his other interests. These other interests include: Treasure hunting, Artifacts hunting and general knowledge gathering. Krodin is now pursuing Artifacts and magic with little success, turns out that artifacts are rarer than he thought. Krodin is still doing odd jobs now and also his other “hobbies”. Krodin still thieves whenever he can find an easy target such as an open window with no one around.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
Krodin noticing the kid running with his coin purse rushes after him. After out running the kid and tackling him near the town fountain he snatches his purse and looks upon the kid. Krodin feels anger but also a little pity. Yelling at the kid and threating to break his fingers if he does such a thing again, He gives the kid a few coins hopping that is enough to feed him.
Krodin hearing whines while walking in the forests comes to check what is making such squeals. He stumbles upon a mother wolf trapped and her baby cubs surrounding her. He picks up the cubs one by one putting them in an empty sack. They will make good hunting wolves later and maybe I could get the farmer to give me money so I don’t get my wolves to hunt on his land. As for the mother, Krodin knows she wouldn’t be able to live out here so instead of letting her starve Krodin nox an arrow in his bow, aims, and fires hitting the wolf in the head wanting her not to whimper from a slow death. Krodin gets the pelt from the mom and his on his way to town with the intention of selling the pelt.
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: Magic rp, Treasure hunting and general lore of the topic has been some of the best rp experiences I have had
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: The power of the magic you use is based upon the artifact you have thus even a Uber all mighty mage can’t do a lot with a basic trinket. Also mages aren’t the strongest of people generally relying on magic rather than physical labor
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: Everyone has “Magic” inside of them although few know how to control it or let it flow out of their body. It does depend how proficient you are with magic to what level artifacts you can use but even a powerful mage can’t do a lot of a basic trinket.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket: I decided to write a little showing what I could do
Krodin putting on the basic fire ring looks ahead of himself. Krodin sighs “I can do this.” After breathing in and out for some time Krodin tightens his hand and points it at the candle sitting on the stand in his room. A small flame appears at the candle lighting it. After a few minutes of heavy breathing he is amazed at what he just did Krodin looks upon the flame, proud.
P.S: I have edited it now
@Supahminecrafterofthevoid
DENIED
This application is lacking in a couple areas. I would greatly appreciate expansion on character personality and traits as well the character biography. Remember, the biography needs to be at least three paragraphs, while I would barely consider that one paragraph. You may either edit your current post or post another application. If you edit the current one please send me a message, otherwise I may not notice. When these changes are made we will gladly reconsider accepting you onto the server and I wish you the best of luck with your writing.
Everywhere you look it's just a torch in a hole.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: xXKyle_JXx
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): (Will PM if accepted)
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?: I played on the Lord of the Craft server as multiple characters for many months (quit because some of the staff were breaking rules).
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is pretty much being forceful with your RP, or go for a specific goal and ignore important parts of the RP process. For example you cannot run up to someone, kill them, and walk away as simple as that.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is the act of mixing OOC and IC. For example, if someone was to type something and their name is revealed, a stranger cannot call that person by their name without them telling them ICly.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Nervarn Adler
-Character race: Dwarf
-Character age: 74
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): Nervarn used to be a miner in his younger years, and is currently a black smith.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Nervarn is a 4'3" Dwarf with a very bulky and stout frame. He has medium length light brown hair, which is almost always neatly tucked in a helmet that he forged himself, and has his prized piece of topaz secured in the lower front of the helmet. He has a rather long and thick beard that reaches his belt almost which is the same colour of his hair, it is separated into two parts, each secured in place with a piece of gold. He has emerald green eyes, and a permanently dirty face and arms/hands from his past as a miner. He also wears a navy tunic and navy pants with knee and shin protection, as well as a set of worn out leather gloves that he uses daily.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Nervarn is a very simple Dwarf. He is very masculine and muscular which is a cause from his work. He likes doing what he does as a blacksmith and also loved mining back in his younger years, with the ambition of getting back into the mining industry. He is very caring and gentle, although there are many people that view him as scary or intimidating, which he does not like being seen as those things. Nervarn loves his city of Barkamsted and does not have any intentions of leaving his home, and wants to maintain his business as well as see it grow.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences): Nervarn was born into a refugee camp, both of his parents were members of the camp after their old home was destroyed by the Pact. He had a good childhood, he was very ignorant and unaware of the problems going on for most of his childhood, but he was always happy. His mother was a beautiful woman, with long hair and a small frame who worked as a florist before the war. His father was a very tall Dwarf, who measured 4'7" and was very respected in their old village, and always loved mining, with the dream of becoming a black smith and opening up his own shop
Nervarn's father unfortunately passed away in a mining accident, and Nervarn wanted to honour him so he got into mining. He taught himself all sorts of things about ore and different techniques of mining and his mother helped him prepare for emergencies, as her survival instincts were very honed. So he entered the mining business and wanted to do the best he could and still continue his simple life, and after the war he moved to Barkamsted and became one of the first people to dig in the new-founded mines.
Nervarn always wanted to keep a simple life and loved what he did, but one day something hit him, he was thinking about his father and remembered how much he wanted to become a black smith and have his own shop. Nervarn idolized his father and wanted to become everything that he was and live on his legacy, and creating armour and weapons for a living was still simple. So one day, he went on his last mining expedition and left his old job. He bought a plot of land and began to create his shop from the ground up, and read all the books he could find about smithing. He was very successful and was still very happy with his simple life, but he would always daydream about being in the mines once again.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed. Nervarn turns around to see where the robber is, and notices that he is a child, but gets a good look at him - a small human boy with dark brown hair wearing a green tunic. Nervarn never did anything too exciting that cost money, and always got great joy from saving his money. Being robbed by this child did not bother him too much, he felt bad for the kid being raised so poorly. Nervarn is not very quick as well, so he just collects his losses and goes home to get some more money so he can buy some more mead and materials to work with at his smith. He leaves and then returns a few hours later, but he sees someone that looks very familiar, and then he realizes who it is. It is the boy that stole his coin purse! Nervarn approaches the child and asks him if he knows he who is. The child looks ashamed and keeps his head down and does not say anything. "Where are yer parents?" Nervarn asks concerned. "A-at home." The child replies. "Are ya hungry?" Nervarn asks. "Yes, very." the boy replies quickly. "Well how 'bout ya give back me coin purse and I'll buy ya some food and a drink." says Nervarn with his arm extended. The boy gives back the coin purse and apologizes for doing what he did and Nervarn forgives him and buys him some bread and milk from a nearby stall.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population. Nervarn runs to the trap and asses how injured the wolf is, and if she'll survive after she's set free. It looks like the wolf's not badly injured, so he decides to get the trap off the wolf as she has pups to care for and teach, much like Nervarn's father taught him almost everything he knows. So he begins to pry open the trap but for some reason it won't come off the poor wolf, so he has to think of what he can do. He tries a few more times using his hands and it still won't come off. He looks around seeing if there's anything that he can use to get the trap open. he finds a large stick that doesn't seem like it will break without a fight, and begins to try using that. After a few tries the trap comes off the wolf and Nervarn slowly backs off and watches the pups run up to her and jump at her as she limps off in the forest.
Actually if you read the lore it is a rare occurance but can happen. I did not see Blackmsted was the only settlement and I really doubt that is the case. Since other places are mentioned or basicly the they went "somewhere else". Also do I really need a reason? Some are gifted with it at birth I don't belive a simple child would have a idea to what to use this power for.
Well My chacter was born around 50 years ago he would of have time to move to the "other cities" before they were attacked. I should of said he lives in blackmsted now and to be honest I didn't read the complete lore.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: superplayer1000
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat): superskype727
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I play on Lord of the craft and on Planes of Shireli
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Going past your charter limits and per say “powering” up your chacter to do amazing stunts or actions he wouldn’t be able to do. Also swings your sword and emoting just killing the person rather than giving them a chance EXP: “Steve swings his sword at Bob killing bob”
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using out of chacter information to your advantage like exposing this guy as a werewolf that told you on TeamSpeak or something
----IC Info----
-Character name: Krodin Elderwood
-Character race: High Elf
-Character age: 30
-Character Occupation: Krodin is more or less a book seller. He gather information throughout the lands and sells it for a price. He is also tending to deal in artifacts always willing to buy them. Krodin’s greed of information has also gotten him to steal it. Among stealing information Krodin often steals minerals, swords, Jewels and any artifacts he can get his hands on.
-Character description- Krodin Elderwood is a lean 6ft 5 high elf. His hair is blonde and his eyes are a darker baby blue. Krodin often wears casual clothes mostly the color of black and red. Krodin’s face has a bit of an annoyed tone on it when talking to most people. He is on the lean but muscular side but not able to lift something very heavy. His face looks a quite wary
-Character personality and traits: Krodin's doesn't know when to quit. He is ignorant and will do many things for gain. Sometimes Krodin doesn't know when to be serious or when he is beat. Krodin is a rather shallow person in general but when warms up to someone he is quite kind. Krodin has a friendly outside most people will think he is a good person. Krodin is sometimes ignorant of others emotions and feelings.
-Character biography: Krodin was born into a family of first generation Blackmsted born High elves. It was a tough change for his parents but for him everything seemed normal. Since the school district wasn’t giving special right to high-elves their children was mixed in with the other races. Growing up Krodin talked to and even made friends with kids of different races. Although living in a house with “Pure bloods” he would often hear slurs of other races. When angry Krodin sometimes uses theses slurs to offend people but apologizes after calling theses mishaps his “roots”.
15 years old now Krodin heard cheering coming from the center of town. Krodin rushed there wondering what all the excitement was about. Upon his arrival there he sees them… The hunter’s guild. Clashing men in suits of armor. Women wanted them. Men wanted to be them and anyone who said otherwise was a liar. Since than Krodin has sought to be a Huntsman
Krodin 30 now decided to move out on his own and get a home on the other side of town. Krodin growing up now realizes that he is too weak to join the hunter’s guild and decided to take up a craft instead. Krodin decided to now be a book seller and information gather. Krodin has been stealing from others though to help support himself. He steals information and often sells this information to others… for a price. Krodin has found interests in theses “artifacts” he has heard so much about and has some books on the matter.
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-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
Krodin noticing the kid running with his coin purse rushes after him. After out running the kid and tackling him near the town fountain he snatches his purse and looks upon the kid. Krodin feels anger but also a little pity. Yelling at the kid and threating to break his fingers if he does such a thing again, He gives the kid a few coins hopping that is enough to feed him.
Krodin hearing whines while walking in the forests comes to check what is making such squeals. He stumbles upon a mother wolf trapped and her baby cubs surrounding her. He picks up the cubs one by one putting them in an empty sack. They will make good hunting wolves later and maybe I could get the farmer to give me money so I don’t get my wolves to hunt on his land. As for the mother, Krodin knows she wouldn’t be able to live out here so instead of letting her starve Krodin nox an arrow in his bow, aims, and fires hitting the wolf in the head wanting her not to whimper from a slow death. Krodin gets the pelt from the mom and his on his way to town with the intention of selling the pelt.
-Describe to us why you wish for your character to have magical capabilities: Magic rp, Treasure hunting and general lore of the topic has been some of the best rp experiences I have had. I wish for my chacter to have magic because it is an interesting dynamic for he would use magic for a little fighting but would avoid fighting in general unless vs monsters.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic: The power of the magic you use is based upon the artifact you have thus even an Uber all mighty mage can’t do a lot with a basic trinket. Also mages aren’t the strongest of people generally relying on magic rather than physical labor
-Please give a simple description of the magic system in your own words: Everyone has “Magic” inside of them although few know how to control it or let it flow out of their body. It does depend how proficient you are with magic to what level artifacts you can use but even a powerful mage can’t do a lot of a basic trinket.
-You are given a very basic trinket of fire, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket: I decided to write a little showing what I could do
Krodin sets up a small candle on the floor. Krodin siting criss-cross apple sauce accrose from the candle he breaths in and out. Krodin places his right hand (The one with the fire trinket ring on it) face down above the candle and his other hand above that also facing down. Krodin sits and breaths for minuites what feels like hours, trying to channel his aura into his hands than into the ring. Krodin focuses on the candle closing his eyes imaging it lit, imaging the heat touching him. The sound of a candle lighting can be heard. Krodin removes his hands and gasps in joy. “Oh thank you Bothimir for blessing me great one.” Krodin says a little loudly. “I must train.” Krodin thinks aloud....
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN:
Larcon_Caine
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat):
tgaugir16
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
Yes. I had played on Kingdom of Aeonis, as well as several World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy XIV roleplay guilds. I have also played Dungeons and Dragons several times, and have hosted sessions of Dark Heresy (a Warhammer 40k spinoff). Before all of that I had chat site roleplays, and those were a bit of a mixed bag.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power-gaming is when you play your character to an overpowered extent, and often force other characters to do things without consent to the players.
A combat RP example would be:
Blair: Swiftly hoists his rapier in the air, the steel reflecting the sun into his opponents eyes. While his enemy is blinded, he thrusts forward with a harsh stab into his neck, quickly drawing the blade out as blood spurts everywhere. Tony is now bleeding out violently and will die in four seconds.
(Tony's player)
In this example, Blair went straight and killed Tony without giving him a chance to react, and without his consent.
However, this result could be also in reverse.
Knight: The knight swings his powerful broadsword toward the farmer's unarmoured chest; a vicious blow that would like leave the man bleeding and crippled.
Farmer: Quickly jumps back from the trained knight's sword, making a face and waving his pitchfork.
Knight: Roars a frustrated roar as he presses his assault, this time with a vicious slash toward his arm.
Farmer: Deftly avoids the sharp steel and jumps away, continuing his mockery of the knight.
This encounter continues on with the knight slashing and attacking and the farmer endlessly dodging.
In that example, the Farmer would be powergaming, because avoiding damage forever is just as bad as forcing damage on another player.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Meta-gaming is when you take character that you, as a player, know, and apply it to your character.
For example; 'I know that Jeuce has a secret base out in the boonies so now my character knows there's a secret base out in the boonies'
This is more extreme, however, and another example that could be considered metagaming is; "I know that Jeuce has a secret base out in the boonies so my character now has a strange urge to go study the boonies."
----IC Info----
-Character name:
Sylvia Savant
-Character race:
Human
-Character age:
23
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
None; though she would call herself a scholar and wishes to be a librarian
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Sylvia is a plain, unremarkable girl. At the short-ish height of five feet, she has lightly tanned skin often covered by a light linen robe with a matching hood, dyed a whitish colour to prevent overheating herself in hotter days. Sylvia carries a walking staff, not imbued with any form of magic, it's simply a good, sturdy stick. Underneath the robe she carries an over the shoulder bag with a book, an inkpot, and a quill. She also wears a simple, leather "breastplate", and underneath that, a black tunic with dark brown pants and black hiking boots.
She has a smooth face, slightly thinner lips than average, and behind those lips she has pearly white teeth, though they are not straight. Her canines stick forward slightly (no, she is not a vampire), and one of her top two front teeth is a bit folded past the other. Her eyes are dark blue with bags under them, often because she gets little to no sleep in favour of reading. She has dark brown hair, which is often covered by the hood.
Her body, underneath the robe, isn't stunning to any degree, and she's often jealous of many other women, both humans and elves alike, for their assets. She has a thin build, most of her muscles come from walking and carrying books and other objects, leaving most of her soft and thin, but bony in some joints, such as her wrists and ankles. Barely shapely, there are often times she is mistaken for a male, her leather vest all but hiding her breasts and the robes hiding any other curves and her feminine hair anyways.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Sylvia has a huge desire to learn. She can sometimes seem cold and selfish, but that is not the truth. The truth is she favours knowledge over all, including human life. She often also skulks behind buildings or in alleyways to listen in on people, she loves to hear gossip and rumours. This does not mean she doesn't like people, though; quite the contrary, for if her actions to see new things and read new books hurt another human, she would feel remorseful and depressed for days, even if she would repeat the action the next day, had she the chance.
Sylvia is a pacifist, and as such will try to derail and avoid any combat she can. If she can't stop a fight from happening, she will try and run away.
Sylvia is passive-aggressive, often too scared to deal with problems herself, but causing minor inconveniences to others as a form of petty revenge. This includes stealing small objects, sneaking rodents or birds into other's houses, messing with intricate designs, and so forth
Sylvia hates children. She has little interest in seeing them and no interest in ever having a child herself. This doesn't mean she will beat every child she sees, or even insult or cuss them out, but she will try to avoid social activity with them.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Sylvia was born to a household just outside Barkamsted, the eldest of five siblings. As she was young, her life was easy, but as more children entered her life she found she was often bogged down with more and more chores, such as looking after the younger ones and cleaning and tending to fields. It was a lot for her, to constantly deal with her brothers and sisters, and time only stood to wear her down even further. It was all so same-y and stressful and... boring, to her. She found no excitement in watching wheat or potatoes or children grow. The children's simple minds and games were never any fun to Sylvia, as hiding under beds and running to touch each other (tag you weirdos) never much appealed to her.
Thus, she began to resent her home life, and it showed in the way she acted. Around the age of thirteen, she began to lash out against her younger siblings, and bad mouth her parents. This caused many tears between her parents and siblings, and often times she would find herself feeling alone, sad, empty. She began hearing her parents having arguments, and soon completely fighting, screaming and hitting each other. She distanced herself even further, and with little support to turn to, began to take interest in reading and learning. This swiftly became her favourite thing in the world; new ideas, new knowledge, these all excited her and she quickly became addicted. Spending hours at a time away from her needy siblings and fighting parents, she could read her days away. History books quickly became her favourite, satisfying her craving for knowledge with heroes and villians and gods and treasures of old.
Despite being happier, she didn't improve much when she was actually at home. Her brothers soon outgrew her and began to fight back against her violent ways, leaving her fearful of home as she was beaten to the ground with her hair tugged without mercy. At age seventeen, she listened to another fight between her parents -- the last she would hear, as her mother stormed out, never to be seen again. Now having to fill her mother's role of watching over and cooking for the household, cleaning and taking care of children, she became a complete wreck, with never any time to escape to her passion. She herself only lasted two years before running off on her own at the age of nineteen, the work being too much for her to handle. How her mother managed to cope with children, she would never know.
Now she was homeless and jobless, with little experience. 'Well...' she thought, 'I do know how to cook and clean...'
With that thought in mind, she went to the city, looking for work to keep herself fed. Soon she found a job for a local inn keeping the place clean and serving customers. This place doubled as her home, and despite having to pay for room and board, she managed to do quite well for herself. Even a busy day of dealing with customers was better than constantly looking over five children, and she was guaranteed a break at the end of the day when the shift was over. Finally, time to pursue her reading again, and even with a room to call her own.
Days turned to weeks, turned to months, turned to years, and she worked the bar and paid her room. Things were beginning to get a bit dull for Sylvia again; she found herself more and more agitated and frustrated by her simple job. She tried to keep her emotions under control, and seemed to be able to hide her dissatisfaction, until one day she snapped. She saw her brother, the one who had tormented her most as a teenager, and went completely berserk. Cussing him out, throwing mugs at him and attacking him were a few things that was witnessed by the bar's patrons. Naturally, this was not seen as "good for business", and the next morning she was out on the street again with only her savings from work, some literature and the clothes on her back.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Sylvia walks through the hot noon-ish sun, leaning on her walking staff to help support the heavy satchel she constantly carried. As she peruses the stalls still open, she feels the weight of her coinpurse become completely non-existent, and she turns to find a child sprinting.
"Get back here, you thieving brat!" She yells, lifting the staff and chasing after the child. She kept on the child's heals until she could catch up enough to tackle him to the ground. Pinning him down, she forcefully tugs her coinpurse from his thieving fingers, before standing up and dropping it in her satchel, where she opted to leave it from now on.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Sylvia sits down on a tree stump and looks sadly down at wolf and her cubs. She didn't want to kill the wolf, but to set it free would probably be a massive danger to herself and the livestock of the farmers that lived nearby. With a heavy heart, she stands and continues her journey. Perhaps soon, someone with more mercy than her could set them free, or kill them.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN:
Hong_Meiling
-Skype name (Optional, for server chat):
I don't use skype, sorry!
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I've been a Owner, Developer and Lore manger going on 10 years now... through my decade of experience I've penned lore for various servers and story arcs ranging from simple fetch quests, to entire complex socio-politcal systems for nations with thousands of years of history.... I've got experience in player/consumer engagement and how best bring a community forward and keep them hungry for more content...
As a personal note, I was on the launch team of Fallout: Sins of our Fathers, back when it launched originally, I headed up the administration team and the Brotherhood of Steel during launch and for several months onward, only reason i stopped was due to the mind numbing pain of schooling, and familial medical issues but being so I'd love to help out in any capacity! Whilst under myself and my Co-Admin's care and guidance our server witnessed a 30% growth in the servers population with easily 70% retention rates among new and old players alike, our income and revenue, via donations, grew easily 45% due to an active playerbase and their fond love and generous charity to give back to our server owner for creating such a wonderful place to play and engage in the story of Fallout!
I've got the drive and motivation to provide quality lore, characters and ample time to engage in universe building... I've been round Minecraft since Indef... I've played it too and fro, unique concepts for stories are eternally engaging! I do hope to be considered! Outside of Minecraft, I've played dozens of characters, from various table top games, ranging from Call of Cthulhu (Personal fav!), to Only War, and the Rogue Trader series of games... I've Game Mastered many of my own campaigns and I love to engage my audience and write interactive and living stories that broach into topics pertinent to the modern day and age! I've penned a few poetic pieces that have won regional and national competitions back when I was in school, I currently am penning a novella myself, So let there be no fear pertaining to my love of writing!
My experience of roleplay and the craft extends far beyond the realm of simple minecraft roleplay. I've been an avid D&D GM and player at various gameshops and in some local conventions since the advent of 3e, I've run countless campaigns and ventured trek-less distances with players from all walks of life and from dozens of different cultures and life styles. I routinely review my works diligently to ensure player feed back is optimal and satisfactory, because at the end of the day, we are all here just playing a game! We outta have fun whilst we do it!
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power Gaming includes the forcing of actions upon another player without giving them a proper chance to respond or retort, and in addition it includes over engineering a character to be far too imbalanced within the confines of roleplay. E.G; Mary Sues/Gary Sues, Superman... Individuals like that with unbelievable powers.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
The use of ill-gotten information whilst out of character, to provide some substantial boost to your character or position, this can include ore-meditating or abusing weaknesses listed on someones character sheet, or tidbits about their past that haven't come to be public knowledge via the course of roleplay.
----IC Info----
-Character Rame:
Thyra "Grim Hammer" Stonefang
-Character Race:
Dwarf
-Character Age:
97
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!):
Served as a miner for the earliest portion of her life, roughly from her youth up until her 45th year, before following her father and eldest brother into the anvil of war. There after she served as a warrior up until the present day. As such she is a able miner, and equally dour warrior.
-Character description(At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing at a stocky 4'8 with heavy musculiture from her duties and time upon the fields of strife and within the endless tinkering within the earth, Thyra is a durable and stoically built female for her race. Upon her head rests a thick and mangled mane of auburn locks that rest braided with heavy bands upon her back. Upon her countenance and frame be dozens of grizzled scars and nicks from countless close calls in her time upon the fields.
Her frame is usually clad with thick traveling leathers and few faded trinkets from the ancestral home of the Dwarves. She possesses two azure eyes, one faded and milky and failing due in part to a crude pikes strike to her old helms visor. She bears upon her frame thick trails of tattooed blue ink upon her body, worked into her flesh to designate her kin's marking, indicating she was a daughter of the Stonefang clan.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Dour and possessing a dry wit, there is little of Thyra that one does not see upon first meeting with this weary and scarred dwarven maiden. She is stoic and firm when it comes to task she must handle herself, she is known to be curt and short of temper when agitated or goaded. She is found drunken many a day, as she many a times refuses to function in her daily life without several pints of ale in her gullet, whilst many chuckle at this presuming such is common of Dwarves, it is clear that with each pint of ale Thyra consumes, she buries some guilt deeper within her weary soul.
She is not vain nor conceited, but does demand equal respect to that which she provides. It is worth noting though, she does bear unhealthy and some would say obsessive hatred and loathing of the Pact and their kin, there is no sooner or swifter way to ignite her tar pitch flames of hatred then to bring forth mention of them or the mountains of Thonduhm.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Once long ago now it seems, this a free spirited and rapturous dwarven maiden from the bustling halls of Thonduhm, was bright eyed and eager to engage the world and its unknown wonders beyond the stone halls of the dwarven hold. But now all that remains is a wiry and dour husk of the once excitable and energetic lass from ages long past. Thyra was born 25 years before the war's outbreak, unto the line of Baldur Stonefang, an extended and hearty and staunchly traditional family from deep within the mountain hold of Thonduhm. Her father served as a foremen for a region of the mine dubbed by the workers as the Deeping Hold, as such he was a mirthful and jolly fellow as any and the heart and soul of the Stonefang clan. Thyra was the second youngest to be born to her mother and father, she indeed infact claims to have had two brothers, one many years her senior and a younger brother many her junior.
Being the middle child to the expansive and extended Stonefang line, Thyra was routinely overshadowed by her myriad of cousins and her own siblings. As such she shirked the routine and expected courses that a maiden of the family would hold, and instead spent her days toiling endlessly within the Deeping Hold with her father and eldest brother, eternally intent to prove her worth to the family and esteem herself within the eyes of dwarvish culture. Whilst in the depths of the mines expanses, she learned of the nearly endless dangers that poised themselves to take the miners lives, she being a swift learner was taught a myriad of lessons beneath the unforgiving stone of the earth, these years shaped her and ground her spirit and body, hardening her like the stone she worked with for so long.
It was upon her 45th year, many years into the opening days of the Pact's driving wave into the verdant lands of the Alliance, that her father and his kin, were summoned up from the depths of the Deeping Hold, and pressed forth into the standing army that ride forth in perpetual waves to break the coming tide of the Pact's forces. The Stonefang family, being staunch proponents of tradition, answered the calling by sending forth their first born and those of able body into the fray. Being the head of the family clan, Baldur rallied his kin and joined with the marching forces of the Alliance. Whilst strongly dissuaded from joining the march, Thyra refused to leave her father Baldur's side and with them along she marched.
For the next few decades, Thyra spent her time marching with the forces of the Dwarven Hold and members of the Alliance, it was said she could be found alongside her brother and Father, heavy warhammer grasped firmly between her armored hands, fighting with zeal unmatched in the defense of her kin. Each battle drew more and more flesh and blood from the dwarven host, the brutal summer heat and the freezing caress of winters bite, steadily wore heavily upon the once high spirited band of dwarven warriors. After a brutal encirclement within a forlorn vale who's name time had forgotten, Thyra's eldest brother was smote down by the crushing club within the grasp of a trolls hand along with many of their own blood and kin before they could be pulled and extracted from this hellish encirclement by friendly forces. Disheartened and weary from the fighting, the now forty yeared bloodied veterans of Stonefang's clan, were pulled from the fray and given time to mourn their costly dead. Though their rest would not be found, as Thyra mourned her lost brother and fallen cousins, word reached the Dwarven hold that the Pact had shattered the last few bulwarks between themselves and the city of Thonduhm.
Whilst it is said the mighty bastion of the Dwarves held forth the longest against the damnable and streaming tides of the Pact and their relentless attempts to batter down the monolithic gates and hold of the Dwarves, the day did come when even the might of stone can be washed away by the power of the waters stream. With the once glorious gates of Thonduhm in ruin, with foes streaming forth into the Dwarven hold, not once did Thyra nor the Stonefang clan falter in their duty. The Stonefang Clan, tasked with defending the Deeping Hold, and one of the rumored causeway that would permit the civilians of Thonduhm to flee their city in dire times, established themselves in the narrow causeway at the throat of the hastily converted mining tunnel. Numbering nearly one hundred able bodied warriors, the hammers and axes of the Clan met with the brutal iron and leather of the combined Pact forces, as they swept through the now panicked city.
Whilst many other clan's and regiments fought their battles within the monolithic cities blazing ruins, the Stonefangs made their stand within the Deeping's Holds yawning maw, buying time for innocents to flee the onslaught and chaos of the invaders. For nearly 12 hours, the Warriors of the veteran warband, stood four abreast, hammers and axes and pikes driving back each thrust of the Pact's forces, each wave leaving more and more of the warband slain and fallen as they were steadily driven back, boot-step by boot-step.
Upon the 12'th hour, Baldur Stonefang was smote by a great and terrible orc and was hauled down, his head removed and placed upon a pike, further breaking the failing morale of the now heavily diminished warband. With less then twenty seven bedraggled warriors, Thyra took her father's charge, and drove against the endless tide of the Pact, maddened by the loss of her father and her kin, the warband drove on frenzied in grief, as they managed to detonate makeshift explosives set days prior in the event the forces found themselves unable to hold. The titanic detonation brought down the mouth of the tunnel upon both the dwarves and the Pact's forces within this specific area of the mines. With the heaving sigh, the earth gave way, as Thyra welcomed her death at the hands of the unyielding stone, instead of upon the end of an orc's cleaver. It seemed such a fate would not come to the grief stricken dwarven shield breaker, she found herself trapped at the edge of the tunnels, the few remaining dwarven warriors of her band digging her free and hauling her away as she wailed in protest to be buried with her kin.
With her armor rent and hammer shattered, she was taken through the mining tunnels by her few surviving kin, the band numbering no more then six, joined with the few fleeing refugees from the cities fall, as they made their way, westward towards the bastion of Barkamsted. It was said that fewer then 85% of the dwarven folk that dwelled within the towering halls of Thonduhm survived, it is said that Thyra considers herself unlucky for failing to join her kin and father in the cold tomb of earth within the Deeping Hold. Though, in the 2 years since the close of the war, and the uneasy peace that followed, Thyra has served as a mercenary and sellsword, having been given the nick name of "Grim Hammer" due to her hollowed and straight forth approach to situations and problems, it is clear the maiden of Stonefang seeks but one thing, and that is absolution for the death of her father and to draw blood from the Pact till the sea of blood that proverbially drowns the city of Thonduhm, is repaid in full....
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each.)
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Thyra would have tied her belt tightly about her waist, as she shifts heavily, shouldering her way through the thick crowd on the route towards her haven, she growls and grimices at the constant influx at this hour, casting disdainful glances up towards humans or taller folk that fail to move aside quickly enough for her liking. She sighs and smacks a hand onto her face as she waits for a pair of humans to end their conversation and move. She bristles sharply as she feels her coin purse move, her honed reflexes snatch at her now empty belt, she growls and spots the child darting away, she shifts and bellows sharply "T'o Harvin' Runt! Get yee back 'ere wth my gold! Thief! Swine! Guards!!" She would attempt to shove her way through the crowd in heated and glowing pursuit of the child, veins in her neck swelling in rage, None make fools of Stonefangs she swears, None.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Thyra would trudge through the thicket, rearing up and swatting away a petulent shrub that refuses to budge, as she makes her way back towards the city. She exhales tiredly, the murky haze of her ale had slowly been ebbing from her, she groans as she makes her way down a crest, mind consumed with thoughts of booze. Till her ears catch sound of said whining from nearby, she would pause and make her way over yonder. Coming across the afore stated scene. She would pause and stare solumnly at the ensnared wolf, her eyes wearily snapping shut, as she shakes her head. She would make her way over towards the entrapped wolves and its pups, and growl sharply as a bear towards them "Oi! Oi! Stop ya squirmin, ya gonna tear ya goddamned leg off.... 'Ere Easy lass, easy... Lemme open it fer ya..." She would shift forward, and attempt to free the wolves foot from the trap as she exhales "Sod the farmers, this ain't how you supposed to fight a foe, ain't no honor killin 'im from miles away.... Bloody farmin gits..."
@ Supahminecrafterofthevoid
PENDING
This application is pending due to needing feedback from other staff members. Sorry once again for the delay.
Everywhere you look it's just a torch in a hole.