Minecraft Account Name: Angrboden
How old are you?: 20
Time-Zone/Country of Residence: Western Canada
Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes I do.
Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Indeed. It's a very big thing in my family, just about everyone does it. I also LARP monthly.
Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes! =)
How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: I heard about it from my cousin, who actually had this account. We tend to bounce around servers with it, but this one is supposedly quite highly aclaimed.
Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: I, personally, haven't submitted any.
Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : I'll do that.
Definitions
In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: Roleplaying is sort of like improv acting without an audience. You occupy an imaginary character, and place the character in situations to engage in living a realistic universe different from our own. Makes for some lovely story writing!
In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: Using out-of-character information to gain an unfair in-character advantage.
In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: Using overpowered actions to gain an unfair advantage. /emote punches your head off. It's not cool.
Though I totally could punch your head off.
In-Character Details
Character Name: Melmer o'Humn
Character Race: Halfling
Character biography - Make this at least 2 paragraphs long, which must explain your character’s history, appearance, personality, age and any other details you deem necessary:
Melmer was a young-hearted halfling who was steadily approaching his middle age. Living in the chaos of a constantly tumultuous world, all he ever wished for was the ability to live as a halfling should, happy, modest, and with many-a-friend. As an o'Humn, the love of a humble life ran in his blood- but as a citizen of Asulon, it wasn't in ready supply. When the ships began eastward, he saw it as an opportunity. If he was the first out- a frontiersman, claiming the lands not yet seen by a farmer's eye, he could build a life for himself. He could have his humble world.
So he pieced together his own ship, and began eastward- eventually getting separated from the fleet due to an accident in navigation. Lost in a storm, it soon became that all the little fellow had left was his dog. He could have sworn it'd be his end, as he couldn't afford to share what little bread he had left with his hound- before a human tradeship came across him. They rescued him, fed him, and took him to the lands in the east.
He allowed the captain to keep his dog, as the man seemed quite taken with the pup, on the promise that he'd take better care of it than an enterprising halfling could. And with that, he started out, hoping to find his way.
What are your characters ambitions?: To start a farm, and to find a way to live cozy under the protection of one of the kingdoms- safe from the fears of banditry and war.
Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here:
Is there anything else you would like to say about your character:
Open-Response-Questions
Each question here must be answered with a minimum of one full paragraph, and detail the scene you are given in the way it would happen in roleplay. These questions should be answered in first person. Be detailed, not short.
Upon entering the Mighty Human City of Arethor, you come across a shop-keeper calling out to sell his wares to passers-by. The shopkeeper is not a Human, he is a poor dwarf looking to make a living in a new city. What is your response?
I would be certain to examine his wares, though moreso out of dutiful obligation. On the off-chance that I'm in a city, it'd be for my own business- but I'd never let go an opportunity to help out another fellow in need.
On that note, I'd probably buy something out of obligation as well, though I'd have a big smile on my face. Trying my hardest not to be pushy, I'd see if he had anything to do after he was done working. Maybe I could buy him an ale!
You’re wandering the Oren Road late at night, when a large Orc begins to threaten a nearby dwarf. There is no help nearby, and the situation looks like it will escalate into violence soon, what does your character do?
My first thought would be to run. Put as much distance between me and danger as is conceivably possible. If I manage to choke that down, though, my best bet would be to approach and try to defuse the situation. Using humor, a smile, and strategic positioning of myself between the two of them. If it ends up violently regardless, though, you'd better believe I'm running back home. I've never held a sword in my life, and I don't very well plan to!
Whilst walking down the road to Malinor, you stumble upon an old man. His walking stick , looks weak and frail, and just as you are about to ask something, the stick breaks, and the man falls to the ground. As he falls down, a bag of Minas falls to the ground, and splits open. As you watch the multiple coins spill out, you peer down at the defenceless man. What does your character do?:
After I manage to strangle out my surprise, I'd gather his minas and place it safely back on his person, before helping him back up. I'd try my best to help him along, though my stature might make that a bit difficult, towards my home. The old fellow could use a meal and a quick place to rest after taking a dive like that- and knowing he's safe I'd be able to go out and find some help. To make sure he's alright- or at the least, to get him a new walking stick.
Still something amiss, check it up!
-power-gaming. Still not quite there, sorry. You're thinking to big here, try writing this again, be sure to check our definitions!
Check that uo and re-apply, this app is
Alright... Uhm..... XD Idk why this is giving me so much trouble... I'ma... Okay. Think I got it.
Powergaming: Being unfairly powerful in RP- either doing unrealistic, superpowered things to bend the situation in your favor, or stealing control of other players' characters to dictate how they react.
OOC: IGN: Angrboden Age: 19 Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is. Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt. Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted. Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs. Define Power-gaming in your words: Making it so that your character can do unrealistic and overpowered things that make it less fair- and less fun- for other players. Ex: 1. You are really good at scientific things, so you know how to use a computer to make a super-force-field that no one you don't like can't get in. 2. You got lessons from your uncle, so you can shoot someone in the head so that a bullet bounces off their brain and shoots someone else in the head. (Actually saw that in RP once. =P It was... Rather awkward for everyone else.) This also includes taking advantages of other players' characters in ways that usually require OOC permission first- such as killing or corrupting, perhaps ultra-irradiating in post apocalyptic RP, without the other player agreeing to act it out.
IC: Name: Anne 'Mauler' Nickname: Strep-throat Age: 29- stopped aging at 23 Gender: Female Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily. Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland. All this aside- if given a position of power, she becomes dark and ruthless- having still been raised in a raider camp. Though she's not evil to the core, she'll definitely take pleasure in being able to be cruel and untouchable- however if she's vulnerable and endangered, she becomes soft-hearted and kindly spoken.
In-game RP example: CL: You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee. *He fades back into the shadows of the camp.* Anne: *She starts out, and looks around the sleeping camp. The sleeping raiders were only slightly illuminated by the embers of the dying bonfire.* CL: *The dark silhouette can be seen skipping over the raiders, occasionally rifling through a pack off to the side, examining the contents.* Anne: *The ghoul scrambles out, nearly tripping and falling to her certain death atop a raider.* Hey! Wait! *Her scratchy voice whispers harshly.* CL: *The figure stops, and snaps her a rather annoyed look, before continuing on his little mission.* Anne: *Skips and hops rather unprofessionally over her sleeping captors, trying to close the distance between her and the elusive rogue.* Slow down! CL: What?! *He snaps with a stressed whisper.* Anne: *She pulls to a stop a couple yards from him, panting.* What's your name? CL: *He reaches down to his side, and produces a shoddy looking pistol. He zeroes it in on her, and growls.* Flee, wastrel. Anne: Oh- oh! Oh dear- Oh! *She ducks down, and skitters away from the bonfire full-tilt. It would seem she outstayed her welcome in his company- if there was any welcome there in the first place.*
Background: (Apologies- initially didn't want it to be too long. You seem to get an awful lot of textwalls. X3)
Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
When the time came that the NCR begun expanding eastward, her pack decided that the Californians' tough regulations and attitude for safety and stability didn't suit their offside interests as raiders. They started east, away from the approaching line of republicans, and deeper into the barbaric interior of America.
When in a scouting party- looking for a complex to settle the pack in for a time- a patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing only her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why. What little food and water she could find was dreadfully irradiated- the nearest hotzone was the remains of Salt Lake City, and they had been heading towards it.
The radiation wore on her form, and her mind- and before too long she had become another monstrosity of the wastes. Three weeks, she was gone- scrambling through pockets of radioactive waste and heavy fallout- itching to find her way back to the pack.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
She spent roughly a half a year- kept as a sort of pet to the raiders. She was fed the same scraps they fed their dogs- and before long she had accepted them gratefully. No more was she a treasured possession of their leader- now she was simply a bottom feeder they'd let out to frighten the other captives, a useless wretch they'd beat for their amusement.
The band kept moving eastward- approaching the birthplace and grand influence of Caesar's Legion. While the raiders had it through their heads that they'd be left alone, an imperialist power keeps all assets under harsh control. One of the nights, while Anne lay curled in her cage in the shadows of a bonfire, a shadowy agent of the Legion came through the camp. No violence was observed- simply checking up on them and fishing through their possessions.
He stumbled upon her cage, and recoiled in silent disgust. He flashed a look to the raiders, and back to her. Then, with a barely audible 'snap', smashed the lock with a wicked looking serrated blade. Before she could say anything, the Legionnaire's sympathetic appearance vanished with a hiss. "You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee." She nodded vigorously, and he started off.
She slipped out of the cage, and after a painfully unenlightened back and forth with the agent, started eastward- deeper into the safety of the Utah wastes- the radiation, now her closest ally, accepting her with a warm embrace.
Also! Nuka Cola is tasty. Don't know how I missed that at first. X3
(( Never before have I had so many issues with a power-gaming question. XP I think I'm wording it funny... ))
Define Power-gaming in your words: Making it so that your character can do unrealistic and overpowered things that make it less fair- and less fun- for other players. Ex: 1. You are really good at scientific things, so you know how to use a computer to make a super-force-field that no one you don't like can't get in. 2. You got lessons from your uncle, so you can shoot someone in the head so that a bullet bounces off their brain and shoots someone else in the head. (Actually saw that in RP once. =P It was... Rather awkward for everyone else.) This also includes taking advantages of other players' characters in ways that usually require OOC permission first- such as killing or corrupting, perhaps ultra-irradiating in post apocalyptic RP, without the other player agreeing to act it out.
OOC: IGN: Angrboden Age: 19 Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is. Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt. Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted. Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs. Define Power-gaming in your words: The portrayal of a character's powers to be beyond an acceptable capability for the balance of inter-character powers- 'making your character do something that's too powerful, and unfair in RP'. No character is Superman, no character can survive a nuke- characters should be relatively equal when it comes to chances of victory.
IC: Name: Anne 'Mauler' Nickname: Strep-throat Age: 29- stopped aging at 23 Gender: Female Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily. Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland. All this aside- if given a position of power, she becomes dark and ruthless- having still been raised in a raider camp. Though she's not evil to the core, she'll definitely take pleasure in being able to be cruel and untouchable- however if she's vulnerable and endangered, she becomes soft-hearted and kindly spoken.
In-game RP example: CL: You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee. *He fades back into the shadows of the camp.* Anne: *She starts out, and looks around the sleeping camp. The sleeping raiders were only slightly illuminated by the embers of the dying bonfire.* CL: *The dark silhouette can be seen skipping over the raiders, occasionally rifling through a pack off to the side, examining the contents.* Anne: *The ghoul scrambles out, nearly tripping and falling to her certain death atop a raider.* Hey! Wait! *Her scratchy voice whispers harshly.* CL: *The figure stops, and snaps her a rather annoyed look, before continuing on his little mission.* Anne: *Skips and hops rather unprofessionally over her sleeping captors, trying to close the distance between her and the elusive rogue.* Slow down! CL: What?! *He snaps with a stressed whisper.* Anne: *She pulls to a stop a couple yards from him, panting.* What's your name? CL: *He reaches down to his side, and produces a shoddy looking pistol. He zeroes it in on her, and growls.* Flee, wastrel. Anne: Oh- oh! Oh dear- Oh! *She ducks down, and skitters away from the bonfire full-tilt. It would seem she outstayed her welcome in his company- if there was any welcome there in the first place.*
Background: (Apologies- initially didn't want it to be too long. You seem to get an awful lot of textwalls. X3)
Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
When the time came that the NCR begun expanding eastward, her pack decided that the Californians' tough regulations and attitude for safety and stability didn't suit their offside interests as raiders. They started east, away from the approaching line of republicans, and deeper into the barbaric interior of America.
When in a scouting party- looking for a complex to settle the pack in for a time- a patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing only her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why. What little food and water she could find was dreadfully irradiated- the nearest hotzone was the remains of Salt Lake City, and they had been heading towards it.
The radiation wore on her form, and her mind- and before too long she had become another monstrosity of the wastes. Three weeks, she was gone- scrambling through pockets of radioactive waste and heavy fallout- itching to find her way back to the pack.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
She spent roughly a half a year- kept as a sort of pet to the raiders. She was fed the same scraps they fed their dogs- and before long she had accepted them gratefully. No more was she a treasured possession of their leader- now she was simply a bottom feeder they'd let out to frighten the other captives, a useless wretch they'd beat for their amusement.
The band kept moving eastward- approaching the birthplace and grand influence of Caesar's Legion. While the raiders had it through their heads that they'd be left alone, an imperialist power keeps all assets under harsh control. One of the nights, while Anne lay curled in her cage in the shadows of a bonfire, a shadowy agent of the Legion came through the camp. No violence was observed- simply checking up on them and fishing through their possessions.
He stumbled upon her cage, and recoiled in silent disgust. He flashed a look to the raiders, and back to her. Then, with a barely audible 'snap', smashed the lock with a wicked looking serrated blade. Before she could say anything, the Legionnaire's sympathetic appearance vanished with a hiss. "You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee." She nodded vigorously, and he started off.
She slipped out of the cage, and after a painfully unenlightened back and forth with the agent, started eastward- deeper into the safety of the Utah wastes- the radiation, now her closest ally, accepting her with a warm embrace.
Also!
Nuka Cola is tasty. Don't know how I missed that at first. X3
OOC: IGN: Angrboden Age: 19 Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is. Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt. Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted. Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs. Define Power-gaming in your words: The portrayal of a character's powers to be way beyond their acceptable capabilities- in such a sense that it causes discomfort for other players and an imbalance of power in your favor.
IC: Name: Anne 'Mauler' Nickname: Strep-throat Age: 29- stopped aging at 23 Gender: Female Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily. Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland. In-game RP example:
Nil1: Hey- could you go check up on the ghoul?
Nil2: He sighs, and rolls his shoulders. "Yea, I guess." He starts over to the cage.
Anne: Hidden in the shadows, off to the side, she tries to slow her frantic breathing.
Nil2: "Hey- she's gone!"
Nil1: *grabs his gun* You're kidding me- I just checked up on her five minutes ago?
Nil2: "The lock- it's cracked- quick, pan the area!"
Nil1: You got it. *hastes off to check the perimeter*
(Just a short example- shows both the traditional style of MC RP and the more narrative form me and my sister always use- I went back and forth to show that the two can be used together- though if you prefer me to use the traditional style, I won't argue. ^^)
Background: Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
The day came, while out on patrol with her father and a few others, that she would lose her place of prestige amongst her band of wasteland rabble. A patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
First of all, lolfail, Roguesteeler. XD Sorry. It's true.
Secondly, do you -have- to have Mumble to join? I lack a microphone, and it merits a bit of an asspain to go acquire one. I sent a message to the thread owner, but my messages have a habit of not coming through.
In-Game-Name:Angrboden
Age:17
Past Servers:Not gonna' write them, but not many. A couple private ones, a couple public ones. All RP. Was moderator on all of 'em.
Why Do You Want To Play Here:For RP. Not enough good RP servers anymore. Applied to Kingdom of Ardath, but after a week I still haven't been white-listed due to laziness in the front of server updating.
Past Bans:My last server, I left with a large rant. One of the people on there was being extremely sexist, and the others were either agreeing with him, or defending him. Not sure if I've been banned, but after what I put on the forums IDK if any sane person wouldn't ban me. XD Don't be racist, don't be sexist, we'll get along fine.
Applied. I can only pray that you'll accept me. =D This world promises RP of such beautiful proportions. Even if I am denied, just looking at the pictures could be enough. :happy.gif:
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Minecraft Account Name: Angrboden
How old are you?: 20
Time-Zone/Country of Residence: Western Canada
Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes I do.
Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Indeed. It's a very big thing in my family, just about everyone does it. I also LARP monthly.
Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes! =)
How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: I heard about it from my cousin, who actually had this account. We tend to bounce around servers with it, but this one is supposedly quite highly aclaimed.
Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: I, personally, haven't submitted any.
Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : I'll do that.
In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: Roleplaying is sort of like improv acting without an audience. You occupy an imaginary character, and place the character in situations to engage in living a realistic universe different from our own. Makes for some lovely story writing!
In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: Using out-of-character information to gain an unfair in-character advantage.
In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: Using overpowered actions to gain an unfair advantage. /emote punches your head off. It's not cool.
Though I totally could punch your head off.
Character Name: Melmer o'Humn
Character Race: Halfling
Character biography - Make this at least 2 paragraphs long, which must explain your character’s history, appearance, personality, age and any other details you deem necessary:
Melmer was a young-hearted halfling who was steadily approaching his middle age. Living in the chaos of a constantly tumultuous world, all he ever wished for was the ability to live as a halfling should, happy, modest, and with many-a-friend. As an o'Humn, the love of a humble life ran in his blood- but as a citizen of Asulon, it wasn't in ready supply. When the ships began eastward, he saw it as an opportunity. If he was the first out- a frontiersman, claiming the lands not yet seen by a farmer's eye, he could build a life for himself. He could have his humble world.
So he pieced together his own ship, and began eastward- eventually getting separated from the fleet due to an accident in navigation. Lost in a storm, it soon became that all the little fellow had left was his dog. He could have sworn it'd be his end, as he couldn't afford to share what little bread he had left with his hound- before a human tradeship came across him. They rescued him, fed him, and took him to the lands in the east.
He allowed the captain to keep his dog, as the man seemed quite taken with the pup, on the promise that he'd take better care of it than an enterprising halfling could. And with that, he started out, hoping to find his way.
What are your characters ambitions?: To start a farm, and to find a way to live cozy under the protection of one of the kingdoms- safe from the fears of banditry and war.
Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here:
Is there anything else you would like to say about your character:
Upon entering the Mighty Human City of Arethor, you come across a shop-keeper calling out to sell his wares to passers-by. The shopkeeper is not a Human, he is a poor dwarf looking to make a living in a new city. What is your response?
I would be certain to examine his wares, though moreso out of dutiful obligation. On the off-chance that I'm in a city, it'd be for my own business- but I'd never let go an opportunity to help out another fellow in need.
On that note, I'd probably buy something out of obligation as well, though I'd have a big smile on my face. Trying my hardest not to be pushy, I'd see if he had anything to do after he was done working. Maybe I could buy him an ale!
You’re wandering the Oren Road late at night, when a large Orc begins to threaten a nearby dwarf. There is no help nearby, and the situation looks like it will escalate into violence soon, what does your character do?
My first thought would be to run. Put as much distance between me and danger as is conceivably possible. If I manage to choke that down, though, my best bet would be to approach and try to defuse the situation. Using humor, a smile, and strategic positioning of myself between the two of them. If it ends up violently regardless, though, you'd better believe I'm running back home. I've never held a sword in my life, and I don't very well plan to!
Whilst walking down the road to Malinor, you stumble upon an old man. His walking stick , looks weak and frail, and just as you are about to ask something, the stick breaks, and the man falls to the ground. As he falls down, a bag of Minas falls to the ground, and splits open. As you watch the multiple coins spill out, you peer down at the defenceless man. What does your character do?:
After I manage to strangle out my surprise, I'd gather his minas and place it safely back on his person, before helping him back up. I'd try my best to help him along, though my stature might make that a bit difficult, towards my home. The old fellow could use a meal and a quick place to rest after taking a dive like that- and knowing he's safe I'd be able to go out and find some help. To make sure he's alright- or at the least, to get him a new walking stick.
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He's not bad about it. A couple times a day. -shrug- Just gotta' be patient.
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Alright... Uhm..... XD Idk why this is giving me so much trouble... I'ma... Okay. Think I got it.
Powergaming: Being unfairly powerful in RP- either doing unrealistic, superpowered things to bend the situation in your favor, or stealing control of other players' characters to dictate how they react.
If not- pleaaase, give a girl a hint. x.x
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IGN: Angrboden
Age: 19
Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is.
Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Making it so that your character can do unrealistic and overpowered things that make it less fair- and less fun- for other players. Ex: 1. You are really good at scientific things, so you know how to use a computer to make a super-force-field that no one you don't like can't get in. 2. You got lessons from your uncle, so you can shoot someone in the head so that a bullet bounces off their brain and shoots someone else in the head. (Actually saw that in RP once. =P It was... Rather awkward for everyone else.) This also includes taking advantages of other players' characters in ways that usually require OOC permission first- such as killing or corrupting, perhaps ultra-irradiating in post apocalyptic RP, without the other player agreeing to act it out.
IC:
Name: Anne 'Mauler'
Nickname: Strep-throat
Age: 29- stopped aging at 23
Gender: Female
Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily.
Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland. All this aside- if given a position of power, she becomes dark and ruthless- having still been raised in a raider camp. Though she's not evil to the core, she'll definitely take pleasure in being able to be cruel and untouchable- however if she's vulnerable and endangered, she becomes soft-hearted and kindly spoken.
In-game RP example:
CL: You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee. *He fades back into the shadows of the camp.*
Anne: *She starts out, and looks around the sleeping camp. The sleeping raiders were only slightly illuminated by the embers of the dying bonfire.*
CL: *The dark silhouette can be seen skipping over the raiders, occasionally rifling through a pack off to the side, examining the contents.*
Anne: *The ghoul scrambles out, nearly tripping and falling to her certain death atop a raider.* Hey! Wait! *Her scratchy voice whispers harshly.*
CL: *The figure stops, and snaps her a rather annoyed look, before continuing on his little mission.*
Anne: *Skips and hops rather unprofessionally over her sleeping captors, trying to close the distance between her and the elusive rogue.* Slow down!
CL: What?! *He snaps with a stressed whisper.*
Anne: *She pulls to a stop a couple yards from him, panting.* What's your name?
CL: *He reaches down to his side, and produces a shoddy looking pistol. He zeroes it in on her, and growls.* Flee, wastrel.
Anne: Oh- oh! Oh dear- Oh! *She ducks down, and skitters away from the bonfire full-tilt. It would seem she outstayed her welcome in his company- if there was any welcome there in the first place.*
Background: (Apologies- initially didn't want it to be too long. You seem to get an awful lot of textwalls. X3)
Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
When the time came that the NCR begun expanding eastward, her pack decided that the Californians' tough regulations and attitude for safety and stability didn't suit their offside interests as raiders. They started east, away from the approaching line of republicans, and deeper into the barbaric interior of America.
When in a scouting party- looking for a complex to settle the pack in for a time- a patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing only her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why. What little food and water she could find was dreadfully irradiated- the nearest hotzone was the remains of Salt Lake City, and they had been heading towards it.
The radiation wore on her form, and her mind- and before too long she had become another monstrosity of the wastes. Three weeks, she was gone- scrambling through pockets of radioactive waste and heavy fallout- itching to find her way back to the pack.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
She spent roughly a half a year- kept as a sort of pet to the raiders. She was fed the same scraps they fed their dogs- and before long she had accepted them gratefully. No more was she a treasured possession of their leader- now she was simply a bottom feeder they'd let out to frighten the other captives, a useless wretch they'd beat for their amusement.
The band kept moving eastward- approaching the birthplace and grand influence of Caesar's Legion. While the raiders had it through their heads that they'd be left alone, an imperialist power keeps all assets under harsh control. One of the nights, while Anne lay curled in her cage in the shadows of a bonfire, a shadowy agent of the Legion came through the camp. No violence was observed- simply checking up on them and fishing through their possessions.
He stumbled upon her cage, and recoiled in silent disgust. He flashed a look to the raiders, and back to her. Then, with a barely audible 'snap', smashed the lock with a wicked looking serrated blade. Before she could say anything, the Legionnaire's sympathetic appearance vanished with a hiss. "You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee." She nodded vigorously, and he started off.
She slipped out of the cage, and after a painfully unenlightened back and forth with the agent, started eastward- deeper into the safety of the Utah wastes- the radiation, now her closest ally, accepting her with a warm embrace.
Also!
Nuka Cola is tasty. Don't know how I missed that at first. X3
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Define Power-gaming in your words: Making it so that your character can do unrealistic and overpowered things that make it less fair- and less fun- for other players. Ex: 1. You are really good at scientific things, so you know how to use a computer to make a super-force-field that no one you don't like can't get in. 2. You got lessons from your uncle, so you can shoot someone in the head so that a bullet bounces off their brain and shoots someone else in the head. (Actually saw that in RP once. =P It was... Rather awkward for everyone else.) This also includes taking advantages of other players' characters in ways that usually require OOC permission first- such as killing or corrupting, perhaps ultra-irradiating in post apocalyptic RP, without the other player agreeing to act it out.
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IGN: Angrboden
Age: 19
Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is.
Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs.
Define Power-gaming in your words: The portrayal of a character's powers to be beyond an acceptable capability for the balance of inter-character powers- 'making your character do something that's too powerful, and unfair in RP'. No character is Superman, no character can survive a nuke- characters should be relatively equal when it comes to chances of victory.
IC:
Name: Anne 'Mauler'
Nickname: Strep-throat
Age: 29- stopped aging at 23
Gender: Female
Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily.
Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland. All this aside- if given a position of power, she becomes dark and ruthless- having still been raised in a raider camp. Though she's not evil to the core, she'll definitely take pleasure in being able to be cruel and untouchable- however if she's vulnerable and endangered, she becomes soft-hearted and kindly spoken.
In-game RP example:
CL: You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee. *He fades back into the shadows of the camp.*
Anne: *She starts out, and looks around the sleeping camp. The sleeping raiders were only slightly illuminated by the embers of the dying bonfire.*
CL: *The dark silhouette can be seen skipping over the raiders, occasionally rifling through a pack off to the side, examining the contents.*
Anne: *The ghoul scrambles out, nearly tripping and falling to her certain death atop a raider.* Hey! Wait! *Her scratchy voice whispers harshly.*
CL: *The figure stops, and snaps her a rather annoyed look, before continuing on his little mission.*
Anne: *Skips and hops rather unprofessionally over her sleeping captors, trying to close the distance between her and the elusive rogue.* Slow down!
CL: What?! *He snaps with a stressed whisper.*
Anne: *She pulls to a stop a couple yards from him, panting.* What's your name?
CL: *He reaches down to his side, and produces a shoddy looking pistol. He zeroes it in on her, and growls.* Flee, wastrel.
Anne: Oh- oh! Oh dear- Oh! *She ducks down, and skitters away from the bonfire full-tilt. It would seem she outstayed her welcome in his company- if there was any welcome there in the first place.*
Background: (Apologies- initially didn't want it to be too long. You seem to get an awful lot of textwalls. X3)
Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
When the time came that the NCR begun expanding eastward, her pack decided that the Californians' tough regulations and attitude for safety and stability didn't suit their offside interests as raiders. They started east, away from the approaching line of republicans, and deeper into the barbaric interior of America.
When in a scouting party- looking for a complex to settle the pack in for a time- a patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing only her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why. What little food and water she could find was dreadfully irradiated- the nearest hotzone was the remains of Salt Lake City, and they had been heading towards it.
The radiation wore on her form, and her mind- and before too long she had become another monstrosity of the wastes. Three weeks, she was gone- scrambling through pockets of radioactive waste and heavy fallout- itching to find her way back to the pack.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
She spent roughly a half a year- kept as a sort of pet to the raiders. She was fed the same scraps they fed their dogs- and before long she had accepted them gratefully. No more was she a treasured possession of their leader- now she was simply a bottom feeder they'd let out to frighten the other captives, a useless wretch they'd beat for their amusement.
The band kept moving eastward- approaching the birthplace and grand influence of Caesar's Legion. While the raiders had it through their heads that they'd be left alone, an imperialist power keeps all assets under harsh control. One of the nights, while Anne lay curled in her cage in the shadows of a bonfire, a shadowy agent of the Legion came through the camp. No violence was observed- simply checking up on them and fishing through their possessions.
He stumbled upon her cage, and recoiled in silent disgust. He flashed a look to the raiders, and back to her. Then, with a barely audible 'snap', smashed the lock with a wicked looking serrated blade. Before she could say anything, the Legionnaire's sympathetic appearance vanished with a hiss. "You'll find no more mercy from me, wastrel. Flee." She nodded vigorously, and he started off.
She slipped out of the cage, and after a painfully unenlightened back and forth with the agent, started eastward- deeper into the safety of the Utah wastes- the radiation, now her closest ally, accepting her with a warm embrace.
Also!
Nuka Cola is tasty. Don't know how I missed that at first. X3
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IGN: Angrboden
Age: 19
Time you can dedicate: 2-8 Hours a day, depending on how easy to find RP is.
Why us?: I've been on many RP servers before- and whilst the last one was quite enjoyable, I encountered a snag of a personal nature- I shared my account with someone very close to me who passed away, and now whenever I log on- people tend to.. Mistake me, which hurts a bit. ^^ I decided it'd be better to go somewhere else- and since I haven't done a Fallout RP in a handful of years, I imagined it couldn't hurt.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is, in a sense, a form of acting. Occupying another entity- be it of your creation or the creation of another- and acting in such ways that the entity would act. In certain scenarios, one can play the entity so well that it personifies itself as an entirely different force that one can channel through it- that part aside, it's the, as the name would suggest, playing of a role separate from your own. Taking a character and controlling it to help birth stories and creative works- usually with the cooperation of others, and most times unscripted.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: The usage of OOC knowledge to influence IC decisions. You and your character are separate entities- your own opinions and knowledge should not affect theirs.
Define Power-gaming in your words: The portrayal of a character's powers to be way beyond their acceptable capabilities- in such a sense that it causes discomfort for other players and an imbalance of power in your favor.
IC:
Name: Anne 'Mauler'
Nickname: Strep-throat
Age: 29- stopped aging at 23
Gender: Female
Appearance: She goes through an effort to hide the effects of ghoulification- but her efforts are usually for naught. What skin shows is torn and reddened, and her voice reverberates bloodily.
Personality: She's had little contact with other ghouls- and has developed a shy, reclusive attitude because of such. She's afraid of violence- as well as many other things- but can be cheery and helpful if she trusts someone. However- she can't always be trusted- as her way of life has developed in such a way she'll often resort to petty theft and opportunism to survive in the Utah wasteland.
In-game RP example:
Nil1: Hey- could you go check up on the ghoul?
Nil2: He sighs, and rolls his shoulders. "Yea, I guess." He starts over to the cage.
Anne: Hidden in the shadows, off to the side, she tries to slow her frantic breathing.
Nil2: "Hey- she's gone!"
Nil1: *grabs his gun* You're kidding me- I just checked up on her five minutes ago?
Nil2: "The lock- it's cracked- quick, pan the area!"
Nil1: You got it. *hastes off to check the perimeter*
(Just a short example- shows both the traditional style of MC RP and the more narrative form me and my sister always use- I went back and forth to show that the two can be used together- though if you prefer me to use the traditional style, I won't argue. ^^)
Background:
Anne grew up with a pack of raiders. She was respected as being a calmer, kinder individual- and as the daughter of one of their bloodthirsty leaders, she was largely left alone. She had a particular shine for medical advances and shifty skills- the raiders often donating their overused playthings for her to dissect and examine. This allowed her to develop a rather grim acceptance of the natures of the wasteland- but also made her quite useful to the often-endangered raiders.
The day came, while out on patrol with her father and a few others, that she would lose her place of prestige amongst her band of wasteland rabble. A patrol of Caesar's Legion shot down her father and the others- her reclusive manner allowing her a careful escape. For a number of days she lived alone- lost in a particularly radiated part of the wasteland. At one point, she found herself in a grouping of feral ghouls. To her surprise, they left her alone. Tired, slow-minded due to thirst and hunger, it took some time to dawn on her why.
The American wasteland shows no mercy. She often thinks of how she'd have been better off shot down by the Legion- upon returning to her camp, she was thrown in a cage and treated like an animal. No longer a father to protect her, now hideous and disgusting- and all her lying friends, the drugged up raiders, simply saw her as another plaything.
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Secondly, do you -have- to have Mumble to join? I lack a microphone, and it merits a bit of an asspain to go acquire one. I sent a message to the thread owner, but my messages have a habit of not coming through.
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Age:17
Past Servers:Not gonna' write them, but not many. A couple private ones, a couple public ones. All RP. Was moderator on all of 'em.
Why Do You Want To Play Here:For RP. Not enough good RP servers anymore. Applied to Kingdom of Ardath, but after a week I still haven't been white-listed due to laziness in the front of server updating.
Past Bans:My last server, I left with a large rant. One of the people on there was being extremely sexist, and the others were either agreeing with him, or defending him. Not sure if I've been banned, but after what I put on the forums IDK if any sane person wouldn't ban me. XD Don't be racist, don't be sexist, we'll get along fine.
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Username: Angrboden
App ID: 10676
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