• 0

    posted a message on The Elder Scrolls: Gold Coast - Serious Roleplay Server
    Quote from grabthebleach»

    thanks, still need a whitelist


    The server is still finishing up the building stage. It should be ready to launch next Friday, Ideally.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on The Elder Scrolls: Gold Coast - Serious Roleplay Server
    Quote from grabthebleach»

    Application:


    -OOC (Out of character)-

    Minecraft Username: grabthebleach

    Age: 16

    Past experience with roleplay: I woke up at 4:30 A.M. today and now for the life of me I cannot remember more than two MCRP servers I've been on over the past couple years, however, I can rest assure you, I've been playing D&D since 2011 and MCRP since 2013 and have been on over 15 dif. servers, ranging from fantasy, to dystopian, to medieval.

    What is “Meta-gaming”?: Using information ICly which you have previously obtained from an OOC source.

    What is “Power-gaming”?: Making your character invincible, unbeatable, or overpowered, usually most prevalent in RP PvP.

    -IC (In character)-

    Name: Original name unknown, goes by the nickname Pungo

    Age: 30

    Race: Orsimer

    Appearance: Before you stands probably the jolliest, and smallest Orc you've ever seen in your entire life. If you say that you've seen him once without a grin spanning from ear to ear, you might want to get your eyes checked. He stands at a meager 5'3, with sickly grayish-green skin across his entire body. Despite being vertically challenged, he still has quite a pudgy build, though he is in no way fat. His hygiene is decently kept, for an Orc at least. His teeth are only slightly yellow and his clothes only slightly smell like fish. He has no hair on his body whatsoever besides small tufts of white hair coming out of his ears.

    Personality: As said, he's likely the jolliest Orc you've ever seen in your whole damn life. He's slightly dull, as he thinks everyone is his friend, and is more likely to be conned or tricked. However, if you anger him badly, he'll likely throw a tantrum and by God will it be a mess.

    Abilities (Magic and Skills):


    * Good fishing skills


    * Strong upper body strength from lugging around giant nets full of fish for 10 hours a day


    * Ability to stay upbeat throughout almost everything


    * Near complete lack of fear, as he believes everything is his friend and doesn't believe in evil whatsoever

    Backstory (Please write a minimum of 1 paragraph. Quality over quantity.):


    (Will be deleting this after I'm accepted. Archive it if you want to keep it)


    After nine long months of waiting, a savage Orc tribe that lived deep within the mountains of Tamriel were not pleased when a sickly, frail baby was announced as the son of the Chieftain, the Chieftain specifically. They decided he was to be left for dead in the woods, while the chief promptly resumed "getting down to business" with his many wives in hope for a strong heir.


    While the child was left out in the wild overnight, the stars seemed to align for young Pungo, as a kind-hearted middle-aged couple happened to be hiking through the mountains at that very time. They took pity on the helpless child, mistaking it for a human child in the dark of night. They hadn't yet realized it was an Orsimer until they arrived back to their prairie house and saw the defined orclike features under the torchlight. Now, the couple was unable to conceive a child even though they desperately wanted to raise one, but they were in no way willing to raise an Orc baby. He was sent to a local academy where he spent the first fifteen years of his life until being released to go live on his own.


    His go-to was fishing, and he'd travel from village to village casting nets in lakes and rivers and selling the fish to local merchants to make decent profit. The profit was so decent in fact, after about 6 months of travelling from village to village, he saved up enough coin to buy himself a small cottage in the village he spent the first fifteen years of his life in, as well as a horse to travel from town to town on his lonesome. He lived this lifestyle for fourteen more years before seeing posters tacked to wooden boards all over the town. He brought one of the posters to a village elder, as Pungo had never learned how to read, and the elder told him they needed working men for a new settlement. Pungo, after a few days of mulling, decided to mount his horse and take a ride to the nearest vessel heading for Anvil.


    App itself seems good, only thing I would tell you about is that Power gaming is forcing an action upon another player. With that out of the way, you are...

    Quote from Zimmeme»

    Out-Of-Character Information
    Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate.

    Minecraft Account Name: Zimmeme

    How old are you?: 15

    Time-Zone: US Central

    Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Yes I have

    What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Many servers, Aeonis, Fallout, Lots of Fantasy Servers too

    How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: My two friends, Lucas99801 and Gisewindblade

    Link any applications that you have previously made for the server: none

    Have you posted this application on the Minecraft Forum? If not, then please do so (link above): Yes

    Have you read the Dwarven lore, and shall you ensure you make use of it and follow it in your biography?: Yes

    Definitions
    In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:

    Role-playing: Playing/acting the role of a character given, or created by yourself

    Meta-gaming: Using information your character does not kniw within roleplay

    Power-emoting: Doing actions that your character is not capable off, such as lifting a mountain

    In-Character Information:
    Complete the following biography on your character:

    Full Name: Duren Longbeard

    Current Age: 36

    Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): "My story starts here. In a hole in the ground there lived a Dwarf. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a Dwarven-hole, and that means home, to me. In this hole there lived two Dwarves, Angus Longsword, and Annabel TrimBeard. They fell in love, not a simple love that ends within days: it was the love that brings families together for generations. Back in Aegis these two fell in love, their passion brought with them a feud that almost ended the history of the best Dwarven mead of the northest villages. When Angus and Annabel fell in love, they fell hard, bringing goth their families into a fierce battle of dowries. Neither side wanted to place a dowry since they lacked any money to do so and both parties expected a dowry from the other. Angus and Annabel went off on their honeymoon within the Mead Cellar as the two families battled against something that didn't matter. The Longsword family was known for its master swordsmanship. The TrimBeards where known for their undieing pride, this brought problems all over the small village of Du'Kaz, war almost broke out between both families. Once Annabel and Angus came back, they came back to a problem that would tear them apart. Annabel was so disgusted she wanted to leave, Angus's great love for Annabel made him follow hand in hand, step in step. The families realised they lost their young and ended the feud, shaking hands never to put either family in that position, meanwhile, Angus and Annabel left creating a pact sealing them together forever and ending their ties to their family. Annabel had the bright idea of creating a new name, one that combined TrimBeard and Longsword. She suggested: Longbeard, since Angus had a long beard and Annabel had a... Nevermind, lets continue. With this new name, The Longbeards where created, forging the a family with strong hands and unsurpassed brewing skills, yet their pride would bring them close to extinction."

    Duren takes a sip of his ale and continues writing.

    "The Longbeard family existed through the era of Aegis, stronger than they ever where. In many ways the Mead Brewing clan got themselves into politics on accident and for lobbying of ideas. Longbeard was a name known as the leading brewers of most towns, expanding into the Human kingdoms as well. The Longbeard name was associated with the upper class, due to their immense wealth and network of relatives strewn across the lands. They where powerful, and power kreeps to ones head, slowly, but surely. The Longbeards helped the kingdom explore Asulon, with intrest of opening new business. The Longbeards expanded to fast, not enough business emrged in the region and they slowly crumbled. Quickly they tried to re-establish back in Aegis stronger than before. This became problematic since new Ale breweries came to town soaking up the rest of the business. The Longbeard name fell from power, they became desperate. Garish Longbeard, a young Dwarf lad, had the idea of turning to crime. Him and his two lackies beat up a local leaving a rival brewery. Word got out to the other Longbeards about this, they became furious and held a Longbeard council. During the council voices where thrown at each other, Mugs, and knives too. One dwarf sat cooly, Garish. He eventualy rose and yelled for them to settle down. The Young Dwarf began speaking; 'If we encourage brigands outside rival breweries, and we advertise the safety of ours, people shall change their minds.' The other Dwarves began thinking about this idea, many questions where raised, many did not want to participate but the majority encouraged them to join the masses. With this new tactic business boomed once more, but many became suspicous. Guards where positioned at other breweries, One brigand was caught and confesed the whole ploy. Business boomed in Aegis and Asulon at this point. There was now proof to bring this massive monopoly down. All business was shut down all 300 members of the longbeard clan where arrested. The Longbeards did not know how to survive without ale, slowly some died, while others knew there must be change. The remaining 237 Longbeard leaders rose up in prison demanding ale, they where cut down. The Longbeard family was destroyed, crippled, completely severed from their past greatness. A few remaining longbeards survived, ashamed of their name."

    Duren takes a big swig of his ale, wipping a tear away from his eye. he stares at the pages he was writing in for a minute, then continues once more.

    "Harold longbeard and Mathilda longbeard arrived in Anthos, living there for some time. After 30 years they met, quite old. They fell in love, both longbeards as well, one of the last few who came to Anthos. At a very old age they had a child, they named him Duren, standing for "Strong" in the old longbeard language. The language was created during the longbeard golden age, never used, but was started to be taught untill the Longbeard collapse. Mathilda was too old and she could not survive the child birth. Duren lived but Mathilda had passed, with a smile on her face as Duren was born. Harold loved Duren immensly and cared for him as best as possible, despite his work and loss of wife. Harold always told Duren night time stories, stories about the Longbeards. The stories where always good untill Duren became of age. Harold taught him everything of their past, it became proper for longbeards to pass on their story."

    Duren looks once more at the writing, he tears up for a second and wipes it off. He takes out his knife and carves Mathilda into the side of the table, unnoticed. He sips his ale and continues on his story.

    "I, Duren Longbeard, sought after the reclamation of the Longbeards past. I began working in the mines with my father, Harold for 3 years. I helped him on his way but this work wasn't for me, I was young, adventurous, I wanted to see the world. I took half my saving and gave them to my father so he would have enough to survive. I took the other half and left to explore, I found work all over in local berweries and as a servant. For 3 years I traveled Anthos discovering much about the people, I learned how to create Ale, I became an expert. I also grew addicted to Mead, since I was a longbeard, Also from the mining my hands where strong, I was a fairly built dwarf who loved mead. after another year I decided it was time to go home. I returned to my father very sickly, the coal had filled his lungs and he couldn't mine anymore. He lived off his reserves and his friends helped him. I wanted to stay but I couldn't help myself, I ran towards the mountain cliff. i looked over and saw the great lands of Anthos, I realised what I had to do, I was determined to restore the longbeard name and have it recorded, I'd make Harold, my great father, proud. I returned home and gave him the rest of my money, I kept a little to buy a book and pen, I would support my father with constant money from afar, and I promised I would visit., constantly."

    Duren stopped writing, noticing the page was dotted with wet tear spots. He gulped down the rest of his mead, close his book, stood up, and walked out. The book was left there for any traveler, titled, The Dwarf: Down and up again.

    Ambitions for the Future:

    Personality: Very proud, Very determined, Too proud

    Skills: Great brewer, great drinker, social drinker, strong

    Any other details you wish to share about your character: He is intelligent, but not smart. What I mean he is smart and understands things but he is not educated.

    Open-Response-Questions
    Each question in this section must be answered with a minimum of one paragraph which must describe the event in full. Please be as descriptive as possible and do not break character or lore at any point.
    ____

    1. Whilst mining deep in the undergrounds of Kalos you see a large deposit of diamond ore at the other side of the ravine you are on. There is a very thin rock bridge that looks precariously unstable, but it is the only way to access the deposit. What do you do?

    Answer: Duren quickly looks around, he checks for ways to cross to it. He thinks about jumping, he then looks down and sees he will surely die. He decides no one shall take the diamonds, he also thinks no one is here other than him. he quickly gets topside to his camp, he looks for a large plank to cross on. He finds one and another dwarf helps him along. They get back down but the plank is too short. Duren decides to run and jump. The other dwarf holds down the boards towards the center, Duren runs and jumps off the end onto the ledge. He tosses the diamonds over and waits for help and a longer plank. WHile he waits he drink his canteen full of mead.

    2. You are sitting in the local tavern with a large pint of ale in your hand - sitting nearby you is a rather young dwarf whom is clearly going through a bad time. He is crying to himself, and clutching a small wooden hammer toy. In the other corner of the room two shady dwarves are sitting whispering to each other and pointing occasionally at the dwarf. They stand up, one with a small dagger in his hand and begin to approach the young dwarf. What do you do?

    Answer: Duren quickly pretends to be a drunk dwarf, he yells, "BOY! come 'ere lemme show ye' a lil' bit o' things of me past and what not." He appraoches the boy, stumbling. The men still aproach. Duren decides it's time to act, he drops his mead, yelling "damn me luck!" As he stumbles he hits one of the cloaked men and grabs his hand, crushing it using longbeard hand strength. The men yells out loud and Duren grabs the kids and runs outside looking for somewher safe. Duren then asks the boy what was going on and tries to find someone responsible for him.

    3. Whilst wandering through the Dwarven Caverns you hear a voice call out to you; “Oi, ye’! C’mere n’ get ye’rself an ale!”. You spin on your heel and see a heavily bearded bar-owner looking at you - a huge grin on his face, and a mug of ale in his hand. How do you react?

    Answer: The longbeard love of mead demands Duren run towards the mead. All duren heard was, "get yer'self an ale!". He denies anything will come bad out of the situation and runs to the inn keeper to get his mead. This could be the end of Duren Longbeard, folled into drinking poisoned ale.


    Nice to see you applied again. Problem is this is another app format for another server. Gonna have to deem you denied until you reapply using our app

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on The Elder Scrolls: Gold Coast - Serious Roleplay Server
    Quote from Zimmeme»

    OOC:
    IGN: Zimmeme
    Age: 16
    How did you find us?: My friend Lucas99801 plays on here
    Define Role-Playing in your words: Playing a role of an imaginary or real character, and doing actions the way that certain figure would act them out, essentially playing a roll.
    Define Meta-gaming in your words: When your character somehow gains information of something that could or could not pertain to him, and he uses it even if in a real world knowing this information would be impossible.
    Define Power-gaming in your words: When your character gains some kind of strength or some inhuman power that in a real world he could not use, for example gaining super human strength and bashing a door in with his fists.
    Define God-modding in your words: God modding is when your character acts like a god, he is invincible and would have great powers beyond the characters true powers, such as lifting massive boulders or smashing a house with their fists

    IC:
    Name: Duren Longbeard
    Nickname: (Optional) Duren "The Dwarf-Man"
    Age: 39
    Gender: Male
    Race: Nord
    Appearance: A bit short for a Nord, he has a muscular build about him. Has a long tangled orange beard and same with his hair. He has blue eyes and he has a large and stubby nose.
    Personality: Usually drunk, likes to do anything for drink, honorable
    In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    -Duren opens the door to the tavern, walking inside-
    -Duren takes a seat next to the bartender-
    Bartender: What would ye' like?
    Duren: Mead if ye' got it
    Bartender: Aye we got some, not too bad. A bit watered down and looks like a bit o' hay got in 'er.
    Duren: Aye it's fine, I'll take any mead ye' throw at me
    Bartender: I'll be back in a momen'
    -Two men are eyeing Duren in the corner of the room, wearing cloaks and have sheathed weapons-
    Bartender: Here ye' go Lad, enjoy it
    Duren: Thank ye' lady, here's yer' five silvers
    -Duren throws five silvers on the counter, downs his mead and walks off with the two men who follow-
    -Duren turns a corner and they walk in-
    Duren: What do ye' want? Ye' lookin' for me gold?
    Man: Hand over your possesions, you drunk!
    -Duren unsheathes a dagger, throwing it into one mans face, He then takes his axe and charges the last bandit-
    -The bandit runs off dropping his weapon, Duren walks off looking for a place to stay the night-
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs. Also, explain how you came to be in Akavir.).
    Duren was born a few years after the peace in Skyrim. His Dad fought in the stormcloak army and taught his son how to use an axe and a bow in-case war that size would ever break out again. He prepared his son and he made protections to their home but he forgot what it meant to be a father. Duren didn't have the compassion in his life of other Nords and he had a sad childhood, once his father died his mother fell sick and he had to care for her 6 months until she passed away. His Brother was born a year before his dad passed away and he was left to care for him. His brother and him were happy but barely got by, Duren wanted to try and get married making tending to his household easier. He went out to search for a suitable wife and left his brother at home, after a long night he found one lady and promised to visit again but as he came home his brother was gone. Duren looked all over until he saw his back-fence was broken down. Duren looked for a whole day and got his friends to look as well but they didn't find his brother.

    Duren had no family left he was broken, something snapped in him, he went to the nearest Tavern and drank his troubles away. He became a wandering drunk exchanging stories he heard for mead. After half a year he stumbled upon a lonesome household and heard yelling from inside. He quickly ran up to the wall, looking inside. He saw two Nord men raping a woman in-front of her child and the man of the household was knocked out on the floor. Duren gripped his fathers axe and rushed in, killing one man and knocking out the other. He helped the women get everything in order and helped tend to the man for a day. When he was ready to leave the family offered gifts, he turned them down and walked off. He finally realized he could do good and stopped looking at the sorrow in his life, but his taste for Mead had grown into an addiction and he continued to wander telling stories, but he knew he had a purpose and he was determined to find it. When he got word of the colony in Akavir he thought he would find his answers there, he didn't know why but he set off anyway selling all his belongings for the passage across.

    After spending time within Akavir and finding an order that accepted him, known as the Vanguard of Akatosh. He lived and fought with his brothers for a while, exploring the lands of Akavir and getting into predicaments. After a good few months he decided to visit Skyrim to see how his homeland had progressed. He took the next ship back to Skyrim to observe what happened. He went to the old house the family lived in and found that it was burned, probably during a war of some kind. He traveled to his old house which was now a small community, with a nice population. Duren stayed there for some time helping the people finish building their homes, and digging their well. He was in return given their finest brewed mead and to rest in his home. Duren then left once again and traveled Skyrim, visiting the cities and checking on how the political structure of Skyrim changed.

    Duren had had enough of reminiscing of his home and decided to return to Akavir. He hadn't heard of the events that happened on Akavir while he was away and was surprised to see there was no ships leaving for Septimia. He took a ship to a port known as Able Mon, he was briefed on what had happened on Akavir and was frightened for the lives of his Vanguard brothers. Duren wanted to find them, he wanted to find the man who gave him a chance, Valkrae and make sure he was still alive.


    Well, I'll be reviewing your app I s'pose.
    Your name, appearance and personality are all good, the problems come after that.

    First off, we don't require a RP Example. Though it is alright that you included one
    Finally, I can't exactly give the backstory a proper review as it seems you have us mistaken with another server as we are set in the city of Anvil, not Akavir.

    Until you change the backstory to better fit Anvil and the Gold Coast, I'm gonna have to deem this app...




    Quote from tylermcgee»

    Minecraft Username: tylermcgee


    Age: 18


    Past experience with roleplay: Sins of our Fathers, Akavir, Four Stars, Fallout: Reclamation, Ashes of our Fathers/Brave New World, Akavir: Infernal Age, TES: Aldmeris, and a few hundred hours of other non-server roleplay.


    What is “Meta-gaming”?: Meta-gaming is the player’s implementation of knowledge/information into their roleplaying, character, or scene. In other words, using your mind instead of your characters.


    What is “Power-gaming”?: The first side of powergaming is to exceed a character's realistic limitations. As examples go; One-handing two greatswords and wielding them in a similar fashion to a beyblade without ever tiring and being somehow un-hittable by all incoming threats.

    The second part of powergaming is to ‘force actions’ on other characters, or in other words, not giveing said character the ability to react. An example would be; “shoots you with an arrow”.


    -IC (In character)-


    Name: Arzic Hashken


    Age: 27


    Race: Redguard


    Appearance: Arzic has a tall face accompanied by a rigid jaw line. His captivating and contrasting hazel-gold eyes rest heavily below his forehead. His skin is mildly dark and rough, and weathered, and his lips crackled and chapt. His hair, mindly-thick eyebrows, and facial stubble are a near-jet black, the strands fairly thick and rough. His hair is kept in locks, running behind his head down to his shoulders. His body is reasonably built. Standing 6’2, stocky shoulders and powerful legs.

    At the beginning of his adventure he wears cheap, dirty cloth pants and a worn hide jacket.


    Personality: His disposition consists of interest in helping others. Because of so, he is kind to strangers and enjoys relations. The way he talks is stern and genuine, however when accompanied by his somewhat intimidating overused eye contact he can be perceived as being strange. While he holds a great dislike for those who partake in magic and spell-casting, he would converse rather resort to violence. Aristocratic in a way, Arzic enjoys learning and politics. His personality deviates from the Redguard stereotype, which may prove interesting to those familiar with it.


    Abilities (Magic and Skills):

    -Effective with short one-handed blade weaponry (knife/shortsword).

    -An apprentice in alchemy.


    Backstory (Please write a minimum of 1 paragraph. Quality over quantity.):

    Arzic was born in the city of Sentinel, located in the westernmost region of Hammerfell. Nearly all his fathers before him were members of prestigious fighting guilds, and so Arzic was raised under his fathers intent to make him a glorious fighter. His adolescence was spent training, working, and studying Yokudan history. He was not dedicated to learning how to battle, instead he sought to study alchemy, as was his mother’s trade. Other than training, reading, and scratching at the surface of alchemy, life before adulthood was spent mostly in town doing manual labor, as he was too young to venture off into the surrounding inhospitable desert. At 18, Arzic’s father passed away, and he was left responsible caring for his mom. He retired his training and studies to work poor-paying jobs in order to feed himself and his increasingly ill mother. When Arzic was 24, his mother passed and Arzic decided to berid himself of his isolation from the rest of the world. He took up a job aboard a military scouting vessel, set to locate new potential land southward. By this time, all the manual labor Arzic took part in had built up his body and disciplined him. While his knowledge of fighting remained, he grew increasingly less fond of traditional redguard ways. Aboard the ship, he read scrolls and manuscripts of alchemy and other races cultures.


    Over a year after the vessel left Arzic’s home, it was challenged by a mighty storm. He was thrown overboard by a massive splash of water, sent into a disarrayed frant to cling on to anything that may keep him afloat. Soon after grabbing onto an ale barrel, Arzic witnessed the ship he had been on be torn apart as he was carried away by currents. After time asea, he awoke beached on the sands of Rihad, the southernmost region of Hammerfell. Knowing not what to do, he decided just to journey to where the vessel was going, to inform someone of what happened. He traveled slowly southward, experiencing all he could of these lands unfamiliar to him. Having grown in a old-way redguard culture, he was surprised to met other Redguards whom adopted the ways of the rest of the world. He favored the Imperialistic ways of science, engineering, and seeking of knowledge, other than the violent focus he was used to. After some time of drifting, he arrived alas to the town known as Anvil. . .


    Though the arrival in Anvil is a generic shipwreck, there is nothing wrong with that. With that out of the way, the application itself was a good read and it is therefore...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 2

    posted a message on The Elder Scrolls: Gold Coast - Serious Roleplay Server

    -OOC (Out of character)-

    Minecraft Username: PhD_Bagel

    Age: 19

    Past experience with roleplay: Akavir, Fallout: ANW, Fallout: Shadows of the Old World, numerous other servers

    What is “Meta-gaming”?: Using OOC information IC

    What is “Power-gaming”?: Forcing an action upon another player

    -IC (In character)-

    Name: Jeer-Tah

    Age: 38

    Race: Argonian

    Appearance: A dark scaled Argonian, Jeer-Tah stands at 5’6 with an average muscle build. Jeer-Tah has long, diagonal horns near where a man or mers ears would be. His hair consists of maroon feathers that go down a few inches from the bottom of his head. His eyebrows are decorated with bones that go above his solid black eyes. Surrounding these eyes is a thin bit of red paint, a war paint of sorts. Along his jawline is two more jagged bones on each side of his face. Along his dark scaled tail is a series of occasional scars, due to combat and the inability to comfortably armor it.

    As for clothes, Jeer-Tah wears much more Cyrodiilic styled garb in order to fit in better with the other races of Tamriel. He is normally clothed with a swamp green robe with a leather vest, boots, and gloves. On top of his leather coverings is a maroon scarf, similar to those worn by Telvanni mages.

    Personality: A pilgrim of the Hist, Jeer-Tah has recently come to the belief that all races are one and the same as long as they accept the Hist into their lives. This radical Argonian is willing to do whatever it takes to please the Hist.

    Abilities (Magic and Skills): None

    Backstory (Please write a minimum of 1 paragraph. Quality over quantity.): Born in the Black Marsh settlement of Thorn, Jeer-Tah was destined to have hostile relations with the Dunmer that led slaving raids against his ancestors ages ago. This started out as minor racism that came from his father and Egg-Brothers, but would eventually lead to violence in his later years. This disgust with the Dunmer was the typical conversation of his family during the many hunting trips that consisted of Jeer-Tahs childhood.

    Though racism was common amongst Jeer-Tahs childhood group, it only escalated into violence when Jeer-Tah came into contact with a group of Argonian pirates and smugglers. The young Argonian was offered a job as a deckhand by them. The crew of the small ship called “The Happy Horker” was not only Argonians, but a majority were. The inclusion of the other races caused Jeer-Tah to take a Cyrodiilic name “Walks On Sails” in order to fit into his new life as a sailor. The captain was a Nord named Horik Windmane who hailed from Windhelm and despised the Dunmer just as much as Jeer-Tah and the rest. The ship mainly did nonviolent jobs smuggling Skooma and other not so friendly things into Cyrodil and Skyrim, but occasionally attacked Dunmer fishermen off the coast of Morrowind. This was for no good reason except what they deemed Vengeance, which was really just an excuse for the cruelties of the past.

    Eventually, the Horkers luck ran out when Windmane took a stray arrow during an attempted raid on a well-armed ship. Without a Captain, the remaining crew men decided to end the dream of being pirates. The majority Argonian crew set sail for Black Marsh with an inexperienced Imperial at the wheel. But the will of the Hist did not have the Horker making it back to Black Marsh. The lack of experience of the remaining crew men eventually caused the former pirate ship to hit a rock near Tel Vos. The ensuing sinking caused a majority of the crewmembers to perish, including many Argonians. Jeer-Tah was one of the lucky few who survived the sinking, and awoke in a warm bed near Tel Vos.

    After the sinking Jeer-Tah was brought to good health by a Dunmer family on the outskirts of Tel Vos. The revelation that the race of Jeer-Tahs enemies would nurse an Argonian back to health caused Jeer-Tah to believe that his perceptions of Nirn were misguided. Jeer-Tah eventually returned to Black Marsh in order to ingest Hist sap in an effort to gain a better understanding of the world. Whatever the Hist told him was soon forgotten, but it led Jeer-Tah to begin his travels throughout Tamriel. These travels took him back to Morrowind, where he learned more about the culture of the Dunmer. It was during this travel to Morrowind that rumors reached his ears of the recent death of the Count of Anvil. Striving for adventure, the Saxhleel set out to this new land.

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on Fallout: Scorched Sands | Serious Roleplay | Building Phase

    OOC


    IGN: PhD_Bagel


    Age: 18


    Past RP Experience: Akavir, Akavir: Infernal Age, Fallout: Ashes of Our Fathers, Fallout: Shadows of the Old World, Fallout: A Nuclear Winter, Other random servers that are meaningless


    Fallout Experience: Played Fallout 1,2,3, New Vegas, and 4. RPed on multiple MC Fallout servers and skype RPs.


    Why you would like to join: I’ve been hankering for some Fallout RP since 4 reinvigorated my interest in the world of Fallout, and I am hoping this is the server that can hold my interest.


    Have you been banned before?: Negative, Ghost Rider


    IC


    Name: Richard Talbot


    Gender: Male


    Age:43


    Race: White, American Human


    Appearance: Talbot is an average build of a man, standing at 5’10 with a slightly muscular frame, though nothing out of the ordinary. His slightly tanned face is topped with an unkempt head of long, blonde hair that is parted in the middle. Matching his mop of hair is a pair of blue eyes and a bit of blonde scruff that covers more of his weathered face. This beard covers Talbots Talbots sun scorched face is not only accompanied by the beard, he also possesses several minor scars on his cheek, chin, and one going across his left eyebrow. As well as his facial scarring, Talbot also possesses multiple scars and remnants of conflicts on his torso and thighs.


    When not in his Ranger attire, he wears a pair of khaki trousers with brown boots. Tied around his left leg there is still an old bandage, this no longer has any actual use, but sort of just became a part of his actual attire as it’s knitted to his pants to cover up a torn part in his pants. On the belt of his pants, there hangs a holster for a revolver. The belt buckle itself is simple iron, with an engraving of what once was a Horse Shoe. For his upper torso he wears a long sleeved blue pre-war shirt, with the sleeves suffering from various tears and burns. It is quite obvious that this shirt was pre-war. On the back of this long shirt is a Brahmin hide holster that appears to be meant for a rifle.


    Personality: Richard is a sarcastic smartass on the occasions that he speaks, but he remains silent more often than not. Talbot is rather laid back whenever it comes to casual conversations, but this shifts to serious whenever he is amidst serious business or conflict. Though somewhat easy going, Talbot is more than willing to do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means he has to kill. His experience as a Ranger has led him to be cold, hard, and calculating in times of conflict and turmoil. Though Talbot maintains a cool head as a Ranger, he has become disillusioned with the constant Guerilla Warfare committed against the Legion. Even though this war on the Legion has resulted with the loss of many of Talbots friends, he remains steadfast in doing his job as a Desert Ranger. Though Talbot mostly remains quiet, he has a flair for the dramatic. As far as substances go, Talbot is an occasional cigarette smoker and alcohol drinker, though he avoids chems as he believes they taint the senses. Even though Talbots dedication to the Rangers has faded since the early days, he continues with them in an effort to carry on his mentor, Wards, legacy as a Ranger.


    (Spend 40 Special Points, we do not go off of Fallout 4 Special Stats)


    S – 5
    P – 7
    E – 6
    C – 3
    I – 5
    A – 9
    L –5


    Skills: Talbot is a talented Marksman with a rifle due to his training and experience as a Ranger. Though not as proficient as he is with rifles, he can use a Revolver slightly better than the average wastelander, once again due to his training as a Ranger. Adding onto these skills, like all Rangers, Talbot is proficient in surviving. In doing so, he knows how to live off the land as well as heal some basic wounds.


    Flaws: Though some Rangers may fight tactically in unarmed combat, Talbot is the opposite. When he fights with his fists, he fights with no finesse or skill. His hand to hand ability is severely lacking. Even with training, he fights extremely sluggish.


    Starting Faction/Town (Optional): Desert Rangers


    Place of birth: Nevada


    Role-Play Example: Uhh… Whoops


    Raider_1 continues searching the downed mans pockets, he says something inaudible towards his fellow Raider before laughing as he moves to the unconscious mans remaining pocket.

    Talbot would grit his teeth as he contemplates rather he should help the man or find another way around the two raiders.

    Raider_2 is yet to notice the leather armor clad man nearing him, as he is still focused on looting the downed man.

    Raider_1 would look to his right at his accomplice, finally noticing the man who’s nearing them. He would stand up, raising his knife as he does so.

    Talbot would mutter “**** it” under his breath as he quickly draws his empty 10mm Pistol.

    Raider_2 would still be searching the downed mans pack, yet to notice his friend standing and drawing his knife.
    Raider_1 would pause slightly as he sees the pistol being pulled out. He would lightly nudge his friend with his left boot before saying “We got another one”.

    Talbot raises the pistol up to his right eye, as if he plans on shooting the empty firearm. “**** off” he would call out to them.

    Raider_2 would notice his friends knife, drawing his own as he looks towards the pistol wielding man.

    Raider_1 would look to his friend for reassurance before responding to Talbots statement “Why don’t you turn around and let us make our living?”

    Talbot would continue aiming at the two “I wish it were that simple. See my friends wouldn’t exactly approve of me letting the two of you rob that poor *******” He would say, not lowering his weapon. “So I suggest you leave with whatever you have on you”

    Raider_2 nods his head. Not wanting to risk losing his life for a petty bit of caps, the Raider rises to his feet and slowly backs away from the unconscious man.

    Raider_1 glances angrily at his friend, looking back towards Talbot as he contemplates his next move.

    Talbot remains silent as he keeps the pistol trained on the remaining raider.

    Raider_1 would finally decide that he can’t win this fight alone and would quickly turn around and follow his friend.

    Talbot would slide the pistol back into its holster before going his own way, leaving the unconscious man as he is.


    Background (2-3 detailed paragraph minimum):

    Born into the Desert Rangers, Richard Talbot was the only son of Max Talbot. As the son of a Ranger, Talbots childhood was much more difficult than the average waster. While he learnt the basics of survival, like any wasteland child would, he was also taught how to properly use a firearm from a young age. When Talbot was 12, his father decided to finally take him hunting. Throughout this hunting trip Talbot failed to kill a single creature, much to the dismay of his father. Even though he failed to kill anything, this trip acted as Talbots first real experience shooting against a moving target. As time passed and Talbot went on more trips with his father, he became a much better shot. Between these hunting trips, Talbot trained with many other Rangers in elements regarding survival and firearms. His childhood remained very average for a Desert Ranger, with his day to day life going from training to hunting, back to training and finally to sleep. This cycle repeated for the remainder of his childhood, causing Talbot to lack any friends other than his fellow Rangers.


    This seemed like a perfect life for Talbot, but it came to an end when his father perished from an Old World disease known as the Flu when Richard Talbot was 23. Though this loss came sudden to Richard, he lacked the time to mourn as it was around this time that the Desert Rangers got dragged into a war with Caesars Legion.

    This conflict against the Legion brought Talbot closer to an older Ranger who went by the name Ward. Ward was one of Talbots teachers before the war against the Legion, and was someone that Talbot looked up to as a mentor and friend. Fighting guerilla warfare against the Legion changed Talbot in multiple ways. The boy that once enjoyed hunting was changed due to spending his young adult life in a brutal war against the Legion. This conflict with the Legion made Talbot a much colder man, yet his mentor kept him attached to the values of the Rangers. Where it not for Ward, Talbot would have been even more ruthless then he currently is. Eventually, the war against the Legion came to a turning point when a majority of the Desert Rangers merged with the NCR Though Talbot was not entirely opposed to the NCRs ideals, he decided to side with his mentor, Ward, in going with an independent group of Desert Rangers.


    In deciding to go against the Unification Treaty, Talbot unknowingly dedicated his life to waging a Guerilla War against enemies of the Desert Rangers. The guerilla war was off to a good start, until the Legion caught onto the destabilizing activities. With the Legion pushing back against the Desert Rangers, Talbot and the remaining Rangers were forced to retreat East. During this retreat, Talbot was a part of a small detachment that was tasked with attacking a Legion supply caravan. This mission seemed effective until the retreat back to regroup with other Ranger forces. On the retreat, the Rangers luck eventually ran out when a group of Legionaries ambushed the Rangers. As the Desert Rangers walked along what once was a road, Legion forces came rushing out from a curve in the road. Though the ambushers were eventually driven off, Ranger casualties ran high. One of these casualties was Talbots friend and mentor, Ward. Though many of the Ranger detachment perished, Talbot escaped with only a machete scratch across his right bicep.


    Even though Talbot had just lost his mentor and friend, there was no time to mourn as the few surviving Rangers decided to push towards what once was Texas. Though making it past the Nuclear Cyclones that guard Texas was not easy, Talbot and four other Rangers eventually made it to another wasteland. When they arrived in Texas, they began training town militias and doing whatever was offered in exchange for food and water in a war without end.

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on Fallout: Scorched Sands | Serious Roleplay | Building Phase

    OOC

    IGN: PhD_Bagel

    Age: 18

    Past RP Experience: Akavir, Akavir: Infernal Age, Fallout: Ashes of Our Fathers, Fallout: Shadows of the Old World, Fallout: A Nuclear Winter, Other random servers that are meaningless

    Fallout Experience: Played Fallout 1,2,3, New Vegas, and 4. RPed on multiple MC Fallout servers and skype RPs.

    Why you would like to join: I’ve been hankering for some Fallout RP since 4 reinvigorated my interest in the world of Fallout, and I am hoping this is the server that can hold my interest.

    Have you been banned before?: Negative, Ghost Rider


    IC

    Name: Richard Talbot

    Gender: Male

    Age:43

    Race: White, American Human

    Appearance: Talbot is an average build of a man, standing at 5’10 with a slightly muscular frame, though nothing out of the ordinary. His slightly tanned face is topped with an unkempt head of long, blonde hair that is parted in the middle. Matching his mop of hair is a pair of blue eyes and a bit of blonde scruff that covers more of his weathered face. This beard covers Talbots Talbots sun scorched face is not only accompanied by the beard, he also possesses several minor scars on his cheek, chin, and one going across his left eyebrow. As well as his facial scarring, Talbot also possesses multiple scars and remnants of conflicts on his torso and thighs.


    When not in his Ranger attire, he wears a pair of khaki trousers with brown boots. Tied around his left leg there is still an old bandage, this no longer has any actual use, but sort of just became a part of his actual attire as it’s knitted to his pants to cover up a torn part in his pants. On the belt of his pants, there hangs a holster for a revolver. The belt buckle itself is simple iron, with an engraving of what once was a Horse Shoe. For his upper torso he wears a long sleeved blue pre-war shirt, with the sleeves suffering from various tears and burns. It is quite obvious that this shirt was pre-war. On the back of this long shirt is a Brahmin hide holster that appears to be meant for a rifle.


    Personality: Richard is a sarcastic smartass on the occasions that he speaks, but he remains silent more often than not. Talbot is rather laid back whenever it comes to casual conversations, but this shifts to serious whenever he is amidst serious business or conflict. Though somewhat easy going, Talbot is more than willing to do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means he has to kill. His experience as a Ranger has led him to be cold, hard, and calculating in times of conflict and turmoil. Though Talbot maintains a cool head as a Ranger, he has become disillusioned with the constant Guerilla Warfare committed against the Legion. Even though this war on the Legion has resulted with the loss of many of Talbots friends, he remains steadfast in doing his job as a Desert Ranger.


    (Spend 40 Special Points, we do not go off of Fallout 4 Special Stats)

    S – 5
    P – 6
    E – 7
    C – 3
    I – 5
    A – 9
    L –5


    Skills: Talbot is a talented Marksman with a rifle due to his training and experience as a Ranger. Though not as proficient as he is with rifles, he can use a Revolver slightly better than the average wastelander.


    Flaws: Though some Rangers may fight tactically in unarmed combat, Talbot is the opposite. When he fights with his fists, he fights with no finesse or skill. His hand to hand ability is severely lacking. Even with training, he fights extremely sluggish.


    Starting Faction/Town (Optional): Desert Rangers

    Place of birth: Nevada

    Role-Play Example: Uhh… Whoops


    Raider_1 continues searching the downed mans pockets, he says something inaudible towards his fellow Raider before laughing as he moves to the unconscious mans remaining pocket.

    Talbot would grit his teeth as he contemplates rather he should help the man or find another way around the two raiders.

    Raider_2 is yet to notice the leather armor clad man nearing him, as he is still focused on looting the downed man.

    Raider_1 would look to his right at his accomplice, finally noticing the man who’s nearing them. He would stand up, raising his knife as he does so.

    Talbot would mutter “**** it” under his breath as he quickly draws his empty 10mm Pistol.

    Raider_2 would still be searching the downed mans pack, yet to notice his friend standing and drawing his knife.
    Raider_1 would pause slightly as he sees the pistol being pulled out. He would lightly nudge his friend with his left boot before saying “We got another one”.

    Talbot raises the pistol up to his right eye, as if he plans on shooting the empty firearm. “**** off” he would call out to them.

    Raider_2 would notice his friends knife, drawing his own as he looks towards the pistol wielding man.

    Raider_1 would look to his friend for reassurance before responding to Talbots statement “Why don’t you turn around and let us make our living?”

    Talbot would continue aiming at the two “I wish it were that simple. See my friends wouldn’t exactly approve of me letting the two of you rob that poor *******” He would say, not lowering his weapon. “So I suggest you leave with whatever you have on you”

    Raider_2 nods his head. Not wanting to risk losing his life for a petty bit of caps, the Raider rises to his feet and slowly backs away from the unconscious man.

    Raider_1 glances angrily at his friend, looking back towards Talbot as he contemplates his next move.

    Talbot remains silent as he keeps the pistol trained on the remaining raider.

    Raider_1 would finally decide that he can’t win this fight alone and would quickly turn around and follow his friend.

    Talbot would slide the pistol back into its holster before going his own way, leaving the unconscious man as he is.


    Background (2-3 detailed paragraph minimum):

    Born into the Desert Rangers, Richard Talbot was the only son of Max Talbot. As the son of a Ranger, Talbots childhood was much more difficult than the average waster. While he learnt the basics of survival, like any wasteland child would, he was also taught how to properly use a firearm from a young age. When Talbot was 12, his father decided to finally take him hunting. Throughout this hunting trip Talbot failed to kill a single creature, much to the dismay of his father. Even though he failed to kill anything, this trip acted as Talbots first real experience shooting against a moving target. As time passed and Talbot went on more trips with his father, he became a much better shot. Between these hunting trips, Talbot trained with many other Rangers in elements regarding survival and firearms. This seemed like a perfect life for Talbot, but it came to an end when his father perished from an Old World disease known as the Flu when Richard Talbot was 23. Though this loss came sudden to Richard, he lacked the time to mourn as it was around this time that the Desert Rangers got dragged into a war with Caesars Legion.

    This conflict against the Legion brought Talbot closer to an older Ranger who went by the name Ward. Ward was one of Talbots teachers before the war against the Legion, and was someone that Talbot looked up to as a mentor and friend. Fighting guerilla warfare against the Legion changed Talbot in multiple ways. The boy that once enjoyed hunting was changed due to spending his young adult life in a brutal war against the Legion. This conflict with the Legion made Talbot a much colder man, yet his mentor kept him attached to the values of the Rangers. Where it not for Ward, Talbot would have been even more ruthless then he currently is. Eventually, the war against the Legion came to a turning point when a majority of the Desert Rangers merged with the NCR Though Talbot was not entirely opposed to the NCRs ideals, he decided to side with his mentor, Ward, in going with an independent group of Desert Rangers.


    In deciding to go against the Unification Treaty, Talbot unknowingly dedicated his life to waging a Guerilla War against enemies of the Desert Rangers. The guerilla war was off to a good start, until the Legion caught onto the destabilizing activities. With the Legion pushing back against the Desert Rangers, Talbot and the remaining Rangers were forced to retreat East. During this retreat, Talbot was a part of a small detachment that was tasked with attacking a Legion supply caravan. This mission seemed effective until the retreat back to regroup with other Ranger forces. On the retreat, the Rangers luck eventually ran out when a group of Legionaries ambushed the Rangers. As the Desert Rangers walked along what once was a road, Legion forces came rushing out from a curve in the road. Though the ambushers were eventually driven off, Ranger casualties ran high. One of these casualties was Talbots friend and mentor, Ward. Though many of the Ranger detachment perished, Talbot escaped with only a machete scratch across his right bicep.


    Even though Talbot had just lost his mentor and friend, there was no time to mourn as the few surviving Rangers decided to push towards what once was Texas. Though making it past the Nuclear Cyclones that guard Texas was not easy, Talbot and four other Rangers eventually made it to another wasteland. When they arrived in Texas, they began training town militias and doing whatever was offered in exchange for food and water in a war without end.

    (Not my best app, but hopefully it's alright)

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on Fallout: Shadows of the Old World | Serious Roleplay | Discontinued

    Out-Of-Character

    IGN: PhD_Bagel
    Age (Optional): 18
    Skype name (Optional): niksveny
    Prior Bans and Reasons: That's a negative, Ghost Rider
    Define Roleplaying: Taking the role of a character other than yourself. This means acting and thinking like this character would.
    Define Powergaming: Forcing an action upon another character without giving them a chance to respond.
    Define Metagaming: Using OOC information In Character
    Past roleplay experience:
    Akavir
    Fallout: Ashes of our Fathers
    Fallout: A Nuclear Winter
    Some other ones that aren't exactly notable
    Write any questions you may have here:
    None

    In-Character

    Character Name: James Ward
    Race (Human/Ghoul/etc.): Human
    Age: 37
    Gender: Male
    Place of Birth: Minneapolis, Minnesota
    Personality: James is a sarcastic smartass on the occasions that he speaks, but he remains silent more often than not. James Ward is rather laid back whenever it comes to casual conversations, but this shifts to serious whenever he is amidst serious business or conflict. Though somewhat easy going, James Ward is more than willing to do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means he has to kill. His past experiences as a Mercenary and Bounty Hunter cause James to lean towards work of a similar sort, rather than that of a trader or farmer.

    Physical Description: Ward is an average build of a man, standing at 5'11. His long blonde hair is unkempt, yet parted from his eyes. To accompany his long hair is a stubble that hides a few average scars around his cheeks. These scars are from a mole rat bite he suffered as a child, though he will never admit such a thing. His tanned face surrounds two blue eyes. He is clothed in a black leather bomber jacket that has seen more than its share of use. Underneath this jacket is a makeshift blue scarf and a long sleeved white shirt, that is more grey than white at this point. Below his jacket is a pair of brown cargo pants and dark hiking boots. On the outside of his jacket is a leather pad that acts as a cover for a sleeve of the jacket that has been lost in one of his many conflicts.
    Connecting to the leather pad is a makeshift rifle holster created out of a belt. Ontop of his brown pants is a belt with an Iron buckle and a Brahmin hide holster for a Revolver.
    Picture of Skin (Optional): Still under construction
    Strengths (Physical and/or Mental): Ward is proficient with Revolvers and Rifles due to his time as both a bounty hunter and Mercenary. His willingness to survive is more than likely the biggest strength of his. His mercenary work has also given him the training to survive in this wasteland.
    Weaknesses (Physical and/or Mental): James lacks training in basic hand to hand combat. Bullet wounds in his left shoulder and upper torso make him less than average than most in fist fights.
    Fears (Something Substantial): James fears normality more than everything, he'd rather die in a gunfight than live the rest of his life working a farm with Brahmin. A more minor fear of his is Molerats, a remnant of his childhood.

    Character Biography (Minimum of two paragraphs):
    James Ward was born in a small settlement outside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Though he was born here, it wasn't his home. Wards parents, now with a child to deal with, decided to travel further south in an attempt to escape from the cold of a Minnesotan Winter. After many attempts, the family finally found a local Caravan leader that was willing to deal with the dead weight of bringing a family as long as James father, a hunter by trade, would pull his families weight on the journey. Be it by some miracle or just dumb luck, the Ward family and the Caravaners successfully found themselves in Columbus, Ohio.

    Within a week after arriving in this new state, the family joined a small town outside of what once was Ohio State University. The family stayed in this settlement for 23 years, dealing with the hellish struggles of Wasteland life. During this time James became proficient enough tracking and with a rifle, both skills taught by his father in an effort to teach James how to properly hunt. Be it in his nature or just the environment he was raised in, but James wanted more in his life then living and dying in a small settlement. Without hesitation, James left his family in search of fortune in the Wastes.

    After years of wandering and performing odd jobs for whomever desired them, James found himself serving amongst a group of Mercenaries known as Talon Company. James Ward served with the Mercenary group, performing whatever manner of deeds would net him a profit. This cycle continued until James became annoyed with sharing his earnings with the other members of Talon Company.

    After spending 4 years with Talon Company, James repeated the same actions he performed 7 years earlier to his family: he slipped out in the night. After leaving the Capital Wasteland in an effort to leave behind his past, James once again began working solo. Now far more experienced then when he first left Ohio, James began taking more jobs that involved the use of a gun. Be it bounty hunting, caravan guarding, or smuggling, James would perform these jobs. One of these simple delivery jobs would lead him to the state of New York.

    As James neared New York, he was knocked unconscious by two men. Upon awaking, James quickly noticed his weapon and caps were both taken from him. With nothing but the clothes on his back, James made the decision to head North.


    Roleplay Example (Try to avoid combat scenarios):
    A man who hired James sits behind a desk, sipping a warm bottle of Nuka Cola.
    "Jobs simple. You walk in, shoot this piece of dirt and come back here with his precious Revolver. You do that, I give you the caps"

    James tosses his now burnt out cigarette onto the ground before looking towards his employer
    "Sounds easy enough. What's the catch?"

    The employer stares at James Ward, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at this statement
    "The catch?"

    James would smirk slightly at this response
    "You don't offer that many caps for a bounty this easy. So, if you want me to kill him, then you give me the full story"

    The employer would nod his head, taking a sip of Nuka Cola before he looks back towards James
    "Where should I start?"

    James would pull out another cigarette, lighting it as he takes a seat
    "From the beginning"

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from Jeth_Sooth»

    Minecraft Username: Jethu (Previously: Jeth_Sooth , _Jeth_ )

    Age: 18

    Definition of meta gaming: Using OOC information (or OOC gained info) into RP. Eg; In ooc chat I get informed that my friend is being attacked, but Ic I don't know that. I still go to the exact location to save him. That's meta gaming.

    Definition of power gaming: Forcing one’s actions upon another without allowing the recipient to react, regardless of the likelihood that they would succeed

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: Couples of medieval Server (TCI, ETS, LOTC to name a few) but never really got into fallout RP.

    IC:

    Name: Jannis Eriksson

    Age: 29

    Appearance: (Like a real tunnel snake, because tunnel snake rules) In a really good shape, like most of the wastelanders. Brown eyes and brown hair from his mother. He wears black most of the time and carries a small knife of him. He's a normal man at 5'10. He has few scars here and there from previous fights but nothing too significant.

    ( http://img4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20141020031107/walkingdead/images/5/50/502_Gareth_Night.png ) If you feel like it.

    Personality: Rather calm and cold. He's not the one to save the world, not the one to stop a rape from happening. He's the kind of guy that will save a skin if he can and won't be in danger. Groups are not his things, sheeps or wolves, that's how he sees the world. There are those that lead and those who follow. Sometimes he crosses path with people like him, those who wander. A survivor. He loves a good talk with fellow wanders, around a fire camp with a bowl of soup. He doesn't mind using drugs here and there, it keeps his head straight for sometimes. He loves women a lot, they're his weak point. Nothing like a good looking girl to put him into trouble.

    Backstory:
    Jannis was born in New York, son of a mother that was raped by bandits. He grew in violence, survival, fear. All that because his mother didn't want walls around them, so he could learn how to live outside walls, outside a group. By the age of 12, his mother finally decided it was time for him to go on his own. He knew how to kill, how to cook, how to scavenge and even knew a little bit in electronics. Enough for him to survive. And so, his mother left him alone with nothing but a hunting rifle, rations and a empty bag.

    During the few next years, he dodged survirors and wanders. Scared they might try to kill him, he just watched them from a distance. Most of the time he was right, they were bandits, patrolling around, rapping and stealing what they could put their hands on. He didn't bother to follow them for long, just enough to loot what they had left and they he was off to another road. Sheeps, they were easy to spot. Those who would follow and those who would lead at any cost. Ambitious sheeps, scared sheeps, all waiting to become a wolf in the sheep herd.

    At the age of 17, he decided to tag along a group. A young girl got his defense low and he finally decided to follow them. It didn't take long for Jannis to realise that the group was weak. They're last town was just attacked by a group of raiders and they were walking too slow to run away. He knew it was coming, he knew that these people would die but the girl still got him there. It finally arrived, the raiders attacked the group during the night. It was a death trap. They camped on a highway, with only two possible choices. Death by jumping off or death by the raiders. Jannis stayed with the girl, killed few raiders when they finally took over everyone. They all got linned up and the wolf of the raiders came out. A crazed man, affected by drugs obviously. He got everone on their knee and then spoke.


    "Those who wish to survive must become my slaves or die in the pit."

    Jannis looked at the girl, she was obviously scared, tears was flowing from her face, she knew what they would do with her.

    "If you wish to live another day, stand up and walk beside me." The raider said.

    Few people decided to join him, women and children. Most men couldn't believe that their wives and lovers left them for those raiders. Jannis knew that the women made the right choice, because even if they would've decided to pit, they would never get there. They would be abused way before that. And then the girl beside Jannis stood up, it shattered his heart into pieces, that she accepted this faith. She was weak, just another sheep. After awhile, five people were left with Jannis. He looked at the girl one last time, before getting knocked out by a raider.

    He woke up in some kind of arena, obviously made by the raiders. He was beside the five others, all ligned up. The leader of the raiders was on a podium up in the stairs. A woman beside him, Jannis recognized her to be the wife of the man beside him. She was touching him, cuddling him like he was her new lover. Survival it was, he thought. The chief spoke.

    "Now you will face death for our own amusement!" and the gates that was infront of them opened. It was a super mutant, obviously a prisonner too. Chains around his wrist and a face that said it all.

    "You will kill that monster with nothing but your knives and you shall live. If you lose, the super mutant decides your faith. Fruul is a lovely prisonner, he sure loves to kill everything I send him!" he laughed, and the mutant charged.

    The fight started but neither side decided to attack first. They were all waiting for someone to make a move. It felt like it lasted for hours before the raider lost his temper.

    "You won't attack? I'll make you regret this!"

    Another gate opened and a death claw, smaller than those Jannis saw was standing there. Arms chained, rather skinny from the lack of food they've been giving it. It charged straight away, It ripped off the first man with it's jaw. Jannis never saw so much blood in his life, but he looked at the mutant that charged the deathclaw, almost as if he was waiting for it.

    The other three men decided to attack Jannis, as if that would help them survive. Jannis quickly killed one that wasn't experienced but the other two fought like trained men. In the middle of the fight, the deathclaw was thrown over them, with great force. Even if that deathclaw was smaller, Jannis couldn't dodge it, but so did the other 3 that were fighting him. The deathclaw quickly got up and ripped of two of the men. Meanwhile Jannis crawled back, scared but not enough to lose his mind. The Death claw didn't had the chains anymore, the mutant probably ripped them off during their fight. He looked around, just to see the mutant bleeding but still standing. There was no escape the raiders were all enjoying the show from their high point of view, it was just few feets up, Jannis could've got up there easily but he would be killed by the raiders. By the time he had that reflection the Death Claw was done with the two men and was jumping on the last that was screaming and running to the wall in hopes to climb it.

    He got hammered with a baseball bat when he tried to climb and the DeathClaw came to finish him off. The mutant ran past Jannis and charged the Deathclaw, pushing it up the audience. They panicked when they saw the deathclaw up with them, screams of terror were heard everywhere. People ran off, even the raiders. The mutant walked to the exit gate and teared it appart, it was just made of wood. The guards had all left, scared or chased off by the Death Claw. Jannis didn't wait for the Mutant named Fruul to destroy the gate, he was already behind the mutant until they left the camp. When they were out, they didn't say a word to each other, they just left on their own way.

    After leaving those raiders, he quickly started to scavenge once again, to regain what he lost. At least he would find scrap to sell for few caps. Trading with some merchants here and there to get food. He tags along them to survive, maybe Jannis hates being in a group but there's nothing like a lot of people to scare of the solo bandits around and even the big gangs with luck. So he followed this trader until he was back in New York once again. As he enters the city he questions his way to survive. Maybe he should join those sheeps, to survive without such struggle anymore.

    I made this backstory rather short, due to the fact I'd like to devlopp my character in-game.


    Lets review this app...

    Overall things are in order.

    You are...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]

    Whitelist application:


    OOC:


    Minecraft Username: minecraftkittys


    Age: 16


    Definition of meta gaming: Using information learnt OCCly and using in ICly to one’s advantage or even disadvantage.


    Definition of power gaming: Forcing RP onto a person at quick speeds not allowing the person to retaliate to the opposing persons RP.


    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: Fallout Wasteland Legends, Fallout TBD, and Massivecraft.


    IC:


    Name: Lexington Montell (Nickname is Lex)


    Age: 18


    Appearance: Brown hair with red bandana covering mouth. Wears a white short sleeved shirt with brown pants. Brown eyes. Slightly tan.


    Personality: Untrustworthy due to time in a cult whom he found out lied to him. Determined to surpass any goal in front of him to find his mother and those he considers friends. He is slightly anti-social due to side effects of his drug use and tries his best to keep that to himself.


    Backstory:

    Lexington Montell was born in Humboldt, Iowa to Sarah Larkland and Joseph Montell. His life with them wasn’t normal at all. Her mother was originally just an everyday wastelander until she came upon Joseph in a saloon just outside Des Moines. He invited her to journey into Humboldt with him to start something grand. When arriving her and Joseph was greeted by multiple people.

    It soon came to be known by his mother that Joseph was a cultist. She was hesitant at first but grew to the fact he was. Not even a year later they were married and about to give birth to Lexington. From the time he could remember his dad was taking him to religious meetings. When he turned thirteen the cult made him go out and be a “missionary” for the gods. Unlike the missionaries we know he would be a missionary of death.

    The church itself was built off of a prewar book called “Children of the Corn” (let’s pretend like it was written around this time…) in which the children in the book would kill outsiders or non-believers. His mom and father was killed when they turned eighteen to Lexington’s knowledge. Every person whom turned eighteen had to share the same fate. His mom however not a firm believer fled before she was killed. The goal of the “missionaries” was to kill outsiders in the name of the Holy One. This would lead to Lexington finding his mom who escaped being killed a few years earlier.

    One night he and a few other preteens were tasked with murdering a family who built shack near their secret temple. When arriving he was shocked to see his mother waiting for. Armed with traditional tribal weapons they stood no chance against her Chinese Assault Rifle. With his friends mowed down and his shock so great, he was kidnapped by his mother.

    After that event he lost all faith in his father’s religion due to the “Holy One” never punished his mother for her “sins”. They moved eastward going to DC in hopes of a new start. When arriving all the rumors they heard about safety was proved wrong. Any sort of civilization was almost destroyed. With their hopes crushed they began to follow the coastline to find a new home.

    A few weeks after his seventeenth birthday he and his mother were in New Jersey when they were ambushed on the highway. His mother hid him in a nearby building (in a cabinet) and confronted the bandits. They took her away never to be seen again.

    After two long years of depression and the over use of drugs he heard rumors from a local trader saying he saw somebody that looked like his mom in New York. (The merchant lied but he doesn’t know that) With hope revived he now heads to New York to find the fiends that kidnapped his mother and give them swift justice and maybe finally settle down with his family. By the time he will make it to New York he would be eighteen. Will his life be cut short or forever last? Only time will tell.


    (The character is meant to be a simple character with not a huge backstory so that I can help the character grow into a new person. He is 18 so that should be easy. This is a edited version du to a request from staff to edit it. Side notes, Lexington is anti social to anyone he just meets due to the lies he heard from his cult. One befriended he is a decent ally. He is good in chemistry and he has mild fighting capabilities. Not to be used as much in combat and he will rarely volunteer to do so due to his believe that science will fix the wastes. His major flaw is his drug use.)


    Tunnel Snakes Rule!


    Sorry for the wait, let's review this app.

    Seems you fixed what Josh said, you are...


    Quote from whatton3»

    OOC:

    Minecraft Username: travisw3

    Age: 15

    Definition of meta gaming: Meta gaming is the use of information which the player has found out about while not in character (OOC) and are using it while in character. (this includes motives and actions) .

    Definition of power gaming: Denying somebody's actions and forcing another without allowing the recipient to react, regardless of the likelihood that they would succeed

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have loads of RP experience. Fallout Vault, Fallout Wild Wasteland, Fallout Sins of our Fathers, and etc.

    IC:

    Name: Markus Brown

    Age: 48

    Appearance: http://i.imgur.com/C9x9W.png

    Personality: He appears slightly unhinged from years of solitude though if you get to know Lee he is rather friendly-yet insane.

    Backstory:

    Lee Everett was born near Niagra Falls some time ago. Canada was sparsely populated after being brutally annexed by America. Now, after the war, it was somewhat desolate. Lee lived in one of few populated territories in Canada. He had a pleasant upbringing with some pleasant parents in an isolated town. Though he thought his childhood was terrible due to the lack of adventure and constant boredom. This caused him, age 18, to leave his home to find his purpose. For 12 years he drifted from place to place, scavenging and selling as he went along. Lee enjoyed his life like this, a simple existence yes but he was content (and he also became quite rich.)


    Unfortunately this was not to last. One winter the snow was incredibly thick and the snowstorms were unbearable. He got lost in this snow and unknowingly traveled into northern wooded new york, where no one lived anymore, not even the natives. Lee was lost for 18 years. He survived by hunting the few animals that lived there and by living in the old mining camps that were scattered around the landscape when people grew so desperate for resources they would search anywhere. His mental instability grew everyday and he would talk to an animal skull called Larry in which he confided with. He grew older but his survival skills were exceptional. Yet he finally traveled south enough to somewhere inhabited: New York. Here, he found towns and communities and a place to settle down. But it was not a land without conflict too, in which he was to be a part of...


    "Tunnel snakes rule!"

    OOC:

    Minecraft Username: travisw3

    Age: 15

    Definition of meta gaming: Meta gaming is the use of information which the player has found out about while not in character (OOC) and are using it while in character. (this includes motives and actions) .

    Definition of power gaming: Denying somebody's actions and forcing another without allowing the recipient to react, regardless of the likelihood that they would succeed

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I have loads of RP experience. Fallout Vault, Fallout Wild Wasteland, Fallout Sins of our Fathers, and etc.

    IC:

    Name: Markus Brown

    Age: 48

    Appearance: http://i.imgur.com/C9x9W.png

    Personality: He appears slightly unhinged from years of solitude though if you get to know Lee he is rather friendly-yet insane.

    Backstory:

    Lee Everett was born near Niagra Falls some time ago. Canada was sparsely populated after being brutally annexed by America. Now, after the war, it was somewhat desolate. Lee lived in one of few populated territories in Canada. He had a pleasant upbringing with some pleasant parents in an isolated town. Though he thought his childhood was terrible due to the lack of adventure and constant boredom. This caused him, age 18, to leave his home to find his purpose. For 12 years he drifted from place to place, scavenging and selling as he went along. Lee enjoyed his life like this, a simple existence yes but he was content (and he also became quite rich.)


    Unfortunately this was not to last. One winter the snow was incredibly thick and the snowstorms were unbearable. He got lost in this snow and unknowingly traveled into northern wooded new york, where no one lived anymore, not even the natives. Lee was lost for 18 years. He survived by hunting the few animals that lived there and by living in the old mining camps that were scattered around the landscape when people grew so desperate for resources they would search anywhere. His mental instability grew everyday and he would talk to an animal skull called Larry in which he confided with. He grew older but his survival skills were exceptional. Yet he finally traveled south enough to somewhere inhabited: New York. Here, he found towns and communities and a place to settle down. But it was not a land without conflict too, in which he was to be a part of...


    "Tunnel snakes rule!"


    You seem to have fixed what Josh stated,

    you are...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]

    OOC:


    Minecraft Username: Aleia_Chan (Formerly CthulhuPeople!)


    Age: 19


    Definition of meta gaming: Meta-gaming is using out of character information in character, for example learning about someone’s weakness from their character profile or app and using it against them in game.


    Definition of power gaming: Power-gaming is forcing an action upon another player without allowing them to react. For instance saying “*Throws knife at Sam’s face, killing him*”.


    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I’ve been RPing since the original Sins of Our Fathers, and through around 5 other servers, and countless Skype RP.


    IC:


    Name: Gren Sellers.


    Age: 23.


    Appearance: Gren fully fills into his name, being twiggy and lithe in build and stature, standing at a short 5’8” tall, though with a runner’s body. His skin is pale white naturally, as he never can get tan, only sunburned. He is rarely seen without his standard cloak/poncho, the hood of said thing covering his head to protect from rainstorms that constant the former southern states. Under that, and his smaller shirt are the bottoms to a vault jumpsuit, having been cut out from the top portion and stitched back together. Gren can be described as twitchy in appearance, his face slim and his facial hair cut in a certain particular strange way. Due to his many drug addictions, former and current, his forearms are riddled with needle scars and slashes.


    Personality: Gren is rather reliable in certain ways. Usually preferring to be unseen and if stared at for long enough will burst into violent stages of uncomfort. Addiction prone, he is rarely seen without a cigarette in his hand, or lit in his mouth. When alone with a person, he will try to be sociable, though his anxiety usually makes him just sit there and grin creepily at said person.


    Backstory: During one of the south eastern coast’s many rain torrents, Gren was born to a slaver and a former junkie slave. At birth, he was separated from his mother, who was then killed in a rather unmentionable way so horrid even he was not told. His father, the slaver, brought him up to teach the boy his trade, though Gren never really caught on. He prefered playing and painting and trying to play abolitionist in his teens by setting a few slaves free. This earned him exile from his father’s lands at the young age of twelve.


    For a time, Gren traveled around the ten mile area around the slave depot of his father’s until one day he was picked up by a chem salesman. Then was almost instantly sold into slavery, a rival of his former father’s. Turns out, on his father’s plantation the slaves led a revolution, killing anyone who held a whip or chain. Now they traveled around, killing and marauding anyone they saw who even spoke of slavery. Gren was determined to find them after that. Through dodgy tactics, and the splitting of a guard’s head with the help of an older slave, the boy got away from the rival slaver group, and was on the run. They tracked him with bloodhounds and their own men at night, until Gren met up with the abolitionists. Son’s of Lincoln, they called themselves, though they were much more violent than their namesake. Once the slave hunters found Gren with them, the Son’s slaughtered any in their path, decapitations and mutilation of bodily parts was frequent and bloody as usual.


    For a few years after, Gren traveled with the Son’s of Lincoln, the group getting bigger and more violent than they had hoped. Now they were no more than junky raiders, killing slaver and slave alike. They traveled as far as Atlanta before dissent kicked in. Some were asking why they had to follow orders, it was easier just to practice anarchy. Others said that they needed order in order to keep moving. This argument quickly escalated to bloodshed, and then full on war between two new factions. Their large encampment, Neo-Sodom, devolved into murder sprees and mass war crimes that are rather not stated. And all the while, Gren simply smiled, and ran away. He headed north. Story was, the “Big Apple” was the place to be. A place free of law and order, where you could do whatever you wanted, and meet new people. You could be a new man if you wanted, but who said he wanted to?~

    Tunnel Snakes Rule!


    Well Cthulhu, seems like this app is all in order.
    I deem it...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from Diamond_sky»

    OOC:

    Minecraft Username: Diamond_Sky

    Age: 14

    Definition of meta gaming: Essentially Meta Gaming is using OOC information for IC usage.

    Definition of power gaming: Power gaming is forcing actions on other players they can't react to, This can change the paths of Characters lives and kill them either way it's unaccepted.

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: Servers: SooF, Akavir, AooF, Inferno age, Illiac bay and some others, I think a few LOTR ones

    IC:

    Name: Skult

    Age: 19

    Appearance: The aged kid always has a fresh layer of dirt on him, recently being hunched over most of the time due to walking a great deal. He has grown a beard and looks very old for his age. Sporting ruined clothes and fingerless gloves he carries a machete because he lost his 9mm in a struggle with a caravan guard.

    Personality: He is always looking at the floor, gibbering and mumbling under his breath constantly speaking to himself alone. He tries to avoid looking into peoples eyes and is constantly changing the subject in speech. He desires to be remembered in life, and he only can seeing himself achieving this by killing or having children to tell the story.

    Backstory:


    They call him Skult, hasn’t made much of a name for himself yet. Although his parents were originally locally famous mechanics getting cars working in a settlement in the heart of Philadelphia City. But when he was at an early age they were gunned down in a Slave raid. He was first to be put under the Yoke and taken upstream Delaware River to an enterprise of Slavers. Scrawny as a kid he was in no shape to be fighting in the pits, and he luckily was given the honour to be apprentice to a lowly Gunsmith named Jorm, this was partly because he spoke of experience with mechanics and engineering. Sleeping with the dogs he was making ammunition day in day out fueling the Slaving operation. He witnessed Jorm create small arms like 9mm and 10mm guns and modifying weak rifles.


    Hitting 17 he had fallen into a drug gang along the river, working part time moving Jet at night he fell back on his apprenticeship with Jorm and was kicked out. It was also about this time he was stealing jet from the gangs supplies. In the first few months it was just a little and went unnoticed. He began to forget his problems and constantly be lost stumbling around the gang. But it was when he didn’t show up and half of the stash had vanished it raised a few eyebrows. A falling out sealed his fate, a brutal beating broke bones and lost him few fingers and his left ear. He was left unconscious on the side of the river bank covered in sand. A jibbering mess he began to wander upstream maintaining a constant pace, he couldn't go back now to the slavers after this severe beating. He earned a name for himself assaulting small caravans travelling up the river. The only spoils he took with him were clothes and rations, he hadn’t the strength to take anything else on his journey he had unknowingly embarked upon.


    Back with the slaves he had heard rumours of a huge city up North, a city found on the back of postcards. Reaching this city had become his goal believing that riches could lie inside the city. The 19 year old travelled over Land and Water before he reached into the borders of new york. By now a cut on his foot had been infected making him unable to keep walking on top of the blisters. He halted his journey slowing down the constant pace, he has a days rations left and needs to find water being very dehydrated. He has no caps and has decided to go inwards to the city believing scavenging will save him from dying of thirst.


    Tunnel Snakes Rule



    This be a touching app. Really gets the feeling of what the poor kid went through. I have to deem it

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from Bennastick»

    OOC


    Minecraft Username: Classy_Crackpot


    Age: Nineteen


    Definition of Meta gaming: Using knowledge gained from OOC interactions in RP instances. Such as; going to a place you have no knowledge of IC through knowledge you gained through a Skype call or otherwise.


    Definition of power gaming: Forcing an action upon someone or something that is illogical, impossible, or otherwise. Such as; *Cuts the man's stomach open with the blade of his machete*. But of course, this could be resolved by a simple edit such as; *Swings his machete towards the man's mid-section*.


    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: All iterations of Romecraft; Solstice, Fallout: Wild Wastelands, Fallout: Echoes of Mankind, Fallout: Desolate Roads (Sadly), and likely others. Combined, I have been roleplaying for roughly eight years now.


    IC


    Name: Whitey Brimstone


    Age: Thirty-Four


    Appearance: Best described as a 'large' man, he stands at a rough 5'10 feet tall. While he doesn't tower over most, what he lacks in height he makes up for in muscle mass. Weighing in at 213 lbs, most of which is muscle, he's definitely not the kind of man you would want to meet in a dark alley. Wearing torn, ragged clothing; you can tell he's not exactly the most prepared for the harsh cold climate of a land ravaged by nuclear winter. His arms are covered in various crossing tattoos of differing designs, a sharp knowledgeable eye might notice some designs from numerous raider tribes farther south.


    Personality: Though he may look menacing and antagonistic, Brim is rather quiet and tries to keep to himself. He might not be the smartest tool in the shed, he's by no rights an idiot of any sorts; though most of his knowledge comes from old world books and little else. He's a brute and he knows it, so doing whatever he has to survive comes naturally. Though he's no master at combat, he uses whatever he can find to do what needs to be done. If his strength won’t do it, his tenacity will. He’s cold and will do whatever he has to in order to make ends meet


    Backstory: Born to a family of slaves for hard labor in the refurbished ruins of Kitty Hawk NC, he had little to offer from the very start. By all means his mother was barely family to him, only being a solitary figure he had seen at birth. He survived more on his own than with the help of others, doing whatever he had to live in harsh conditions. Eventually, as he grew up he became more valuable given his natural strength; being used for the heavy lifting that not many others could do. He was fed a bit more to keep his strength up in order to do the work that he had to, frequently being forced to work until he was out of breath and face deep in a pile of filth.


    Brim was sold off to many different branches of slavers, moving north between towns and settlements to provide heavy labor or whatever he was told to do. Eventually, seeing his strength and tenacity as high value, he was sold off to The Pitt. Through this, and finding out about the hole, Brim knew how he planned to escape his slavery. Through countless hours of labor, stealing other slave’s food, and heavy lifting; Brim toned his body and readied it to fight for his freedom. Knowing the consequences for defeat he didn't lose any time readying himself for the first fight.


    When the time to fight came, he didn't hesitate to do what had to be done. He used every weapon available to him, smashing skulls, slitting throats and breaking bones. Ruthless, Brim did everything he had to in order to win fight after fight, killing whoever he was faced off against. He didn't regret killing any of his fellow slaves, becoming a crowd favorite when he even took one opponent and dunked him head first into a barrel of radioactive waste. His actions were cold, quick, and decisive; he left little time for hesitation before delivering each finishing blow.


    In short terms, he won his freedom, leaving The Pitt as soon as he was able to get away from the hell hole. But slavery stayed with him, and eventually he went on to become a roaming raider; working with slavers and raiders alike. He did whatever he wanted to, trading in slaves, helping to kill for sport or for caps, pumping himself full of chems. He roamed different parts of the wastes for many years with different bands of maniacs. Brim avoided the large conflict, so whenever it arose he left. A lot of different raider factions had put small bounties on his head for abandoning them; though they weren't much, in the end it added up to a hefty sum of caps.


    After a few close calls with bounty hunters, wastelanders and junkies that recognized him and were looking to collect, Brim decided it would be best to cut his losses and head somewhere he might not have to worry about being noticed. Somewhere dangerous enough to either get him killed or keep him safe. Though he didn't know much about where he might go to lay low, he knew none of the bands that he had roamed with were set up farther north. So in the end he headed north, straight towards another heart of hell; the big apple.


    Obligatory Statement.


    Lets review this app.


    Overall this app is fairly good.

    I'm excited to see how an ex Pitt Raider interacts with other Pitt Raiders, not saying much about them shenans though.


    Overall, This app...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from Clue314»

    OOC:

    Minecraft Username: clue314

    Age: 30

    Definition of meta gaming: Using OoC information IC

    Definition of power gaming: Forcing an action upon another player sans consent

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I've roleplayed on relatively few mediums, and I'm familiar with the Fallout games.

    IC:

    Name: Kirg

    Age: 16

    Appearance:

    It stands taller than a man, yet more narrow. Long green legs extend from its torso to the ground, ending in a four toed foot. Its torso is also green, with a brown underbelly. Two long and narrow arms with a tri-fingered grasper each emerge gracefully from the shoulders, where is also placed the comparatively large cranium. Its red eyes are large, and highly photo-receptive, while its mouth is lined with needles. On its back are two pairs of large wings, that have atrophied after years of disuse. Its exterior is surrounded with a thick exoskeleton.

    Personality:

    It is a ravenous, antisocial beast, cunning yet also filled with hatred. It preys upon lesser beasts frequently, and sometimes rarely larger, more dangerous quarry, revealing a sense of both vindication and senseless endangerment. It will often pursue its prey to the very edge of danger, only ceasing the hunt if it enters an area high in light. Only barely capable of speech, it rarely attempts to communicate, although often enjoys hearing the cries of others. It is nomadic, and highly dislikes a sedentary lifestyle, only stopping once every four years to lay a batch of eggs.

    Backstory:

    *Begin recording* The mutated mosquito is dangerous not solely because it is strong, agile, and slightly poisonous, but also because it possesses a crude cunning. It learns. Over the years it has as a species learned to mimic human speech so as to attract prey. It has learned the best paths through the dark places, and it has learned the higher concepts of society that only sentient, sapient beings are expected to understand. Super mutants hardly qualify understanding it, I must mark. Thus, I hypothesize that the mutated mosquito must be a result of some sort of unnatural radiation, perhaps by the selfsame FEV that created the super mutants. Or perhaps merely normal radiation, such as created the radscorpion. I do not pretend to know. What I do know is that female mutated mosquitos have never been seen, implying an asexuality in the species, or well-hidden mates, which would imply ritual, which would further imply intelligence. I opt for the former; that their reproduction is in some way asexual, or at least does not require a mate from the same species.


    The particular species we have captured has taken to calling itself 'Kirg'. I think it meant to say something else, but the name has by now stuck. We are of course delighted to have such a rare beast in captivity, however I feel that it dislikes being imprisoned, likely perhaps something to do with the light. Its captivity however has taught us so very much; Mutated mosquitos are capable of surviving on the surface, but sometimes even rarely emerge at night to acquire fresher prey. Otherwise, however, they will under no circumstances enter the surface during the day, not even when chasing prey. Otherwise when chasing prey they will not be dissuaded. We have however used the information of its hate of light to prolong its captivity. With the special light beams we have install- Wait, what's that? The power. . . Oh dear lord. . . It's escap- *End recording*


    Kirg emerged from the ruins of the makeshift laboratory, pleased that it is night, allowing it to escape underground through the metros. It quite likes the metros. They are dark and cool, and the radiation is like a soft breeze, instead of a burning sensation for the radioactively disinclined. It can see moderately well, even at such dark depths, and thus is among the top of the food chain of the admittedly small foodchain present there.

    Kirg was always the runt of his brood, and was outcasted some time ago. This new position thus contented him adequately. He was hatched in the forests north of New York city, and came south after he was outcasted. His mind has degraded to a state of intelligence lower than the already previously low intelligence of his species. He particularly enjoys the metro because tunnel snakes rule. Even now he can smell a delicious morsel, stumbling blindly. Its blood calls out to him. He would love to tell us more, but he is now gone. On the hunt.


    Howdy partner, let's review this app.


    -App itself. We aren't huge fans on playing creatures never seen in the lore. I would love if you would play as a human, ghoul, super mutant, and the like.
    -Rules. You seem to be missing something, I suggest reading them again.


    Until these are fixed, you are...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from TunaticTyler»

    Hrmm, this has me a bit curious. What version is the server running on? 1.8? 1.7.10? Also, is there any sort of limitations on young teenager characters, somewhere around 14 or so? I've always been fond of roleplaying those characters as they are often poorly done or overlooked, and if we are going with a very serious and solemn RP scenario, especially in the wasteland, I'd imagined it'll be a lot more immersive imo. Course', this is just me ramblin' three minutes from midnight, so excuse me if I say anything quite out of the line, eh?


    Server is running at 1.8. Playing as kids are a case by case basis due to them being portrayed poorly.



    Quote from GrafitesPL»

    Ah yes, I felt that the latter part of the powergaming definition was implied. My mistake.

    The character himself is quite enigmatic and I purposefully didn't explain about his childhood, though if you insist I will explain it in a few paragraphs. You'd notice I take a very meandering view in my descriptions. I never really seem to get to the point, though merely brush against it and leave it to the reader to figure out and interpret the connotations and meanings for themselves. I suppose this isn't the way to go about an application :P

    Also, I prefer not to split up the three definitions of the character, as I relate my points back and forth and it just becomes an all-round mess, so here is the amended and improved character description:

    Appearance, Personality & Backstory:
    Previous post's info:

    He'd stand at 5'11 and be built quite well, though in no way would anyone consider him burly. His hair was short and brown, and his eyes a dark shade of blue. The colour blue seemed to reflect not just in his eyes, but also in his attire. Clad in what seemed to be crudely dyed cloth, with leather armour underneath the midst of rags, he definitely didn't seem to know any tailors. He didn't seem to know or want to know anyone for that matter, for he was seldom seen travelling in a crowd. Lew was a man who preferred solitude to companionship.

    He didn't have the heart nor patience for other people. He could only think about himself, which was not something unheard of considering the dire times we live in. He wore two leather belts on his chest: one across his waist, the other going past his shoulder. These were adorned by a wide range of sacks and pouches, which would never be empty. He seemed to always come prepared wherever he went. His past has taught him that nothing was sacred, and he should always be prepared to leave wherever he was in the space of a few minutes. It wasn't anxiety, nor was it paranoia. It was the everyday struggle to stay alive and not fall victim to the vile creatures that lived out there. Outside the settlements.

    One could only think what horrors there were to see, yet the man in question had seen a lot of it. Too much, perhaps. One look at him and the thought immediately sprang to your mind. "Amateur." He was not one. He had lost his parents as a child, and had to survive on his own since then. Theft, felony, murder... those words all followed him like a plague. He tried to drown them out, though never seemed successful. His past always followed him, sometimes even ahead of him. He could never be sure if the people in the next settlement he arrived in knew of him. It was only logical for him to be careful.

    This man's mind wasn't ever at peace. He always seemed distant, thoughtful, retrospective... but never worried. He didn't seem to be nerved nor infuriated by the things and people around him. He simply dealt with it in the quickest way possible and moved on. Mind you, this was not the life he wanted to have. He wasn't always deprived of feeling. He had dreams. To find someone to love, somewhere to call home. He just didn't think they were realistic. He was in an endless loop of not befriending people because in the past people have come across as negative towards him. Perhaps this new city could let him change that? One could only predict what the future held. One could only hope it was good...

    New stuff:
    As he travelled south along the east coast, memories loomed in his mind. He remembered this place well. He remembered growing up in the remnants of Boston, though he didn't try to think back too much to those days. He didn't want his memories to get the better of him. That was far behind him. The arrival of those mercenaries. The murder of his closest family right before his teenage eyes. The measly attempts to fight them. The laughter. It was all fresh in his head. It all felt like it had happened yesterday. Though quite obviously it didn't. It's been a long nine years since those events. Nine tiring years. Nine gruelling years. Nine years of hard work and perserverance to get him where he is today. "Paying his family's debts" they said.

    He never understood why his father borrowed caps. He did remember seeing him drink oftentimes, but a few beers a night isn't much... right? In retrospect he realised his father was an alcoholic. His measly work as a brahmin herder wasn't enough to feed the family and his addiction. He borrowed, then when he couldn't find the funds to pay back... he borrowed from others to pay back the first party. And so forth. Finally someone caught on. Lew remembered going about his daily business, helping his father on the pathetic excuse for a pasture that they had. They came to threaten. They came to steal. Sometimes they got violent, but never as badly as the final moment when he saw his parents alive.

    After joining the mercenaries mostly due to having no other choice, Lew's lifestyle changed drastically. He went from a simple youth learning to herd two-headed cattle to a cold-blooded killer, liar and cheat in the space of a few hours. It was kill or be killed. He learnt to turn a blind eye to it, though some nights he would lie still and contemplate his life instead of sleeping. Count the days until they said his debt will be paid off, until he could be a free man again. As he stayed longer, the work got harder and more dangerous. It was coming up to a point where he couldn't cope with it anymore. With four years left of his faux slavery, he finally caught the opportunity.

    He was out on a mission with a few others, out to heckle a few traders who were causing trouble and making business hard for the company. Perhaps it was luck that he chose to take Tail End Charlie on that expedition? Perhaps it was fate. Who knew. He walked through the barren wasteland pretty much backwards, making sure nothing would come up behind them. He turned back to glance at the rest of the group. Where were they? What happened? He couldn't comprehend what was going on. He looked around. Nothing. They were gone. Without even thinking twice, he ran for his life. This was the only chance he was going to get. He knew they had set out in the morning, so he ran with the sun on his left side, knowing this was south. Knowing this led him to the manhattan ruins. Away from here... away from his past...

    When asked about his life he would always give a passive answer. He'd never explain nor tell his story. Perhaps this was why he was so misunderstood? One would struggle to know much about such an enigmatic character. If asked where he was from, he'd reply "Not from here." One would think he was another boring man trying to get by, though he was much more than that. He knew this was going to be it. Finally free of the invisible chain holding his ankle to the metal. Finally free to do what he wished. Though the habits remained. He was still a murderer... but wasn't everyone..?


    App seems all good, I gotta deem you...

    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☢Fallout: A Nuclear Winter☢ [Serious RP]
    Quote from spawnfan55»

    Whitelist application:

    OOC:

    Minecraft Username: spawnfan55

    Age: 16

    Definition of meta gaming: Meta-gaming is the act of using OOC details for your IC benefit. A good example of this would be the poor random sap that gets apprehended by bandits in the woods who decides it is alright to call upon his little Social Justice Warrior friends through an OOC message and open a can of whoop ass upon the bandits

    Definition of power gaming: Power-Gaming is the act of giving your character unrealistic abilities in order to gain your way in a RP situation. A good example of this would be the typical measly little farmer becoming a master swordsman out of thin air and whoop some bandit ass

    What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I’ve spent about two years alone RPing on Minecraft which the large majority of my RP has been spent on. I mainly started out two years back on the third map of the Crafthammer server as I learned the basics of MC RP on that server; my character on there was an Orcish shaman called Urikane. Crafthammer died out a little while later and I decided to spend a year on LOTC as an Orcish blacksmith up until the Fringe ended and I decided to cast off LOTC for Echoes of the Ancients which if I recall correctly I spent several months on until it died off and I swapped over to the Fallout RP server called Echoes of Mankind. I spent a couple of months on Echoes of Mankind as a Super Mutant named Fruul for a couple of months until it died off. I jumped onto Swords of Abreth and stayed around until Swords of Abreth started getting wonky and The Last Ark launched. Right now I’m just looking for at least a semi-decent Fallout RP server to RP on until the Lost Chronicles or Scorched Sands crops up.

    IC:

    Name: Fruul

    Age: 16

    Appearance: Fruul is a Mariposa Super Mutant that stands at around 10 feet tall if he were to stand straight up although due to the slouch that all Super Mutants have he stands at around 7’5 feet tall usually. Fruul’s complexion is that of a grayish green tint common to Super Mutants that were created by the Master in the Mariposa Complex on the East coast that is dotted with few scars, boils, thick skin and large muscles enhanced by the FEV virus in the green vats of FEV deep within the Mariposa Complex. Fruul’s face is dominated by a set of small scars, brown eyes, a moderately sized nose, a bald head, and moderately sized ears. He usually wears typical leather clothing that covers part of his chest along with his legs along with a leather shoulder pad. The advanced rate at which Mariposa Super Mutants heal at has caused Fruul’s skin to be devoid of most scars except for a few trademark scars covering his chest, arms, and face.

    Personality: Fruul’s attitude is similar to first generation Super Mutants like him, being that of a blunt, rude, racist, and simplistic manner that has garnered his kind a vile reputation within the California wastes. Fruul himself has a blunt, rude and gruff personality that he tends to have around any individual of any species or race that usually causes him to get into major trouble. Fruul is or used to be a rather major advocate of the Master’s Army until he died off and was forced to fend for himself in the wastes of the Old World as his views about Unity changed over time. He has a rather large hatred for humans due to the multitude of humans who hunted him down and attempted to kill him, along with his mutant brethren, the alienation that was brought upon him brought upon him a certain fondness of other mutants like Ghouls who shared the same form of alienation as him. His intelligence is atypical to that of the higher grade First Generation Super Mutants created by the Master in the Mariposa Complex on that fine line of mediocre intelligence.

    Backstory: On a cold Winter night deep with the Northeaster wastes under the pale light of a rare full moon that graced it’s bystanders with it’s rare beauty stood amongst a decrepit hill a small crude settlement with the smoke of a large fire brewing that appeared to be typical of tribal settlements except this crude settlement was dominated by a large green behemoth that guarded the entrance to the supposedly tribal encampment. The inhabitants of the encampment were no other than large Vault 87 Super Mutants that all stood at a staggering 10 feet tall with a light green tint to their skin that was dotted with large muscles created by the FEV virus deep within Vault 87’s metal corridors. These Super Mutants were sitting around a large fire to warm themselves up from the bone chilling cold of the North along with replenishing their thirst and hunger by eating cooked molerat meat slabs and boiled irradiated water in order to survive another day in the cold Northeastern wastes. A certain odd individual stood out amongst them due to the grayer tint of skin that dotted his frame along with certain scars, boils, and a slightly smaller sized compared to the Super Mutants of Vault 87 within the encampment. This figure adorned an odd style of clothing and weaponry compared to the Vault 87 Super Mutants along with an aged tone to his voice and a weary demeanor.


    This odd Super Mutant called himself Fruul and claimed to have come far from the East from a land of scorching heat called California. The figure regarded himself as one of the last disciples of the Master’s will and stated he had no quarrel with his eastern kin. Fruul sat down looking upon the bright full moon indulging himself with the cooked leg of a Brahmin as the Vault 87 Super Mutants called him over to share the warmth of the fire with them. Fruul took it upon himself to fulfill his eastern brethren’s request as he took a seat alongside the large leader of the rogue Vault 87 warband. He looked upon the Super Mutant leader with a certain look of his respect in his face as he noticed the much larger frame of his eastern kin.


    The large Super Mutant leader turned about to gaze upon the much smaller Fruul as he opened his mouth to question the Mariposa Super Mutant, “So, if you are from the West may I ask why you brought your small little puny self to the East?”


    Fruul glared at the large Super Mutant leader as he opened his mouth stating “The Master’s death wrought confusion among his followers, and I was one of the few that decided to move East alongside Gammin’s Army in order to find a better land for my kind to settle in.”


    Fruul tilted his head slight bit in curiosity at the large Super Mutant leader who showed a broad amount of intelligence compared to the other Vault 87 Super Mutants, finishing his meal as he opened his mouth to state “If you want to hear my full story you’ll have to divert your own time to pay attention for my journey to this land was long and arduous across a whole country that the Ghouls sometimes inquire me about; now take a seat my brothers and listen along to my tale if your minds allow such patience to crop up.”


    March 6, 2131: It has been a year since the Great Winter had ravaged the Earth with it’s large shearing cold that nearly managed to destroy the remnants of the human population that existed upon the Scorched Earth. A boy by the name of Joshua was born to a couple of vault dweller descendants as the sun managed to peek out of the large Nuclear Winter that wrought destruction upon the Earth. This boy was one of many children born to a new generation of wasteland pioneers that branched out amongst the wastes after the Great War of 2077 that wrought the horrors of Nuclear war amongst the planet. Joshua’s parents lived within a small ramshackle village made of old pre-war buildings and metal shacks cobbled together by the inhabitants of the village. The village managed to recover quite quickly from the Great Winter managing to build farms to sustain their small growing population.


    August 15, 2144: Joshua was now 13 years of age on that turning point of his life that makes him one step closer to a man, for Joshua had shown a major interest with the guard of the town at a young age and had planned to serve them once of older age. This time was spent alongside his mother and father learning how to sustain himself by helping to scavenge, fix weaponry, along with farming within the city and just menial tasks that had to be done. His childhood was typical of human children, hanging out with others along with getting into little flings with women and generally being a kid. His life was dominated with a mixture of hard work, childish tendencies and practically just surviving within the wastes of California. Joshua learned how to fire his first gun and swing his first machete from his mother and father, skills that would help him out a decade later.


    September 21 2151: Joshua turned 21 years of age in 2151 as he stepped into the first years of young adulthood. Joshua was now a mere guard within the village of his birth every now and then helping his fellow militiamen quell raider attacks, gecko skirmishes along Radscorpion attacks and many other events typical of the California wasteland. His life changed as he was offered a job as a guard of a traveling trade caravan that prowled the Californian wastes, which he accepted and traveled alongside the leader of the trading caravan.


    January 6 2158: Joshua now stood as a formidable figure among the wastes as he stood alongside his allies, within 28 years of age standing at 5’10 with a large muscular frame as he toted a large pump shotgun throughout the Mojave Wasteland as he went from job to job making money from mercenary work. He spent most of his time guarding caravans although there might be the typical gecko problem he would be payed to deal with. He managed to scrape by until a rogue battalion of the Master’s forces managed to capture him and his crew on a skirmish through a raider camp. These Super Mutants took him along with most of his crew down into the deepest darkest parts of the Mariposa Complex to undergo the transformation of a regular human being into a Super Mutant in the FEV vats of the Mariposa Complex. He was dropped down into the vats and he emerged from the vats screaming as an large Mariposa Super Mutant standing at 10’5 tall with a large hunch to his back making him actually stand at 7’5 feet tall.


    April 20, 2162: The Mariposa Complex had been destroyed by the legendary vault dwell of the Western Coast. Fruul was off on a scouting mission with another small group of Mutants to find other candidates for the FEV vats to transform into Super Mutants, albeit as they came back with test subjects they came across the ruins of the Mariposa Complex which had been destroyed by the nuclear missiles they Vault Dweller had set off. Fruul along with the other Super Mutants of the group killed off the human test subjects in rage as they stayed there to mourn for their fallen master. The Master’s death brought pain upon Fruul as he stood around the ruins along with his kin to mourn for their fallen master, but as the hours passed he came to realize that there was nothing left for him in the area. He gathered his equipment and decided to trail behind a particular group of Super Mutants named “Gammin’s Army” who planned to move out East to find a better land to settle.


    Fruul blinked his eyes once as he sighed, peering at the glare of the Full Moon as he stated: “The events that conspired from then on were few to none for we moved onto in an area known as the Midwest by the natives a land that was rather different compared to the desert wastes of the West for it seemed to teem with more life than the Mojave Wasteland had, The Mojave Wasteland proved to become a rather difficult land to prosper in as the NCR had pushed out East covering large expanses of land that Super Mutants like us can even dream of. I was in Gammin’s Army in the Midwest when Gammin himself was destroyed by a Brotherhood man in hand to hand combat. There were a certain few of us that did not fully agree with a human being as our supreme leader so we departed our brethren and moved into the Mojave Wasteland into the mountains of the area, far from the many humans that had wished to eradicate us from the wastes themselves; albeit as the NCR moved into the Mojave Wasteland we met fierce opposition from them, and then I decided to follow some of my kin further into the East. Many years passed us as we found our numbers dwindling as we moved into the Eastern expanses of the American Wasteland as the ghouls sometimes call it. I recall trudging through many swamps, cities, towns, villages, and all sorts of trouble as well as we were either picked off or decided to separate over stupid matters. I found myself alone as I worked many odd jobs for mere humans, ghouls, and sometimes other mutants as I worked my way up into this area called the Capital Wasteland.”


    Fruul scratched the back of his head and consumed the last bit of his meal as he sat down to speak once again, “Now the locals speak of a large city not so far from here called New York, or so they say that is filled to the brim with creatures and people of all kinds, violent to passive and who knows what else, I plan on going there to see it for myself as well as the fact that I’ll be finding myself wandering out West to my homeland soon, for I am still restless from the Master’s Death so long ago, and one thing I’ve learned over the years is that even if I’m so physically different from a human in all shapes or forms, and my hatred for humans runs deeps beyond all measure, but one thing I’ve learned from them is that War never changes, and if you try to do so, you are just preaching to a tribe of cannibalistic irradiated jet junkies.”


    Let's take a peak at this here application, shall we?

    -Age. I'm assuming you got a a bit mixed up here, being a 16 year old Super and all.


    -Powergaming. Here we go by the definition of forcing actions upon other players.


    -Rules. You seem to be missing something from these.

    You can just PM me once you read these and I'll add you to the whitelist.


    You are...

    Just make sure to PM me the rule shenans and I'll get you added for tommorow.

    Posted in: PC Servers
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