Ahh, I remember you lads, itsa been awhile. Shrines of the Ancient is where I think I dappled in a bit with my old, shite of a PC. Too bad my computer was interfering greatly with the RP experience.
I'll be working on an app soon, glad to see you guys are still afloat and going strong after all these years. Really gives me hope for the Minecraft RP scene.
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional):
Already there
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?:
Yep
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Powergaming is forcing RP upon others, or just doing things that your character should clearly be unable to do.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Metagaming is the usage of information gained OOC for your benefit IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Roleplay taking the role of a character and putting yourself in their shoes.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
Nobody
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When there is an IC reason to do so, and when the other player is all right with the decision.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
You may speak OOC when you use the OOC channel, or use double parenthesis (if you are in the IC channel)
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
I’ve been a part of the SG community since Silver Age, and I also do a great deal of Table Top Roleplaying, as well as other text Roleplaying.
Character Information
Name: Taggart
Age: 26
Race: Human (born in Mistland)
Physical description: Taggart is a taller man at 5’11’’, He has dark brown hair that is generally unkempt, but not dirty. He doesn’t wear a beard, as he’s never been able to grow one. He is well muscled from years of mercenary work. He’s got scars and scrapes all over his body as souvenirs from many fights. He’s taken great care to make sure none of them mar his face though.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Brandon dubiously opened the door to the tavern. He was in one of the seedier parts of town and wasn’t sure what to expect. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked inside. Soon after stepping inside, the man wrinkled his nose in disgust. The tavern smelled of stale beer and unwashed men. This was definitely somewhere he didn’t want to be. The patrons were mostly drunk and noisy, filling the building with raucous laughter. A few of the tavern-goes stared curiously at the newcomer. No doubt wondering how much money he had in his purse no doubt.
Brandon closed the door behind him and moved into the smoke-filled taproom and covered his nose and mouth with a cloth. He looked around for the man he was sent to meet. He was a mercenary, and from what he’d heard a rather good one. And not too expensive. As he scanned the room he saw a man in the corner stand up and wave him over. That’d probably be him.
“I’ve come from my lord about the job proposition.” Brandon said, taking a seat in front of the mercenary. He was a taller fellow, with dark hair and a stupid grin. “Are you Taggart?”
Taggart nodded and took a long drink from his flagon. He set it down after what seemed like two minutes and belched loudly. “Sorry bout that pal. You know how it is with ale. Delicious stuff, but hard to keep down. So, you’re the one from Lord whatshisname?” he said flippantly, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.
“Yes, I’m here from Lord Ka-“
“Oh!” Taggart interrupted. “I got you a drink too buddy! Here.” He slid he flagon across the table to Brandon.
“Yes. . .” Brandon said slowly, nudging the drink away from him tentatively. “Drinks aside, I think we have use of someone with your skills.”
“Which ones? I can do lots of fun things. I can stab, I can shoot a bow, I can climb things, I can break windows, I can break bones. I have also been known to do a nice jig on occasion. That costs extra though.”
Brandon sighed. He hated dealing with Mistlanders. Dumb country hicks. Every one of them. But this fellow raised a few questions. “How did you manage to learn all of that?”
“Well, the jigs aren’t hard. Just get everyone drunk enough and it’ll seem like you’re doing the right moves.”
“No,” Brandon said exasperated. “I meant the other things.”
“Oh, those, well, when I was a boy I lived in Mistland. You can learn lots of fun tricks down there. Like how to catch three frogs with one fish and a glass bottle. But that’s beside the point. I’ve only found three times to use that. Anyway, I lived there until I was about fifteen years old. Learned to hunt and fight with me pop. Learned to climb trees of my own volition. I left home after my parents died. Mum died of sickness. Goat kicked my pop in the face.”
“Oh. I’m sorr-“
“Then, I went to Rinion.” Taggart continued. “Couldn’t get a good job anywhere. Everyone thought I was a fool or something. So I lived on the street. Got real good at stealing and running. And stabbing and running. I was running a lot of the time. Then, I joined a band of mercenaries. Fun fellas they was. Not a bad source of income either. After a few jobs though, I decided to strike out on my own. But enough about me. What’s the job pal?”
“Right, thanks for that little story by the way. So, my lord wants you to kill a rival of his. He’s tried to best him through political intrigue, but it seems that he’s failed. So, he’d like you to and your men to kill him.”
Taggart smiled widely. “This is why I like Forezzie. You noble folk are always ready to stick a knife in someone’s ribs. Keeps the little folk like me in work! I mean, your dainty little fingers could hardly hold a dagger I’ll wager!”
Brandon grimaced and grumbled quietly. “What do you say?”
“Well, I need to know a few things first? Like are there gonna be dogs? What about kittens? I don’t kill puppies and kittens. I’m not gonna off this fella’s family either. And can I keep whatever loot I find?”
“There’ll just be some guards. No animals. You just need to kill one person. And please don’t rob anyone. Just murder. Do you understand? I have instructions if you need them.” Then he said under his breath, “not that you could read them anyway.”
“That’d be lovely! And I’ll take half of the payment now if you please.” Taggart said holding out his hand expectantly.
Brandon placed a folded piece of parchment and a coin-purse in Taggart’s hand. “If that’s it I think I’ll go.” He said as Taggart looked over the paper. It was upside down.
“That’ll be all mister. Go back to Lord Whatshisname and tell him his friend will be dead and he’ll be the king of all Forezzie by the end of the week!” Taggart called after Braden as he was leaving. “Pretentious little snot.” He said to nobody in particular, looking over the instructions, now right side up.
Sometime later, Taggart was talking with his three friends. They were going to be his crew on this mission. There was Melvin, Stuart, and Raike.
“So, Melvin and Stuart will go in here,” Taggart said pointing at the map provided by Raike. “And I’ll go in through here. Raike will stay and guard here.”
“I’m still not sure about this Taggart.” Melvin said nervously. “We’ve killed people before, and it wasn’t exactly hard. But this is a Lord! Not some merchant or bandit gang.”
“Yes, but the pay is nice Melvin.” Taggart said matter-of-factly.
“Right, that’s all well and nice Taggart, but why should we do this? We can get just as much money by robbing a fat merchant.” Stuart observed.
“That’s true Stuart. But, imagine it. Us, king-slayers! Bringers of destiny! We shall change the world!” Taggart was standing now holding a clenched fist high above his head.
Raike sighed. “I can’t stand it when you do this whole,” he gestured vaguely at Taggart. “Dramatic thing.”
Taggart scoffed and sat down. “The heroes from stories and songs are dramatic. But anyway, are we gonna do this or not?”
The other men muttered their assent and Taggart smiled happily.
Taggart nudged open the door to the castle kitchen quietly. He snuck through the room carefully, walking on the balls of his feet, his soft-soled boots making little noise on the stone floor. Taggart moved towards the door at the other end of the room, stopping only to grab a loaf of bread someone had left out. If all was going right, Melvin and Stuart should already be inside.
Taggart left the kitchen and crept down the corridors, looking for the stairs. The Lord’s room would certainly be near the top. He just had to figure out where. As he walked down the hall, he heard shouting coming from the courtyard. Something had gone wrong. Taggart was about to dash down the stairs when he heard metal-shod feet tramping his way. They couldn’t be that hard to dispatch, it sounded like there couldn’t be more than 3 of them. Taggart shook his head. He didn’t want to kill more people than he had to tonight. He was in a good mood, and didn’t want to ruin the evening for more people than necessary. He opened the nearest door and stepped inside.
The inhabitants of the room were awake and shouted with surprise when Taggart stepped inside. Taggart quickly moved a nearby chair under the door and looked at his new friends. It was clearly the man he was sent to kill and his wife. Judging by the gaudy decorations in the room. “Sorry about this sir.” Taggart said politely nodding his head.
“Who are you?” the lord said angrily. His clenched fists shaking.
“I’m Taggart. I’m a mercenary who was sent to kill you. It’s not personal mind you. A man’s gotta make a living after all.” Taggart shrugged. “I think something went wrong though, so I’m more concerned with leaving than defenestrating you.”
“What?”
“Defenestration. It’s throwing someone out of a window good sir. I thought that it would be a rather fun way to kill you. Less messy than sticking you with a sword, and you can tell all your friends what fun you had on your way down!”
Both the lord and his wife looked confused now. “Wh- who send you to kill us?” he asked uncertainly.
“Oh, some fellow with a grumpy messenger boy. Said you were a rival of his. Also said that he tried to beat you through good-ol-fashion politics. I could never get the hang of that stuff. I’m more of a fighter myself anyway. Just point me in the right direction.”
“You will die, you know that right?” the lord said, his voice cold as ice.
`“Well, now that’s something I’ve heard many times. But, not today. I’ve got a pressing engagement elsewhere.” Taggart said moving to the window. “Sorry for disturbing your rest m’lady.” He said nodding to the lord’s wife. “I’ll just leave this here though.” He said kindly putting his instructions on the floor. And with that, he climbed out the window and was gone.
It was sometime later when Taggart found Melvin in a back alley. His friend was bleeding from a large cut on his left arm and a stab wound to the stomach. “The guards were onto us Taggart. They knew we were coming.” He said seriously.
“Did they get Stuart?” Taggart inquired, looking very worried.
Melvin nodded. “A man with a halberd jumped out from around a corner and stabbed him in the chest. Then he took off his head.” Melvin sobbed. “Then a sneaky little guy got me in the stomach. I got both of them back though.” He said with steel in his voice. “Did you kill the guy?”
Taggart shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance.” He lied. “Stuart was a good friend. It’s sad to see him go. Have you seen Raike?”
Melvin opened his mouth to answer when there was a voice at the end of the alley. “There they are!” Several armed soldiers appeared in the narrow space began to file after them. Melvin started to run when he was struck with an arrow in the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth as he cried out. “Run!”
Taggart nodded and ran. He dashed through the streets and alleys, trying to throw off his pursuers. After an hour he had finally lost them. He leaned against a building, breathing heavily. After he had caught his breath, he realized he had no idea where he was. This city was big, and he was relatively new. He sighed and began climbing up the side of the building.
“Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve found the last one.” Raike said. “You led those soldiers on a merry little chase. You’re not going to escape me though.”
Taggart looked at him in shock. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean I’m going to kill you can collect a reward. It’s simple. I already helped kill the other guys. So I might as well finish the job.” Raike said calmly.
“You perfidious fiend!” Taggart shouted his hand going to his short-sword at his side.
“Where did you learn all of these words!?” Raike said equally loud, becoming very angry. “Where did a Mistland hick like you learn to read!?”
Taggart grimaced and moved his hand away from his sword and started to draw his bow. “I snuck into some classes while I was in Rinion. Learned lots of things. I just play the fool sometimes. Now why did you betray us?” He growled angrily.
“The pay was very good. Better than the pay for killing him. So after we finished planning I went and talked to your target. He was very accommodating. Not like I cared about you anyway. You’re just another lost Mistlander. Far from home, with no family. Nobody would care if you died anyway. And, to top it all off you’re a killer. I’d be doing a service.”
“I don’t just kill Raike,” Taggart said trying to hold back his rage. “I steal and rob and loot and beat.” Taggart said flashing a quick grin. But I also protect, and guard, and help. I do what I’m paid to do.”
“How can you be so annoying at a time like this?” Raike demanded. “I’m about to kill you, and you have the nerve to crack a joke and act like a dramatic hero.”
“Oh, it’s easy you just do this. “ Taggart quickly nocked an arrow and fired it at Raike. The arrow struck the surprised man in the thigh and he cried out in pain. Taggart quickly nocked another arrow and fired, hitting his former comrade in the chest. Raike fell to the down and lay silent.
Taggart walked over to his opponent and nudged him with his foot. Raike made a quiet gurgling sound as blood welled up in his mouth and leaked out of his chest, running down the roof onto the ground below. “That settles that I suppose.” Taggart looked at the sleeping city’s skyline and got his bearings. Satisfied that he’d found his way back to the tavern, Taggart climbed down the wall to the street and walked back in the now quiet night. Devoid of all sound except Taggart’s quiet footsteps and the blood dripping off the rooftop.
Taggart had hardly made it a block away from where he had killed Raike before he was attacked. Two soldiers turned around a corner and saw him. Normally, that wouldn’t have been an issue, but these two had probably been chasing Taggart before, since were now running him with their weapons drawn.
Taggart swore angrily and drew his short-sword. The first soldier reached Taggart and swung at his neck with a sword. Taggart ducked underneath the attack and thrust at his attacker. The man cried out in pain and stepped back, holding a hand to his chest, right beneath the ribcage. The second man came at Taggart with a spear.
The soldier thrust forward and Taggart dodged away from the attack. Taggart stepped forward and tried to slash at the man’s throat, but he jumped back, and started to circle around Taggart, his spear held at the ready. The other soldier returned to the fray, wielding his sword with his free arm. His other arm still held to his wound.
Taggart parried the attack and struck back, his sword sliding between the man’s ribs and passing through his heart. The soldier stiffened and slide off of the blade, as Taggart turned to face the other solider. That turn saved his life. The man had thrust forward with a shout of rage and hit Taggart in the side. Had he not turned the thrust would’ve killed him.
Taggart grunted in pain and threw his sword at the remaining soldier. The blade buried itself in the man’s shoulder. He stepped back and tried to remove the weapon lodged in him. Taggart took this opportunity to remove the spear in his side. He groaned as the blade left him, blood spurting from his wound. Great, another scar. Taggart turned the spear around and reversed his grip. He lifted the weapon into the air and threw the spear like a javelin. It wasn’t a strong throw, but he was close, and the spearhead burrowed into the soldier, throwing him back onto the ground.
Taggart weakly retrieved his sword and heard shouting down the street. He quickly ducked into an alley, his vision hazy. He had to get to a healer and fast. It seemed like an eternity before he found someone he could trust. He limped through the door and called out. Then he promptly blacked out.
He woke several hours later. His wound had been cleaned and bandaged. The doctor wasn’t there right now, but that would change. He had to get out of this city though. Taggart knew there would be guards after him. Taggart looked for his clothes and got dressed, wincing in pain. His clothes had been cleaned and mended. He took his coin-purse and put a good amount of money on a table, collected his things, and left.
He had to go somewhere, but where? There was very few places he could go where they wouldn’t try to catch or kill him. St. Jessica? No, too religious. They wouldn’t like him there. Alann? He’d probably stab some elves as soon as he crossed the border. That wouldn’t do. Nobody wanted a Mistlander. Enris! That was it. Nobody in their right mind would go there. The resurgence of undead would be enough to keep people away. People would probably like his skills there too. Maybe he could get payed to help people for the first time in years.
Taggart made his way to the docks. He would be able to stow away on a ship bound for Enris. He knew someone would help him escape. A few days later, Taggart was riding in the cargo hold of a merchant vessel. The gentle sway of the ship as it made its way west making him sick. Taggart thought of his friends and their betrayal. He choked back tears and held his side. This won’t do. He was a warrior. A tough man. A tough man shouldn’t cry like this. It was unbecoming. The last time he cried was as a boy. He was older now. He was a man now. He was a warrior now.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation):
Taggart’s main goal is to survive and make a living. He mostly wants to help people, but he will do what he’s paid to do, sometimes.
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
Taggart is a warrior. He knows how to fight with a few different kinds of weapons, but his favorites are short-swords and Bows. He can also climb well, and run very fast. He tries to look on the bright side of everything, and tries to find a little joy in everything. He also tries to be as helpful to people as possible. Assuming they don’t get on his bad-side.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.):
Taggart is not a very diplomatic person. He can be very blunt, which often leads him into trouble. He’s also very foolhardy, and has a difficult time taking some situations seriously. He is allergic to sea-food. And he is afraid of goats. He also has a bad temper, especially when people bring up his Mistland heritage (Only when used in the negative, otherwise he’s very proud about it). He also can’t stand people that treat him like dirt because of his social status. He often contradicts himself
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Taggart tries to look at the bright side of life. He feels that if you are going to die one day, might as well make what time you have left a little fun. Because of this, he tries to crack jokes whenever her can. Sometimes at the expense of others, or himself. His humor can at times be misinterpreted as arrogance at times, but he doesn’t care. Taggart can be open and friendly to strangers, but he feels that first impressions are very important, and will judge people based off of that. Taggart is very confident in his abilities and won’t shirk from a fight. But despite this, he has a sensitive side, that he is very reluctant to show anyone. Taggart also abides by a strict code of honor that only he seems to know.
Ahh, I remember you lads, itsa been awhile. Shrines of the Ancient is where I think I dappled in a bit with my old, ****e of a PC. Too bad my computer was interfering greatly with the RP experience.
I'll be working on an app soon, glad to see you guys are still afloat and going strong after all these years. Really gives me hope for the Minecraft RP scene.
This is a very detailed app, I'll give you that. Your character just seems a bit too overpowered. For example, he throws both a sword and javelin with enough force to kill two seperate, armed, armored guards while badly injured. That's just something that will probably not fly in RP. Also, his weaknesses don't really feel like they're all that weak, per se. I mean, he's afraid of goats but there are no goats in Minecraft, and he gets mad when people insult his culture. The latter is understandable, but more like a natural reaction that most people would have. Contradicting himself too seems more like a trait than an actual weakness, and if he's allergic to seafood that seems like something that's easy enough to avoid partaking in without much of an impact on his life. Maybe make him actually unintelligent, or less strong than he currently is; he just needs something to make him less perfect. Just tone down how strong he is and introduce some more potent flaws and you should be good. Good luck!
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional):
Already there
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?:
Yep
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Powergaming is forcing RP upon others, or just doing things that your character should clearly be unable to do.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Metagaming is the usage of information gained OOC for your benefit IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Roleplay taking the role of a character and putting yourself in their shoes.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
Nobody
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When there is an IC reason to do so, and when the other player is all right with the decision.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
You may speak OOC when you use the OOC channel, or use double parenthesis (if you are in the IC channel)
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
I’ve been a part of the SG community since Silver Age, and I also do a great deal of Table Top Roleplaying, as well as other text Roleplaying.
Character Information
Name: Taggart
Age: 26
Race: Human (born in Mistland)
Physical description: Taggart is a taller man at 5’11’’, He has dark brown hair that is generally unkempt, but not dirty. He doesn’t wear a beard, as he’s never been able to grow one. He is well muscled from years of mercenary work. He’s got scars and scrapes all over his body as souvenirs from many fights. He’s taken great care to make sure none of them mar his face though.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Brandon dubiously opened the door to the tavern. He was in one of the seedier parts of town and wasn’t sure what to expect. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked inside. Soon after stepping inside, the man wrinkled his nose in disgust. The tavern smelled of stale beer and unwashed men. This was definitely somewhere he didn’t want to be. The patrons were mostly drunk and noisy, filling the building with raucous laughter. A few of the tavern-goes stared curiously at the newcomer. No doubt wondering how much money he had in his purse no doubt.
Brandon closed the door behind him and moved into the smoke-filled taproom and covered his nose and mouth with a cloth. He looked around for the man he was sent to meet. He was a mercenary, and from what he’d heard a rather good one. And not too expensive. As he scanned the room he saw a man in the corner stand up and wave him over. That’d probably be him.
“I’ve come from my lord about the job proposition.” Brandon said, taking a seat in front of the mercenary. He was a taller fellow, with dark hair and a stupid grin. “Are you Taggart?”
Taggart nodded and took a long drink from his flagon. He set it down after what seemed like two minutes and belched loudly. “Sorry bout that pal. You know how it is with ale. Delicious stuff, but hard to keep down. So, you’re the one from Lord whatshisname?” he said flippantly, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.
“Yes, I’m here from Lord Ka-“
“Oh!” Taggart interrupted. “I got you a drink too buddy! Here.” He slid he flagon across the table to Brandon.
“Yes. . .” Brandon said slowly, nudging the drink away from him tentatively. “Drinks aside, I think we have use of someone with your skills.”
“Which ones? I can do lots of fun things. I can stab, I can shoot a bow, I can climb things, I can break windows, I can break bones. I have also been known to do a nice jig on occasion. That costs extra though.”
Brandon sighed. He hated dealing with Mistlanders. Dumb country hicks. Every one of them. But this fellow raised a few questions. “How did you manage to learn all of that?”
“Well, the jigs aren’t hard. Just get everyone drunk enough and it’ll seem like you’re doing the right moves.”
“No,” Brandon said exasperated. “I meant the other things.”
“Oh, those, well, when I was a boy I lived in Mistland. You can learn lots of fun tricks down there. Like how to catch three frogs with one fish and a glass bottle. But that’s beside the point. I’ve only found three times to use that. Anyway, I lived there until I was about fifteen years old. Learned to hunt and fight with me pop. Learned to climb trees of my own volition. I left home after my parents died. Mum died of sickness. Cow kicked my pop in the face.”
“Oh. I’m sorr-“
“Then, I went to Rinion.” Taggart continued. “Couldn’t get a good job anywhere. Everyone thought I was a fool or something. So I lived on the street. Got real good at stealing and running. And stabbing and running. I was running a lot of the time. Then, I joined a band of mercenaries. Fun fellas they was. Not a bad source of income either. After a few jobs though, I decided to strike out on my own. But enough about me. What’s the job pal?”
“Right, thanks for that little story by the way. So, my lord wants you to kill a rival of his. He’s tried to best him through political intrigue, but it seems that he’s failed. So, he’d like you to and your men to kill him.”
Taggart smiled widely. “This is why I like Forezzie. You noble folk are always ready to stick a knife in someone’s ribs. Keeps the little folk like me in work! I mean, your dainty little fingers could hardly hold a dagger I’ll wager!”
Brandon grimaced and grumbled quietly. “What do you say?”
“Well, I need to know a few things first? Like are there gonna be dogs? What about kittens? I don’t kill puppies and kittens. I’m not gonna off this fella’s family either. And can I keep whatever loot I find?”
“There’ll just be some guards. No animals. You just need to kill one person. And please don’t rob anyone. Just murder. Do you understand? I have instructions if you need them.” Then he said under his breath, “not that you could read them anyway.”
“That’d be lovely! And I’ll take half of the payment now if you please.” Taggart said holding out his hand expectantly.
Brandon placed a folded piece of parchment and a coin-purse in Taggart’s hand. “If that’s it I think I’ll go.” He said as Taggart looked over the paper. It was upside down.
“That’ll be all mister. Go back to Lord Whatshisname and tell him his friend will be dead and he’ll be the king of all Forezzie by the end of the week!” Taggart called after Braden as he was leaving. “Pretentious little snot.” He said to nobody in particular, looking over the instructions, now right side up.
Sometime later, Taggart was talking with his three friends. They were going to be his crew on this mission. There was Melvin, Stuart, and Raike.
“So, Melvin and Stuart will go in here,” Taggart said pointing at the map provided by Raike. “And I’ll go in through here. Raike will stay and guard here.”
“I’m still not sure about this Taggart.” Melvin said nervously. “We’ve killed people before, and it wasn’t exactly hard. But this is a Lord! Not some merchant or bandit gang.”
“Yes, but the pay is nice Melvin.” Taggart said matter-of-factly.
“Right, that’s all well and nice Taggart, but why should we do this? We can get just as much money by robbing a fat merchant.” Stuart observed.
“That’s true Stuart. But, imagine it. Us, king-slayers! Bringers of destiny! We shall change the world!” Taggart was standing now holding a clenched fist high above his head.
Raike sighed. “I can’t stand it when you do this whole,” he gestured vaguely at Taggart. “Dramatic thing.”
Taggart scoffed and sat down. “The heroes from stories and songs are dramatic. But anyway, are we gonna do this or not?”
The other men muttered their assent and Taggart smiled happily.
Taggart nudged open the door to the castle kitchen quietly. He snuck through the room carefully, walking on the balls of his feet, his soft-soled boots making little noise on the stone floor. Taggart moved towards the door at the other end of the room, stopping only to grab a loaf of bread someone had left out. If all was going right, Melvin and Stuart should already be inside.
Taggart left the kitchen and crept down the corridors, looking for the stairs. The Lord’s room would certainly be near the top. He just had to figure out where. As he walked down the hall, he heard shouting coming from the courtyard. Something had gone wrong. Taggart was about to dash down the stairs when he heard metal-shod feet tramping his way. They couldn’t be that hard to dispatch, it sounded like there couldn’t be more than 3 of them. Taggart shook his head. He didn’t want to kill more people than he had to tonight. He was in a good mood, and didn’t want to ruin the evening for more people than necessary. He opened the nearest door and stepped inside.
The inhabitants of the room were awake and shouted with surprise when Taggart stepped inside. Taggart quickly moved a nearby chair under the door and looked at his new friends. It was clearly the man he was sent to kill and his wife. Judging by the gaudy decorations in the room. “Sorry about that sir.” Taggart said politely nodding his head.
“Who are you?” the lord said angrily. His clenched fists shaking.
“I’m Taggart. I’m a mercenary who was sent to kill you. It’s not personal mind you. A man’s gotta make a living after all.” Taggart shrugged. “I think something went wrong though, so I’m more concerned with leaving than defenestrating you.”
“What?”
“Defenestration. It’s throwing someone out of a window good sir. I thought that it would be a rather fun way to kill you. Less messy than sticking you with a sword, and you can tell all your friends what fun you had on your way down!”
Both the lord and his wife looked confused now. “Wh- who send you to kill us?” he asked uncertainly.
“Oh, some fellow with a grumpy messenger boy. Said you were a rival of his. Also said that he tried to beat you through good-ol-fashion politics. I could never get the hang of that stuff. I’m more of a fighter myself anyway. Just point me in the right direction.”
“You will die, you know that right?” the lord said, his voice cold as ice.
`“Well, now that’s something I’ve heard many times. But, not today. I’ve got a pressing engagement elsewhere.” Taggart said moving to the window. “Sorry for disturbing your rest m’lady.” He said nodding to the lord’s wife. “I’ll just leave this here though.” He said kindly putting his instructions on the floor. And with that, he climbed out the window and was gone.
It was sometime later when Taggart found Melvin in a back alley. His friend was bleeding from a large cut on his left arm and a stab wound to the stomach. “The guards were onto us Taggart. They knew we were coming.” He said seriously.
“Did they get Stuart?” Taggart inquired, looking very worried.
Melvin nodded. “A man with a halberd jumped out from around a corner and stabbed him in the chest. Then he took off his head.” Melvin sobbed. “Then a sneaky little guy got me in the stomach. I got both of them back though.” He said with steel in his voice. “Did you kill the guy?”
Taggart shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance.” He lied. “Stuart was a good friend. It’s sad to see him go. Have you seen Raike?”
Melvin opened his mouth to answer when there was a voice at the end of the alley. “There they are!” Several armed soldiers appeared in the narrow space began to file after them. Melvin started to run when he was struck with an arrow in the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth as he cried out. “Run!”
Taggart nodded and ran. He dashed through the streets and alleys, trying to throw off his pursuers. After an hour he had finally lost them. He leaned against a building, breathing heavily. After he had caught his breath, he realized he had no idea where he was. This city was big, and he was relatively new. He sighed and began climbing up the side of the building.
“Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve found the last one.” Raike said. “You led those soldiers on a merry little chase. You’re not going to escape me though.”
Taggart looked at him in shock. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean I’m going to kill you can collect a reward. It’s simple. I already helped kill the other guys. So I might as well finish the job.” Raike said calmly.
“You perfidious fiend!” Taggart shouted his hand going to his short-sword at his side.
“What?” Raike asked, lowering his sword slightly.
“It means you’re a traitorous scumbag.”
“Where did you learn all of these words!?” Raike screamed, becoming very angry. “Where did a Mistland hick like you learn to read!?”
Taggart grimaced and moved his hand away from his sword and started to draw his bow. “I snuck into some classes while I was in Rinion. Learned lots of things. I just play the fool sometimes. Now why did you betray us?” He growled angrily.
“The pay was very good. Better than the pay for killing him. So after we finished planning I went and talked to your target. He was very accommodating. Not like I cared about you anyway. You’re just another lost Mistlander. Far from home, with no family. Nobody would care if you died anyway. And, to top it all off you’re a killer. I’d be doing a service.”
“I don’t just kill Raike,” Taggart said trying to hold back his rage. “I steal and rob and loot and beat.” Taggart said flashing a quick grin. But I also protect, and guard, and help. I do what I’m paid to do.”
“How can you be so annoying at a time like this?” Raike demanded. “I’m about to kill you, and you have the nerve to crack a joke and act like a dramatic hero.”
“Oh, it’s easy you just do this. “ Taggart quickly nocked an arrow and fired it at Raike. The arrow struck the surprised man in the thigh and he cried out in pain. Taggart quickly nocked another arrow and fired, hitting his former comrade in the chest. Raike fell to the down and lay silent.
Taggart walked over to his opponent and nudged him with his foot. Raike made a quiet gurgling sound as blood welled up in his mouth and leaked out of his chest, running down the roof onto the ground below. “That settles that I suppose.” Taggart looked at the sleeping city’s skyline and got his bearings. Satisfied that he’d found his way back to the tavern, Taggart climbed down the wall to the street and walked back in the now quiet night. Devoid of all sound except Taggart’s quiet footsteps and the blood dripping off the rooftop.
Taggart had hardly made it a block away from where he had killed Raike before he was attacked. Two soldiers turned around a corner and saw him. Normally, that wouldn’t have been an issue, but these two had probably been chasing Taggart before, since were now running him with their weapons drawn.
Taggart swore angrily and drew his short-sword. The first soldier reached Taggart and swung at his neck with a sword. Taggart ducked underneath the attack and thrust at his attacker. The man cried out in pain and stepped back, holding a hand to his chest, right beneath the ribcage. The second man came at Taggart with a spear.
The soldier thrust forward and Taggart dodged away from the attack. Taggart stepped forward and tried to slash at the man’s throat, but he jumped back, and started to circle around Taggart, his spear held at the ready. The other soldier returned to the fray, wielding his sword with his free arm. His other arm still held to his wound.
Taggart parried the attack and struck back, his sword sliding between the man’s ribs and passing through his heart. The soldier stiffened and slide off of the blade, as Taggart turned to face the other solider. That turn saved his life. The man had thrust forward with a shout of rage and hit Taggart in the side. Had he not turned the thrust would’ve killed him.
Taggart grunted in pain and threw his sword at the remaining soldier. The blade buried itself in the man’s shoulder. He stepped back and tried to remove the weapon lodged in him. Taggart took this opportunity to remove the spear in his side. He groaned as the blade left him, blood spurting from his wound. Great, another scar. Taggart turned the spear around and reversed his grip. He lifted the weapon into the air and threw the spear like a javelin. It wasn’t a strong throw, and it wasn’t very accurate, and thus the spear grazed the soldier, scratching his armor.
The soldier removed the sword and tossed it aside, then retrieved the spear. Taggart looked at him in dismay and tried to run, swearing about losing his sword. Taggart wasn’t very fast, and it wasn’t hard for the soldier to catch him. Taggart stumbled on a loose stone on the road and fell over, unintentionally dodging the spear thrust that would’ve pierced his back. The soldier, expecting to hit something, was thrown off balance by his thrust. He too fell and he and Taggart lay on the road in a tangled mass.
The fight wasn’t an easy one for either party. The soldier’s shoulder hurt, and Taggart’s side was bleeding profusely. They rolled around for a bit, trying to strangle each other. The soldier managed to wrap his hands around Taggart’s throat, and began to squeeze.
Taggart tried in vain to punch the soldier off of him, gasping for breath. His punches did nothing, and he was starting to lose consciousness. He scrabbled at the soldier’s belt for a weapon. Anything would be good. His hand wrapped around the hilt of a dagger and he pulled it from it’s scabbard. He brought it up to the soldier’s neck and thrust several times, puncturing the side of his neck, and spraying blood everywhere.
The soldier feel limp and Taggart struggled to get out from under him. When he was free, he retrieved his sword and started to limp down the road. A doctor he knew lived close by. They would help him. As he lurched through the doorway, he called out for help and collapsed.
He woke several hours later. His wound had been cleaned and bandaged. The doctor wasn’t there right now, but that would change. He had to get out of this city though. Taggart knew there would be guards after him. Taggart looked for his clothes and got dressed, wincing in pain. His clothes had been cleaned and mended. He took his coin-purse and put a good amount of money on a table, collected his things, and left.
He had to go somewhere, but where? There was very few places he could go where they wouldn’t try to catch or kill him. St. Jessica? No, too religious. They wouldn’t like him there. Alann? He’d probably stab some elves as soon as he crossed the border. That wouldn’t do. Nobody wanted a Mistlander. Enris! That was it. Nobody in their right mind would go there. The resurgence of undead would be enough to keep people away. People would probably like his skills there too. Maybe he could get payed to help people for the first time in years.
Taggart made his way to the docks. He would be able to stow away on a ship bound for Enris. He knew someone would help him escape. A few days later, Taggart was riding in the cargo hold of a merchant vessel. The gentle sway of the ship as it made its way west making him sick. Taggart thought of his friends and their betrayal. He choked back tears and held his side. This won’t do. He was a warrior. A tough man. A tough man shouldn’t cry like this. It was unbecoming. The last time he cried was as a boy. He was older now. He was a man now. He was a warrior now.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation):
Taggart’s main goal is to survive and make a living. He mostly wants to help people, but he will do what he’s paid to do, sometimes.
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
Taggart is a warrior. He knows how to fight with a few different kinds of weapons, but his favorites are short-swords and Bows. He can also climb well, and run very fast. He tries to look on the bright side of everything, and tries to find a little joy in everything. He also tries to be as helpful to people as possible. Assuming they don’t get on his bad-side.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.):
Taggart is not a very diplomatic person. He can be very blunt, which often leads him into trouble. He’s also very foolhardy, and has a difficult time taking some situations seriously. He is allergic to sea-food. And he is afraid of cows.
He has a bad temper, especially when people bring up his Mistland heritage (Only when used in the negative, otherwise he’s very proud about it). He also can’t stand people that treat him like dirt because of his social status.
Taggart is also the victim of crippling stomach pains, due to an arrow wound. These pains have been known to bring him to his knees for sometimes hours on end. In addition to these stomach pains Taggart suffers from migraines, due to many hard blows to his head.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Taggart tries to look at the bright side of life. He feels that if you are going to die one day, might as well make what time you have left a little fun. Because of this, he tries to crack jokes whenever her can. Sometimes at the expense of others, or himself. His humor can at times be misinterpreted as arrogance at times, but he doesn’t care. Taggart can be open and friendly to strangers, but he feels that first impressions are very important, and will judge people based off of that. Taggart is very confident in his abilities and won’t shirk from a fight. But despite this, he has a sensitive side, that he is very reluctant to show anyone. Taggart also abides by a strict code of honor that only he seems to know. He often contradicts himself.
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): I'll PM
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yeap
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Forcing an action on a player that is difficult/impossible to react to. Eg: Chops head off with one stroke
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Using Out-of-context information while In Character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Acting out a character based on assigned traits and characterisitcs
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
God who is actually Olymp .... just kidding no one
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When Bae wants some blood (Void)
When the party whose character is about to die consents
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
OOC channel or use parentheses (( Hello I miss this server )) in roleplay chat
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
Hmm ... 3 years, the first year spent playing small roleplay servers which no longer exist with the names, MCDieval. The next two years I expanded my horizons and suddenly I found myself stuck in the tyranny of Bae's rule and could never leave the Silver Gaming servers such as Silver Age, Book of Halegron, Shrine of Ancients and The Wayward Ones. I only escaped the Anaerian Chronicles (( I cried for missing it, long live Jensen)).
Character Information
Name: Emelina Riyandare
Age: 24
Race: Human / Forezzie
Physical description:
Being rather tall for a woman, standing at a height of 5"6 and weighing 121 pounds. She has lustrous brown hair but it can not be seen too clearly as she wears a hood. Inheriting deep gray eyes from her father, it makes her look like she has a serious look on her face all the time. At the moment, she wears a blue cloak which she used to hide her appearance in the Crownsland but she would be willing to change to something more comfortable and fitting the moment she reaches Enris and finds suitable wear.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very
fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more
than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being
killed by bandits or the like):
((Welk killed my family, and so I escaped to Enris .... JK ))
The Riyandare family are just one of the many noble families in Forezzie fighting for power with other families. This family was not one of the higher, stronger and well-established families but instead, are one of the weaker ones competing against opponents of the same caliber. Thus in order to increase their strength, the Riyandare family would use any method at their disposable to increase the power base.
The third child of the family and the only daughter, Emelina was raised while being heavily influenced by the political instability of Forezzie and her two older brothers. The political instability of Forezzie had made it so that raising a daughter to be prim and proper like a noblelady was at the bottom of the priority list of the Riyandare's family head, Emelina's father. As such Emelina was given little attention and thus she felt invisible to her father, who would ever so rarely talk with her and so she wanted to gain his attention. That was when she was about eight years old. Unhappy that she had received little to no attention from her father, she began following him around the family keep, finding out the things he paid attention to the most. After almost a week, she noticed that he paid alot of attention to the training of the men of the castle, spending most of his time in the yard watching his people do their combat drills. With that, she assumed that her father liked to watch people who knows how to use weapons.
"Big brother, can Eme learn sword?"
Her two older brothers were enthusiastic with helping their little sister learn the ropes about combat and the usage of the sword. They taught her what their own instructors taught them which consisted of holding an imaginary sword from its right end, swinging a stick in correct motions and physical training such as running to build up her stamina and holding up her brothers' weighted wooden weapons to train her strength. A slow year passes by but at the end of it, she felt like it was worth it as one day in the middle of her training, her father talked to her.
"If you want to be better in the arts of warfare, this horsing around would get you no where."
He said, not looking at her while walking past her. However, following behind him was a slim young man who stopped before Emelina.
"Greetings young mistress, your father has paid me to teach you."
The man who would be her instructor for the years to come fought with a fighting style which he labelled to Emelina as "dueling" and people who practiced this arts were called duelists. Dueling consisted of fighting by hitting an opponent's weak points instead of a classical brawl of strength when two swords clash. The duelist wore minimal armor and relied mainly on instinct and agility to dodge their opponents blows. This however leaves them open to ranged attacks.
At the end of 7 years of training, Emelina had mastered what her instructor had taught her and at the end of it, she had finally earned her father's attention. However, the 7 years spent training had made degraded her social skills as she was a lone student and her training had occupied most of her time, giving her little time to go out and interact. Thus, her personality was affected. From the little hyperactive girl to become a silent,loyal warrior who would follow every command given to her as she had done in the past 7 years and rarely question the motives behind them.
"Sit with me. Tell me about your training."
It was like a dream come true when her father would occasionally call her out at the dinner table to ask about her progress. Even if he did not seem very interested, she was happy that he would finally face her and listen to her.
*********
"The border's just over there! Once we make it across they're stop chasing."
He shouted as he ran. Behind him, Emelina and her second brother was running as well and behind them, dust clouds could be seen as horsemen pursued after them.
"They're catching up!"
Her second brother shouted as the dust clouds moved closer and dark shadows representing the riders could be seen. The three picked up the pace and further ahead, they could see a forest.
"We're never going to make it! That's the XXX forest, we're still too far from the border."
The oldest brother cried out in despair and his pace slowed down. Emelina ran forward and slapped her brother on the back, urging him to go faster. They had made it to the forest but now the horsemen were only minutes away.
"It's all over. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more."
The oldest brother apologized, slumping against a tree. The second brother was patting the older sibling's shoulder, trying to calm him down. A short quiet moment passed for the three Riyandares, only interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats approaching closer. Emelina, making her decision, hugged both her brothers and they, while slightly confused returned the gesture.
"Go."
She told them as she drew her rapier, a thin sword suited for stabbing which fitted her style of combat. They both cried out in protest and immediately drew out their swords as well but then Emelina shouted.
"You're the two main successors to the family! Make us proud and my sacrifice not in vain."
They were both shaken by the fact that their little sister, who was normally quiet, shouted at them with such conviction. Nodding, tears in their eyes, they continued running into the forest towards the border to the Crownlands. Smiling as she watched the two escape, she faced the incoming horsemen.
Unable to ride their horses through the forest, the pursuers dismounted and led their horses through the forest. Emelina wanted to laugh when she saw it was just three men. Likely just outriders who were sent to keep tabs on them and not the main pursuing force which was likely five times larger. In the thick undergrowth she waited as the men followed the footprints which her brothers had left. Hidden behind a thick tree, the first men who was running forward was impaled in the neck by the thin sword and he died immediately. The other two men were shocked but quickly drew their weapons, ready to avenge their comrade. One of them ran forward, sword raised but the other was still trying to get his weapon from his horse. Emelina took note that the sword was a cheap short sword, a weapon she could easily parry and so as the man swung it down, she struck the tip of the blade, deflecting it and the man fell forward, off-balance from hitting air and as he tried to get up, the blade pierced his back.
'One more to go'
Emelina thought but as she tried to draw out the sword but she realized she had missed the man's heart and both his hands had reached behind, desperately holding the sword to prevent her from pulling it out. Panicked, she tried her best to pull it out but her strength could not beat a dying man's desperate strength and she eventually fell backwards, tripping over a tree root in the process.
"Go to hell, *****."
Were the dying man's words as his hand slowly slackened. His comrade roared in anger as he approached, holding a poleaxe which he finally managed to remove from his horse.
'I could outrun him.'
Emelina thought but as she stood up, pain surged through her leg. She had twisted it when she tripped over. The last pursuer, noticing her struggling to get up smiled maliciously as he approached knowing she had little way to escape. Emelina crawled backwards, drawing her dagger and holding it in her hand but she knew her efforts were futile. There was no way she could outrun lest kill him.
"Die!"
The man had reached her and swung his poleaxe down. The Deities had blessed her with a miracle as his poleaxe got trapped, mid-swing against the branches of a tree. Knowing she had little time, she leapt up from her position, ignoring the overwhelming pain from her leg and inserted the dagger into the man's stomach. Not finishing there, she took out the dagger again and stabbed into the chest area, repeating the process until she finally got the man's heart. Exhausted, barely keeping her head together. She limped for the man's horse and pulled it out of the forest and rode away before the rest of her pursuers to catch up.
*********
It was her 18th birthday, her father had invited the lords who were his allies to his castle the celebrate it and to present possible suitors for his daughter. The hall was loud as Emelina entered the hall with the many noblemen and women cheering. It was so hectic that no one had noticed the events outside the castle.
"Father! We have been betrayed!"
Her two brothers entered the hall swiftly, shouting the news to her father across the hall. They were covered in blood, holding dripping crimson swords but they were unscathed. The crowd erupted into chaos as the nobles ran around in panic.
"Eme!"
Her father shouted, hugging her and with his huge frame, he blocked the crossbow bolts that were aimed at her. He winced and looked down, satisfied that his daughter was safe. The two brothers had ran forward to their father. Barely standing, hugging his daughter weakly he told the three.
"Escape to Enris. Ensure ... this ... not unpunished. Children ... Love ... you."
*********
In the end, Emelina made it to the Crownlands and eventually took a boat to Enris. The fate of her brothers were alone. Had they made it to Crownlands and then into Enris? She would have to find out once she reached her destination
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To find her brothers and return to her family lands
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
A duelist who excels in 1 against 1 combat. She's also extremely loyal and is very unlikely to betray someone. Having fought before, she is unfazed by blood and gore. Experiencing nearly dying has made her more cautious and level headed in her decision making.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's
strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that
is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use
a bow as a miner.):
While she excels at 1 against 1 combat, fighting more than 1 opponent would be dangerous for her as her fighting style requires her to wear minimal armor. Long-reaching weapons like a spear or poleaxe are tough opponents for her and ranged weapons are her biggest witness as she only uses a sword and can't carry a shield. Also, her blind loyalty could be her downfall as she could be exploited by devious characters and she rarely questions decisions once she designated someone as her master.
What is your character's personality?
(Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't
fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Having interacted very little, she's not shy but her speech can be stiff and too serious at times. She also maintains a proper distance from everyone, not letting anyone get too close to her (except for her siblings) and yet letting people remember her somehow.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Arturan (Not sure about this, my char is from Forezzie)
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
1 Simple proficiency
1 Martial proficiency (I'm looking for sword proficiency)
Your traits MUST COINCIDE with your
character in description and biography. Whitelisters can and will defer
apps if your traits do not match your character. New characters begin
with 7 trait points, but a final eighth point can be earned in character
through training. Some traits such as alchemy and arcane magic can only
be obtained in game. You can learn new traits through in-character
training at the expense of replacing one of your previously known
traits. Some traits cost more than one point, so please ask if you have
any questions.
(Just a note, Renee, Martial Weapon Prof requires Simple Weapon Prof, which also costs one point, and "Fast Healer" isn't on the list of options for the Human bonus trait)
Ahh, I remember you lads, itsa been awhile. Shrines of the Ancient is where I think I dappled in a bit with my old, ****e of a PC. Too bad my computer was interfering greatly with the RP experience.
I'll be working on an app soon, glad to see you guys are still afloat and going strong after all these years. Really gives me hope for the Minecraft RP scene.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
7/7/2011
Posts:
371
Minecraft:
Tiffosaur
Member Details
Out of Character Information
IGN: Tiffosaur
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username?: I’m already in!
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes!!
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Powergaming is, in short, doing the impossible. Doing the impossible would include controlling another’s character or forcing an action on a character, being OP in general, etc.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Metagaming is when one has their character have knowledge they would not normally have, meaning they use sources from Out-of-Character to their advantage In-Character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Roleplay is when one takes control of a character, and deciding their actions, feelings and thoughts.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the owner of the dying character agrees to letting their character die.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: When using the message system, in OOO chat, or using ((brackets)) around the OOC text.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere?: I’ve roleplayed on many Minecraft servers - including Silver Gaming’s previous servers - as well as on Skype. At the moment, I am in a Steven Universe RP group on Skype. I’ve previously roleplayed on Tumblr. In addition to these, I’ve also done forum RP, such as the RWBY RPG forum RP.
Character Information
Name: Allania Elora
Age: 59
Race: Elf
Physical description: Allania stands 6’3”, weighing a good 136 pounds. She adorns short blonde hair, which frames her oval shaped face. Allie’s eyes glimmer a strong green, her strong cheekbones and sharp jawline complimenting said optics. Her skin is fair, from long hours spent in the sun. She possesses long, sharp ears, as most Elves do. Allania appears slender, weak, fragile, but due to hours of physical labor, she’s actually quite strong. Her wear usually differs, depending on what she’s doing, but her usual attire consists of a long-sleeved green shirt; over it is a brown vest. On her dominant hand (Her right), she wears brown fingerless gloves, while her other is left bare. Though, she embellishes a golden-colored bracer on her left, which was given to her by her father. Her russet-colored pants are cut off by brown boots.
Allania was the first of two children to Ashera and Deldrach Elora. The beginning of her life was fairly simple - she was treated well by her parents. 11 years into Allie’s life, whilst she was still in her youth, her mother became pregnant once again. Allie was excited, to say the very least. 5 years passed before Meriel was born. Allania was ecstatic. She spoiled and loved her sister - perhaps even more than her own parents did! Meriel was Allie’s first best friend, there was nothing more than Meriel that Allie adored.
Allania’s life was fairly simple for the most part. Her family’s farm amongst the many settlements in Beschwall was quiet. She spent the first 25 years of her life simply working with her parents and spending time with Meriel. Though, once the Elora’s were informed of a band of Savages that were going around and pillaging farms, Allania began to learn the way of archery. She wanted to protect her family and her home. Deldrach understood the basics of archery - his own mother had been an archer and tried to teach him. He taught his oldest daughter of what little knowledge he had of it. In addition, he gave her his mother’s archery bracer. From there, Allania trained on her own.
Another 15 years passed. Days were spent tending to the farm, practicing archery, selling crops. Allie had even taken on the hobby of playing a violin! It was a boring life, but satisfactory for Allania. She had her family, she wanted nothing more, but of course, nothing lasts forever.
It had been a quiet night; she and her family were asleep. The last thing she expected was to be awoken to a frightened sister. Allania comforted her, asking what was wrong, and soon learned that someone entered the home. Allie insisted it was nothing, that Meriel was just hearing things, but to make her sibling feel better, she went to see what it was. Meriel insisted that Allie take her bow with her, so she did. The halls of her home were dark and eerie, her steps were quiet, eyes alert.
She moved to the first floor and stopped when she heard some rustling. Quickly, she drew back her bow, weapon raised and aimed at a faint figure in the darkness. The figure stepped forward, and the faint light from a window revealed a sickly-green skinned human. Their skin was rotting; it was the first time Allania had seen a Savage. She was mortified. The young elf yelled for the monstrosity to step back, and they did so. The Savage slowly moved towards the exit, but Allie’s father came bursting out his bedroom when he heard the yell.
Allania watched as the Savage turned, jabbing a hidden knife into the neck of her father. With a cry, her arrow soared, burrowing itself into the Savage’s forehead. Both her father and the intruder fell to the ground. Meriel rushed downstairs, but Allania pushed her back upstairs, tears falling from her eyes. Her hand was placed over her mouth to muffle cries. She stumbled up the stairs with her sister, and it wasn’t long before she heard a horrified scream from her mother, with loud cries after. Her father was gone, dead, never to awake again, never to kiss her goodnight, never to tell her she’s done good.
Allie spent the night sitting in front of the staircase, crying and making sure her younger sister did not get past her. Allania didn’t want Meriel to see something as terrible as their father’s dead body. Once dawn came and Meriel had given up and went to sleep, Allania returned to the two bodies. Her mother was locked in her room. She stared down at the pool of blood that had formed, before grabbing the Savage’s shirt and pulling him up onto her shoulder. She lugged him out of the house, then threw his dead body into the nearby forest.
Then, next to their farm, she began to dig. Years of physical labor had made her strong, strong enough to do it herself, strong enough to throw her dad’s body into a grave alone. Blood stained her hands, from the Savage and Deldrach. She might’ve been physically strong, but her emotions, she felt, were out of control. She was confused on what to feel. Afraid of what’s to come? Mournful for her father? Desolate for her family’s loss? Anger at the Savages? Guilty for not killing the Savage sooner? The list could go on. Allania finally understood what it meant to lose someone.
The Elora family had to keep living though, with Deldrach or not. They resumed their day to day jobs, but it wasn’t the same. Allania would work on the farm in the mornings, but hunt for Savages during the evening. She hated them. She thought of them as simply target practice for her archery.
At the age of 42, during one of her hunts, she stumbled upon a small child. The child looked lost, afraid, misguided. Allania comforted Orianna, the child, and offered to take her in for a night. It was growing dark, the Elf didn’t want a young girl to wander out alone with Savages about. They returned to the Elora’s home. Once morning came around, Allie offered to bring Ori home, but quickly learned the young girl had no home. Of course, Allania took Ori in. To Allie, Ori was just like her own daughter; she treated her like one.
Years passed, all was quiet. With Orianna in the family, things became more lively. Allie smiled and laughed more, her mother was glad to have something new in the family. Ashera passed away when Allania was 57 from old age and stress. The family wasn’t as distraught as when their father died; Ashera died a happy and peaceful one.
It wasn’t until Allania turned 58 that they were forced to leave the farm. A sudden inflation of Savages appeared, and the risk of staying was too high. Allie insisted that the family leave; they gathered their things, and traveled by carriage to the Crownlands, where they sailed to Enris. Allania believed they could provide help to those defending the island.
What is your character’s main goal?: To make a living in Enris, alongside her Orianna and sister. She hopes she can keep them safe and sustain a proper family. In addition, she wishes she can redeem herself for not being able to save her father and mother, by helping Meriel leave a prosperous life.
Strengths: Allania is kind and upbeat with those she first meets. She cares deeply for her family and friends, making her loyal. In addition, she is courageous, fierce, and competitive. Years of physical labor have left her with a relatively strong upper body and high endurance.
Weaknesses: Allania can have violent tendencies sometimes. She thinks violence is the solution to everything, and she has a short temper. Allie tends to be rather impulsive and overly dramatic. She’s very self-conscious and sensitive, and tends to be over emotional. Unfortunately, she’s not the smartest of the bunch.
What is your character's personality?: When first met, she appears kind and humorous. Allania is caring and loyal, but is fierce and short-tempered. She tends to be impulsive and dramatic at times.
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yeah I have indeed.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: The act of powergaming is when a player in RP. Powergaming is when a character does something insanely impossible or OP like dodging 1 million arrows or punching through armor with a bare fist.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Metagaming is the act of when a player gives his character knowledge gained OOC to use in character for an advantage.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: To act out a character in such ways that fit the In-game characters personality and knowledge or even fighting ability
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:No one can use fly mods, X-Ray and other clientsided mods.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the character who is possibly dying role player consents to the death of their character.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: You either join the mystical realm of OOC or you use double parentheses if you in the IC chat.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I have role play on a previous Silver gaming server that being the Anerian Chronicles. I have also since then RP'ed on a RWBY RPG Forum and have recently joined a Steven Universe RP group.
Character Information
Name: Orianna "Madrei" Redlock-Elora
Age: 24 years old.
Race: Half Human, Half Elf
Physical description:
Orianna is six foot one and is slender like most elves. She lacks normal elve traits such as the pointed ears and the delayed aging process. She has fine charcoal black hair with a streak of blonde. Her hair is very wavy in appearance and has a lot volume. She has luscious lips that are peach colored. Her eyes are an Emerald green and her eyelashes are very full. Her face is very round and her cheeks are plump. She has gap in her teeth giving her London Look. Her wardrobe is very uncommon because she dresses very unusually. She is mostly seen wearing a dark red cloak, beige pants cut short and a white puffy short sleeve shirt and a leather waist sincher.
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Orianna was born to a loving Elven mother but her Human father was dead by time she was born by old age. She lived with her mother on their family farm in Beschwall but she was too young to tend to it. Her mother slaved many hours a week tending to it trying to make ends meet to support her daughter and keep her land. Orianna did not leave the house much because her mother was scared on how people would react to her being a crossbreed of a forbidden love. Though Orianna did not know why her mother didn't let her leave she listened because her mother had enough stress with tending to the farm. Though her mother came home exhausted day after day she made time to bond with her daughter telling her of a story of an Elf girl who fell in love with a Human boy that had a secret love because their parents did not approve. Orianna would wait all day for her mother to get back so she could hear the story continue with where her mother last left off. As the story began to end as the Human and the elf bought a farm to begin a family her mother began to tear up and cry. She wondered why her mother cried but at the same time was anxious to hear what happened to the couple. Her mother explained that by the time the girl was ready for kids the father had grown old because humans did not age as slow as elves. Though the girl and boy successfully had a baby by the time the child was about to be born the father had died. Her mother grabbed the daughter's shoulder and told her that she was child from the story ending the story.
This shocked Orianna but she just hugged her mom because she had a small grasp on how much she had been through. Days went on as Orianna questioned if she would age like an elf or like a human. If she would die before her mother or be taunted for her being a half elf. One day when Orianna was 7 her mother had come home a wreck crying into her daughter's shoulders. She suddenly began packing a bag and placed various objects in the bag such as a strange blade, some money, food and lastly a note. Her mother had told her that were leaving the farm and going on a trip to a better place. Her mother led her to forest like area and her mother sat her down on a rotted tree stump. Her mother teared up looking at her daughter and she told her that she was going to have to say goodbye because they had no home to go back to. She said they had lost their house and land because they couldn't keep up with payments. The mother had given Orianna the bag and told her she loved Orianna. Orianna cried as she hugged her mother one last time. She watched her mother slowly fade away from her field of vision and Orianna cried.
After hours of thinking she would die in the woods she got up and wandered for ages trying to find her mother who had left her because she couldn't live without her mommy. She stumbled upon a stranger shooting what seemed to be a bow at a target in the woods. The Elven stranger saw her to then consoled her and introduced herself as Allania. The stranger offered her shelter other than her sleeping in the woods because it was getting dark. She stayed with the stranger for a day and then, the stranger offered to bring Orianna home. Orianna cried and said she had no home to go back to because their land was taken away because her mother couldn't keep up with payments. Allania offered for her to stay as long as she wanted. After the third night of staying with Allania and her sister Meriel she had decided to read the note her mother had wrote her. She invited both women to read it with her and it explained why her mother had to leave her daughter because she didn't want her to have to live the beggar life on the streets. Allania hugged Orianna not saying a word.
As the days became months and the months became years Orianna began feeling like she had a home again. She learned the way of selling crops and produced over these years because she felt needed to work for her stay. She learned how to use the blade her mother had given her from Allania who was always her favorite out of two sisters that she lived with. When Orianna was 22 years old she finally got the realization that she was going to be aging at the speed of a human. Though this didn't bother her she knew it was something Allania and her sister were uneased by. One day when she was still 22 the Elven sister's mother had died leaving the women torn and distraught but not as torn as when their father had died before Orianna had lived with them.
Two years passed and Orianna was 24 years old when an inflation of savages had occurred in the area making it so the sister could not live in that area anymore. So Orianna her new mother and her aunt all set out to go to Enris in search of a better, safer life. Now this is where the story picks back up as start their new life in Enris.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To live a life that her mother always wanted her to. That being full of adventure, love and prosperity.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Orianna is decent in hand to hand combat and sure know how to use a blade. She is very smart and cunning because of lessons the Elven girls had taught her throughout her life. She is a very hard worker and often tries too hard to please people around her. She is a people person and often tries to friendliness to get what she wants.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): She often is very insecure about talking about herself and usually shuts down if someone does. She very gullible and usually ends up believing lies people tell her. She is an easy target to be picked on and taken advantage up. She can also be very impulsive when it comes to protecting people she loves.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): She is a very outgoing girl who often is trying to make as many friends as she can. She is very smart and often decides to plan out what she says or does. She very dense when it comes to people flirting with her and it usually takes about 5 dates to realize that she dating someone. She can also be very polite and courteous or be very reckless when she needs to be. She often is very insecure about herself and avoids letting people know about herself.
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): Already on it!
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Forcing roleplay on other players, dictating how their characters respond to your actions, including the outcome of actions of yours targeting them.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Using out of character knowledge to affect how you behave in-character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Playing the part of a character in a fictional world, alongside others doing the same, to cooperatively tell a story.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the other player involves agrees to let their character die, including when the other character is in a situation where it is not feasible for them to survive.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: In the OOC chat, private messages, or speaking in parentheses in local.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I’ve been part of the Silvergaming community for many years, dating back all the way to Silver Age, then Book of Halegron, Shrines of the Ancients, The Anerian Chronicles, and The Wayward Ones. Additionally I’ve been on Lord of the Craft and a couple other minecraft RP servers I’ve since forgotten about. I also have been running and playing tabletop roleplaying games since before I could operate a computer.
Character Information
Name: Turl
Age: 37
Race: Savage
Physical description: Turl is old and has a subdued presence, though he is physically a bit large. Like all savages, he is not terribly pleasant to the eye, having a strange mismatched appearance, somehow both large and small. At the same time, he has an air of dignity and wisdom about him, gained over many long years of life. He most commonly has a sad, wistful expression on his aged face.
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
So you want my story, do you? Well, in that case, you’re probably going to want to take a seat, lad. It’s a long story. One second, I’ll go set some tea brewing.
--
My story begins in the land of Horizon, or the Forlorn lands as some call it. I was born to one of the smaller tribes, one of those that had to constantly fight for the simple right to survive. Due to the oppression the Confederation brought down on our people, we were raised being told to hate them and their ways. Similarly, the other tribes all held false beliefs, all were our enemies. So my people fought and killed both those that looked like us and those that did not. All I remember from my early years was bloodshed, death and chaos. We had a different chieftain every few months, from the previous one being overthrown.
All through this time of war, I felt like I was in the wrong place, that there was something I was missing. None of it ever made sense to me. Killing, war, hate. Why? Why would you do that to another person? Still, they put a club in my hand, and told me to kill. Young, impressionable and confused, I did. I waded into my first battle and killed. Only one, I wasn’t very good, but I did kill. I looked my fellow Orc in the eyes as I watched the light of life leave them. I vomited on the spot, disgusted by what I had done. This deed was of course witnessed by the others of my tribe. I was exiled, for being weak.
So I spent several years aimlessly wandering the plains, scrounging off of what little food I could find, mostly small herbs and berries. As a savage, I was a failure. I either couldn’t or wouldn’t fight – I’m still not sure which it was – and I simply lacked the emotion of hate that seemed to fuel the rest of my people.
In my wanderings, I came across another of my people, an elderly female Orc by the name of Urva. At the time I had been walking for days and had little luck finding food in the middle of the winter. She bade me stay with her, at least until the snow melted. So I did, and so we spoke of many things. We found we had many things in common, including a wish to see the end of the fighting. So she decided to pass on to me what she knew, the ways of the world, and the ancient rites that had been passed down through generations to her, and now to me.
The snow melted, I thanked her, and took my leave. I made my way back to my tribe, now armed with the power of magic, hoping to persuade them there could be a better way. I was met at the gate, and turned away. They would not speak with me, would not let me in. I was now an Other, and enemy. If I did not leave, I would be killed. So I left.
Having decided my own people would not listen, I continued my journey. I went from tribe to tribe, trying to speak to them, and one by one they turned me aside, too deeply entrenched in their traditions of distrusting outsiders and members of other tribes. No one would listen. I had found some modicum of power, but without an ear to listen to me, I had no real power at all.
So I continued travelling, and at last arrived at the tribe that cooperated with the Confederation, that hated others a little less. I joined them, for a time, tried to help improve things for us Orcs. There was little one such as me could do to sway the entirety of the Confederation in their ways, however, and the tribe was simply trying to get by. So a few years later, I moved on. I decided I had to travel further. So I spent years travelling the world, pondering the way of things, slowly refining my understanding of the Words I had been taught.
At last I heard of the plight of Enris, and of the coming effort to push back and attempt to reclaim the lands that had been lost. Seeing an opportunity to make real change, I paid a small vessel to ferry me to the city of Thaeron.
So you ask me what I hope to accomplish here? I hope to make things right, if only in small ways. We should work together towards our common goals, not fight and kill each other. I hope to advise others, to help them avoid the mistakes I’ve seen repeated over and over, in all lands.
Oh, your cup is empty. I’ll go make some more tea.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To teach others to avoid the mistakes he’s witnessed, to build a more peaceful, more prosperous future.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Turl is wise and level-headed. He is slow to anger if he can be angered at all
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Turl is physically old and frail. Additionally, he is pacifistic to a fault, refusing to enter a physical altercation unless absolutely necessary. Even then, he’ll only fight until one party can leave and combat can be ended.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): Turl is kind and slow to anger. He enjoys good conversation and thorough thinking-through of problems. He's at once cynical, having seen the flaws of the races all over the world, and hopeful that the future can be better.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Savage
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
Keyword - 2
Quora – 1
Jaxil – 1
Vived – 1
Exlor – 1
Master Enchanter – 2
(Note: As the starting magic-user, I’ll be utilizing my maximum of 8 points)
Renee, I'd like to review your app, but you need to provide a link to an image of your skin, first. I'd rather not defer you straight-away for just that reason alone.
Accepted:
welknair7: What can I really say, Quelk? Great app, great character, and I can't wait to see Turl in-game.
Deferred:
Slime_Warrior_: I liked most of the app, but there were a few discrepancies that I think we should sort out before I accept you. First off, while you said that Orianna learned how to wield her mother's blade, the trait you picked, Simple Weapons Proficiency, only allows you to wield Maces, Quarterstaves, and Daggers. While you can certainly attempt to wield the blade in RP, if you ever try and use it in PvP or PvE, it will only do punching damage.
After that, the only real problems that there are is that it seems a bit strange to me that you would so emphasize Orianna's outgoing nature, yet then say that she's insecure and prevents people from knowing about her. She also seems a little light, weakness-wise, however, I'll leave it up to you if you want to fill out or change those sections some more.
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): Nope, I’m good.
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes I have.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Power-gaming/Power-emoting is when a player forces a scenario onto another without letting them influence the outcome. e.g.Player X punches Player Y’s face and shatters all his teeth.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Meta-gaming would be using information a character would not have or know, gained through Out Of Character interactions.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Performing the role of a persona/character.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When given permission by said player(could be by verbal or RP reactions).
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: Any time? Within the boundaries of the OOC channel and double parentheses, ((ex)).
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I have played Half-Life 2 RP on Gary’s Mod, and a few on MC.
Character Information
Name: Tyae D’Arl
Age: 25
Race: Alanni Human
Physical description: Tyae has the tanned skin, grey eyes, and dark hair of her fellow Alanni. She wears a modified desert robe for the change in climate and a blue halfskirt. Her left arm is somewhat scarred due to her favoring it when she tinkers with machines. She wears a simple clothe bracelet given to her by her family when she left to study in Arturan. Her hair is fairly unruly, so she tries to keep it in a pony tail.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Tyae D’Arl was born in Alann to a family of five siblings in a coastal town on the southern coast. Due to the close proximity to the Bheille border, and the nation’s doctrine of universal conscription, Tyae was taught the life of soldiering as part of her earlier education. However, instead of sparring and playing with her classmates, she would rather sit off to the side and read one of the books from the school’s library. This showed signs of an affinity towards Saviesa, which was an oddity in the militarized society. Although the school’s teachers were delighted by this, her parents were not. Her family had a strong tradition of soldiering, either being devout followers of either Rhyfel or Thaer, and this break in tradition greatly upset them. Although disappointed, her parents did not want her to be conscripted, as it would surely lead to her death. For this reason, they sent her off to Arturan when she turned 12, where priests of Saviesa took her under their wing and allowed her to study at the Arturan University. This was rather fortunate timing, as the Bheille would invade Southern Alann later that month.
She studied among the elves and other students, learning math, history, rhetoric, philosophy, and engineering. The elven students gave the foreign students a hard time, and although she encountered this prejudice, she continued her studies with the friendship from the other students. Instead of becoming competitive with her elven classmates, as most of her other classmates did, she went inward, simply ignoring them. It was during this time that she developed a relatively personal connection with Saviesa, as she “talked” to her every day.
When the Bheille invasion was finally thwarted by the troops from Black Rock, Tyae learned that one of her sisters died. At first, Tyae directed all of her hatred towards the Bheille, but after learning from her brother that it was a miscalculation from the Confederation’s magic users, she grew to despise its unpredictability. Oddly enough, however, she became fascinated by the Bheillic war machines when one was sent to the Arturan University for study. She constantly examined it, hours on end, captivated by its complexity. After a few weeks, she even tried to replicate it using materials from the Confederation. However, it seemed that the Confederation’s techniques were not advanced enough to replicate the Bheillic parts, and so she instead focused her research toward improving the Confederation’s tools and techniques.
However, this interest with the Bheille did not go well with...everyone really. On a trip back to Alann, her father confronted her about it, claiming that she was forsaking family and country. Tyae lashed back, reminding him that it was magic that killed her sister, not machines. The argument continued until both sides left, fuming. This was the first time that her father had ever yelled at her, even before she left for Arturan. She wanted to immediately apologize, but her father would not even see her. Her mother and her siblings understood her reasoning, but advised her from openly expressing those beliefs to others. However, they also pointed out that her research might be better received farther away from Bheille. She agreed to this and set sail for Enris, the farthest from Bheille and the home of Saviesa’s holy site. Truly with this combination, she would successfully advance the Confederation.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To research and improve upon the various Confederation tools and engineering techniques. As a follower of Saviesa, she is conflicted by seeing knowledge as either an intrinsic good, or an instrumental good. When she solves this problem, she will pursue it; either gaining knowledge for the sake of it, or for use.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Focused, Loyalty to Family, Curious.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Incredibly aloof, Gullible(quick to believe new things), Prone to extremes in mood, Conflicted, Pro-Bheille/Anti-Magic sentiments, Scatter-brained.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): An oddity to other Alanni(never fought in combat), she lacks the stoic attitude one gains through constant combat. Instead, she possesses what other Alanni call, “a childish curiosity for things”. As such, when talking to veteran Alanni, they tend to see her more as a child, despite her age.
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yup.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Powergaming is roleplaying in a way that doesn't give other people a chance to react, including it might be COMPLETELY unrealistic.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Using OOC info to your advantage IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Playing the role of another character, reacting to events or circumstances as the character would. Hence the name "roleplay".
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: People who have a deathwish
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the owner of the character gives you permission/if the character is endangering yours.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: In the OOC chat or when using brackets such as ((Enris is an anagram for “risen”; coincidence? I think NOT!))
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): Yes. Yes I do. Please don’t make me write a list of all the RP I’ve done in my lifetime.
Character Information
Name: Meriel Elora
Age: 43
Race: Elves
Physical description: Meriel stands at 6’4” with a slightly pudgy weight alongside a broad build. She has dark brown hair that goes down to her chin. Meriel has a button nose sprinkled with freckles. Her round head and brown eyes look almost nothing like her sister, Allenia. She wears brown overalls over a tattered down shirt made out of a potato sack. Her pale skin is littered with scars and burn marks.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Meriel was brought up by a welcoming family. Her older sister, Allania, was usually the one to care for Meriel. Being the youngest was easy for Meriel, because there were little to no responsibilities. Meriel enjoyed being outside by herself, mostly because she didn’t have many friends as a child. Meriel taught herself how to wrestle pigs and make the perfect mud pie. She loved to get herself all dirty and muddy so she can make little pathways throughout the house. Eventually Allania would have to prepare a bath for little Meriel. Life couldn’t have been simpler.
On the other hand, Meriel never learned to read and write. Meriel became too busy focusing on the farm life rather than any fancy academic hoo-hah. Allania would instead read and write for her. There was no need to learn. There was farmwork to be done. Farmwork was the only thing Meriel ever actually worried about. What did she expect?
It was the middle of the night when Meriel heard a noise downstairs. It sounded like someone was talking to themselves. Terrified, Meriel quickly pitter-pattered to Allania’s bed for help. Shaking her, Meriel woke Allenia up, and began to tug on Allania’s nightgown to get her to follow her.
Meriel slowly followed behind her older sibling. She trembled in her small slippers as she watched her older sister aim her bow at the darkness. Meriel was told to stay at the top of the steps. She did so. Meriel carefully whispered down the steps for Allie, just to see if she was still there. Suddenly, the small elf heard screaming. This startled her, causing her to rush back to her room in fear. Meriel slammed and barricaded the door with her rocking chair. Swiftly she retreated underneath her bed to hide. The screaming eventually morphed into crying, and Meriel remained frightened and silent. Eventually she fell asleep underneath the bed once the crying seemed to die down.
The next morning Meriel walked down to the dining room to find her mother and her older sister sitting at the table, absolutely distraught. After a long talk with the two, Meriel decided that if she were to help protect her family, she needed to get stronger. For months and years after she made sure to keep in tip-top shape for the farm and the safety of the house. Sometimes Meriel sparred with Allania. The bond between the two sisters grew stronger over time.
Eventually a new member, Orianna, joined the family, but Meriel didn’t take much time to pay much attention to that. It seemed to be that they were the new child of Allania. Slowly but surely, Meriel began to notice that her sister moved her attention to the new kid instead of her. Denying her jealousy, Meriel took the time to work even harder to get Allania’s attention once more. More training. More working. More farming.
Many years later, the family had to move out of Beshwall due to Savage infestation. Now they move towards Enris where it is said to be the safest place possible at the moment. New home. New future.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To help the world through feeding and protecting the innocent, as well to protect her own family from the dangers of the world.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Meriel is a very very buff girl, and is able to fist fight any bloke down the block. Being very outgoing and friendly, Mariel lives for joy. A good smile can go a long way for her. Having a very keen sense of hearing, Meriel loves to eavesdrop on unsuspecting saps at the tavern every once in a while. Meriel has very green thumb and can maintain a farm with ease.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Meriel unfortunately doesn’t know how to read or write and usually depends on other people to read to her or write for her. Meriel has a bad habit of eavesdropping as well as she’s very impulsive. Temper may sometimes get the best of her. She also has a lot of paranoia and may be quick to jump to conclusions.
Ahh, I remember you lads, itsa been awhile. Shrines of the Ancient is where I think I dappled in a bit with my old, shite of a PC. Too bad my computer was interfering greatly with the RP experience.
I'll be working on an app soon, glad to see you guys are still afloat and going strong after all these years. Really gives me hope for the Minecraft RP scene.
IGN:
Tankinator
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional):
Already there
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?:
Yep
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Powergaming is forcing RP upon others, or just doing things that your character should clearly be unable to do.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Metagaming is the usage of information gained OOC for your benefit IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Roleplay taking the role of a character and putting yourself in their shoes.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
Nobody
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When there is an IC reason to do so, and when the other player is all right with the decision.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
You may speak OOC when you use the OOC channel, or use double parenthesis (if you are in the IC channel)
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
I’ve been a part of the SG community since Silver Age, and I also do a great deal of Table Top Roleplaying, as well as other text Roleplaying.
Character Information
Name: Taggart
Age: 26
Race: Human (born in Mistland)
Physical description: Taggart is a taller man at 5’11’’, He has dark brown hair that is generally unkempt, but not dirty. He doesn’t wear a beard, as he’s never been able to grow one. He is well muscled from years of mercenary work. He’s got scars and scrapes all over his body as souvenirs from many fights. He’s taken great care to make sure none of them mar his face though.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Brandon dubiously opened the door to the tavern. He was in one of the seedier parts of town and wasn’t sure what to expect. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked inside. Soon after stepping inside, the man wrinkled his nose in disgust. The tavern smelled of stale beer and unwashed men. This was definitely somewhere he didn’t want to be. The patrons were mostly drunk and noisy, filling the building with raucous laughter. A few of the tavern-goes stared curiously at the newcomer. No doubt wondering how much money he had in his purse no doubt.
Brandon closed the door behind him and moved into the smoke-filled taproom and covered his nose and mouth with a cloth. He looked around for the man he was sent to meet. He was a mercenary, and from what he’d heard a rather good one. And not too expensive. As he scanned the room he saw a man in the corner stand up and wave him over. That’d probably be him.
“I’ve come from my lord about the job proposition.” Brandon said, taking a seat in front of the mercenary. He was a taller fellow, with dark hair and a stupid grin. “Are you Taggart?”
Taggart nodded and took a long drink from his flagon. He set it down after what seemed like two minutes and belched loudly. “Sorry bout that pal. You know how it is with ale. Delicious stuff, but hard to keep down. So, you’re the one from Lord whatshisname?” he said flippantly, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.
“Yes, I’m here from Lord Ka-“
“Oh!” Taggart interrupted. “I got you a drink too buddy! Here.” He slid he flagon across the table to Brandon.
“Yes. . .” Brandon said slowly, nudging the drink away from him tentatively. “Drinks aside, I think we have use of someone with your skills.”
“Which ones? I can do lots of fun things. I can stab, I can shoot a bow, I can climb things, I can break windows, I can break bones. I have also been known to do a nice jig on occasion. That costs extra though.”
Brandon sighed. He hated dealing with Mistlanders. Dumb country hicks. Every one of them. But this fellow raised a few questions. “How did you manage to learn all of that?”
“Well, the jigs aren’t hard. Just get everyone drunk enough and it’ll seem like you’re doing the right moves.”
“No,” Brandon said exasperated. “I meant the other things.”
“Oh, those, well, when I was a boy I lived in Mistland. You can learn lots of fun tricks down there. Like how to catch three frogs with one fish and a glass bottle. But that’s beside the point. I’ve only found three times to use that. Anyway, I lived there until I was about fifteen years old. Learned to hunt and fight with me pop. Learned to climb trees of my own volition. I left home after my parents died. Mum died of sickness. Goat kicked my pop in the face.”
“Oh. I’m sorr-“
“Then, I went to Rinion.” Taggart continued. “Couldn’t get a good job anywhere. Everyone thought I was a fool or something. So I lived on the street. Got real good at stealing and running. And stabbing and running. I was running a lot of the time. Then, I joined a band of mercenaries. Fun fellas they was. Not a bad source of income either. After a few jobs though, I decided to strike out on my own. But enough about me. What’s the job pal?”
“Right, thanks for that little story by the way. So, my lord wants you to kill a rival of his. He’s tried to best him through political intrigue, but it seems that he’s failed. So, he’d like you to and your men to kill him.”
Taggart smiled widely. “This is why I like Forezzie. You noble folk are always ready to stick a knife in someone’s ribs. Keeps the little folk like me in work! I mean, your dainty little fingers could hardly hold a dagger I’ll wager!”
Brandon grimaced and grumbled quietly. “What do you say?”
“Well, I need to know a few things first? Like are there gonna be dogs? What about kittens? I don’t kill puppies and kittens. I’m not gonna off this fella’s family either. And can I keep whatever loot I find?”
“There’ll just be some guards. No animals. You just need to kill one person. And please don’t rob anyone. Just murder. Do you understand? I have instructions if you need them.” Then he said under his breath, “not that you could read them anyway.”
“That’d be lovely! And I’ll take half of the payment now if you please.” Taggart said holding out his hand expectantly.
Brandon placed a folded piece of parchment and a coin-purse in Taggart’s hand. “If that’s it I think I’ll go.” He said as Taggart looked over the paper. It was upside down.
“That’ll be all mister. Go back to Lord Whatshisname and tell him his friend will be dead and he’ll be the king of all Forezzie by the end of the week!” Taggart called after Braden as he was leaving. “Pretentious little snot.” He said to nobody in particular, looking over the instructions, now right side up.
Sometime later, Taggart was talking with his three friends. They were going to be his crew on this mission. There was Melvin, Stuart, and Raike.
“So, Melvin and Stuart will go in here,” Taggart said pointing at the map provided by Raike. “And I’ll go in through here. Raike will stay and guard here.”
“I’m still not sure about this Taggart.” Melvin said nervously. “We’ve killed people before, and it wasn’t exactly hard. But this is a Lord! Not some merchant or bandit gang.”
“Yes, but the pay is nice Melvin.” Taggart said matter-of-factly.
“Right, that’s all well and nice Taggart, but why should we do this? We can get just as much money by robbing a fat merchant.” Stuart observed.
“That’s true Stuart. But, imagine it. Us, king-slayers! Bringers of destiny! We shall change the world!” Taggart was standing now holding a clenched fist high above his head.
Raike sighed. “I can’t stand it when you do this whole,” he gestured vaguely at Taggart. “Dramatic thing.”
Taggart scoffed and sat down. “The heroes from stories and songs are dramatic. But anyway, are we gonna do this or not?”
The other men muttered their assent and Taggart smiled happily.
Taggart nudged open the door to the castle kitchen quietly. He snuck through the room carefully, walking on the balls of his feet, his soft-soled boots making little noise on the stone floor. Taggart moved towards the door at the other end of the room, stopping only to grab a loaf of bread someone had left out. If all was going right, Melvin and Stuart should already be inside.
Taggart left the kitchen and crept down the corridors, looking for the stairs. The Lord’s room would certainly be near the top. He just had to figure out where. As he walked down the hall, he heard shouting coming from the courtyard. Something had gone wrong. Taggart was about to dash down the stairs when he heard metal-shod feet tramping his way. They couldn’t be that hard to dispatch, it sounded like there couldn’t be more than 3 of them. Taggart shook his head. He didn’t want to kill more people than he had to tonight. He was in a good mood, and didn’t want to ruin the evening for more people than necessary. He opened the nearest door and stepped inside.
The inhabitants of the room were awake and shouted with surprise when Taggart stepped inside. Taggart quickly moved a nearby chair under the door and looked at his new friends. It was clearly the man he was sent to kill and his wife. Judging by the gaudy decorations in the room. “Sorry about this sir.” Taggart said politely nodding his head.
“Who are you?” the lord said angrily. His clenched fists shaking.
“I’m Taggart. I’m a mercenary who was sent to kill you. It’s not personal mind you. A man’s gotta make a living after all.” Taggart shrugged. “I think something went wrong though, so I’m more concerned with leaving than defenestrating you.”
“What?”
“Defenestration. It’s throwing someone out of a window good sir. I thought that it would be a rather fun way to kill you. Less messy than sticking you with a sword, and you can tell all your friends what fun you had on your way down!”
Both the lord and his wife looked confused now. “Wh- who send you to kill us?” he asked uncertainly.
“Oh, some fellow with a grumpy messenger boy. Said you were a rival of his. Also said that he tried to beat you through good-ol-fashion politics. I could never get the hang of that stuff. I’m more of a fighter myself anyway. Just point me in the right direction.”
“You will die, you know that right?” the lord said, his voice cold as ice.
`“Well, now that’s something I’ve heard many times. But, not today. I’ve got a pressing engagement elsewhere.” Taggart said moving to the window. “Sorry for disturbing your rest m’lady.” He said nodding to the lord’s wife. “I’ll just leave this here though.” He said kindly putting his instructions on the floor. And with that, he climbed out the window and was gone.
It was sometime later when Taggart found Melvin in a back alley. His friend was bleeding from a large cut on his left arm and a stab wound to the stomach. “The guards were onto us Taggart. They knew we were coming.” He said seriously.
“Did they get Stuart?” Taggart inquired, looking very worried.
Melvin nodded. “A man with a halberd jumped out from around a corner and stabbed him in the chest. Then he took off his head.” Melvin sobbed. “Then a sneaky little guy got me in the stomach. I got both of them back though.” He said with steel in his voice. “Did you kill the guy?”
Taggart shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance.” He lied. “Stuart was a good friend. It’s sad to see him go. Have you seen Raike?”
Melvin opened his mouth to answer when there was a voice at the end of the alley. “There they are!” Several armed soldiers appeared in the narrow space began to file after them. Melvin started to run when he was struck with an arrow in the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth as he cried out. “Run!”
Taggart nodded and ran. He dashed through the streets and alleys, trying to throw off his pursuers. After an hour he had finally lost them. He leaned against a building, breathing heavily. After he had caught his breath, he realized he had no idea where he was. This city was big, and he was relatively new. He sighed and began climbing up the side of the building.
“Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve found the last one.” Raike said. “You led those soldiers on a merry little chase. You’re not going to escape me though.”
Taggart looked at him in shock. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean I’m going to kill you can collect a reward. It’s simple. I already helped kill the other guys. So I might as well finish the job.” Raike said calmly.
“You perfidious fiend!” Taggart shouted his hand going to his short-sword at his side.
“Where did you learn all of these words!?” Raike said equally loud, becoming very angry. “Where did a Mistland hick like you learn to read!?”
Taggart grimaced and moved his hand away from his sword and started to draw his bow. “I snuck into some classes while I was in Rinion. Learned lots of things. I just play the fool sometimes. Now why did you betray us?” He growled angrily.
“The pay was very good. Better than the pay for killing him. So after we finished planning I went and talked to your target. He was very accommodating. Not like I cared about you anyway. You’re just another lost Mistlander. Far from home, with no family. Nobody would care if you died anyway. And, to top it all off you’re a killer. I’d be doing a service.”
“I don’t just kill Raike,” Taggart said trying to hold back his rage. “I steal and rob and loot and beat.” Taggart said flashing a quick grin. But I also protect, and guard, and help. I do what I’m paid to do.”
“How can you be so annoying at a time like this?” Raike demanded. “I’m about to kill you, and you have the nerve to crack a joke and act like a dramatic hero.”
“Oh, it’s easy you just do this. “ Taggart quickly nocked an arrow and fired it at Raike. The arrow struck the surprised man in the thigh and he cried out in pain. Taggart quickly nocked another arrow and fired, hitting his former comrade in the chest. Raike fell to the down and lay silent.
Taggart walked over to his opponent and nudged him with his foot. Raike made a quiet gurgling sound as blood welled up in his mouth and leaked out of his chest, running down the roof onto the ground below. “That settles that I suppose.” Taggart looked at the sleeping city’s skyline and got his bearings. Satisfied that he’d found his way back to the tavern, Taggart climbed down the wall to the street and walked back in the now quiet night. Devoid of all sound except Taggart’s quiet footsteps and the blood dripping off the rooftop.
Taggart had hardly made it a block away from where he had killed Raike before he was attacked. Two soldiers turned around a corner and saw him. Normally, that wouldn’t have been an issue, but these two had probably been chasing Taggart before, since were now running him with their weapons drawn.
Taggart swore angrily and drew his short-sword. The first soldier reached Taggart and swung at his neck with a sword. Taggart ducked underneath the attack and thrust at his attacker. The man cried out in pain and stepped back, holding a hand to his chest, right beneath the ribcage. The second man came at Taggart with a spear.
The soldier thrust forward and Taggart dodged away from the attack. Taggart stepped forward and tried to slash at the man’s throat, but he jumped back, and started to circle around Taggart, his spear held at the ready. The other soldier returned to the fray, wielding his sword with his free arm. His other arm still held to his wound.
Taggart parried the attack and struck back, his sword sliding between the man’s ribs and passing through his heart. The soldier stiffened and slide off of the blade, as Taggart turned to face the other solider. That turn saved his life. The man had thrust forward with a shout of rage and hit Taggart in the side. Had he not turned the thrust would’ve killed him.
Taggart grunted in pain and threw his sword at the remaining soldier. The blade buried itself in the man’s shoulder. He stepped back and tried to remove the weapon lodged in him. Taggart took this opportunity to remove the spear in his side. He groaned as the blade left him, blood spurting from his wound. Great, another scar. Taggart turned the spear around and reversed his grip. He lifted the weapon into the air and threw the spear like a javelin. It wasn’t a strong throw, but he was close, and the spearhead burrowed into the soldier, throwing him back onto the ground.
Taggart weakly retrieved his sword and heard shouting down the street. He quickly ducked into an alley, his vision hazy. He had to get to a healer and fast. It seemed like an eternity before he found someone he could trust. He limped through the door and called out. Then he promptly blacked out.
He woke several hours later. His wound had been cleaned and bandaged. The doctor wasn’t there right now, but that would change. He had to get out of this city though. Taggart knew there would be guards after him. Taggart looked for his clothes and got dressed, wincing in pain. His clothes had been cleaned and mended. He took his coin-purse and put a good amount of money on a table, collected his things, and left.
He had to go somewhere, but where? There was very few places he could go where they wouldn’t try to catch or kill him. St. Jessica? No, too religious. They wouldn’t like him there. Alann? He’d probably stab some elves as soon as he crossed the border. That wouldn’t do. Nobody wanted a Mistlander. Enris! That was it. Nobody in their right mind would go there. The resurgence of undead would be enough to keep people away. People would probably like his skills there too. Maybe he could get payed to help people for the first time in years.
Taggart made his way to the docks. He would be able to stow away on a ship bound for Enris. He knew someone would help him escape. A few days later, Taggart was riding in the cargo hold of a merchant vessel. The gentle sway of the ship as it made its way west making him sick. Taggart thought of his friends and their betrayal. He choked back tears and held his side. This won’t do. He was a warrior. A tough man. A tough man shouldn’t cry like this. It was unbecoming. The last time he cried was as a boy. He was older now. He was a man now. He was a warrior now.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation):
Taggart’s main goal is to survive and make a living. He mostly wants to help people, but he will do what he’s paid to do, sometimes.
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
Taggart is a warrior. He knows how to fight with a few different kinds of weapons, but his favorites are short-swords and Bows. He can also climb well, and run very fast. He tries to look on the bright side of everything, and tries to find a little joy in everything. He also tries to be as helpful to people as possible. Assuming they don’t get on his bad-side.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.):
Taggart is not a very diplomatic person. He can be very blunt, which often leads him into trouble. He’s also very foolhardy, and has a difficult time taking some situations seriously. He is allergic to sea-food. And he is afraid of goats. He also has a bad temper, especially when people bring up his Mistland heritage (Only when used in the negative, otherwise he’s very proud about it). He also can’t stand people that treat him like dirt because of his social status. He often contradicts himself
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Taggart tries to look at the bright side of life. He feels that if you are going to die one day, might as well make what time you have left a little fun. Because of this, he tries to crack jokes whenever her can. Sometimes at the expense of others, or himself. His humor can at times be misinterpreted as arrogance at times, but he doesn’t care. Taggart can be open and friendly to strangers, but he feels that first impressions are very important, and will judge people based off of that. Taggart is very confident in his abilities and won’t shirk from a fight. But despite this, he has a sensitive side, that he is very reluctant to show anyone. Taggart also abides by a strict code of honor that only he seems to know.
Bonus Language (Caro is free):
Mistland.
Character Traits
Simple Weapons: 1
Martial Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 1
Light armor: 1
Acrobat: 1
Climber: 1
Cross-country Runner: 1
Total : 7
Human Bonus Trait: Roll
Great to see you Tunatic! I remember you!
Accepted: dedoralive
This is a good Drow Character. Welcome back, and see you on August 15!
Accepted:[/b] Hweatley.
An excellent app, great job as always!
Deferred
Tankinator:
This is a very detailed app, I'll give you that. Your character just seems a bit too overpowered. For example, he throws both a sword and javelin with enough force to kill two seperate, armed, armored guards while badly injured. That's just something that will probably not fly in RP. Also, his weaknesses don't really feel like they're all that weak, per se. I mean, he's afraid of goats but there are no goats in Minecraft, and he gets mad when people insult his culture. The latter is understandable, but more like a natural reaction that most people would have. Contradicting himself too seems more like a trait than an actual weakness, and if he's allergic to seafood that seems like something that's easy enough to avoid partaking in without much of an impact on his life. Maybe make him actually unintelligent, or less strong than he currently is; he just needs something to make him less perfect. Just tone down how strong he is and introduce some more potent flaws and you should be good. Good luck!
Woo 2nd Try!
IGN:
Tankinator
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional):
Already there
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?:
Yep
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Powergaming is forcing RP upon others, or just doing things that your character should clearly be unable to do.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Metagaming is the usage of information gained OOC for your benefit IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Roleplay taking the role of a character and putting yourself in their shoes.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
Nobody
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When there is an IC reason to do so, and when the other player is all right with the decision.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
You may speak OOC when you use the OOC channel, or use double parenthesis (if you are in the IC channel)
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
I’ve been a part of the SG community since Silver Age, and I also do a great deal of Table Top Roleplaying, as well as other text Roleplaying.
Character Information
Name: Taggart
Age: 26
Race: Human (born in Mistland)
Physical description: Taggart is a taller man at 5’11’’, He has dark brown hair that is generally unkempt, but not dirty. He doesn’t wear a beard, as he’s never been able to grow one. He is well muscled from years of mercenary work. He’s got scars and scrapes all over his body as souvenirs from many fights. He’s taken great care to make sure none of them mar his face though.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Brandon dubiously opened the door to the tavern. He was in one of the seedier parts of town and wasn’t sure what to expect. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked inside. Soon after stepping inside, the man wrinkled his nose in disgust. The tavern smelled of stale beer and unwashed men. This was definitely somewhere he didn’t want to be. The patrons were mostly drunk and noisy, filling the building with raucous laughter. A few of the tavern-goes stared curiously at the newcomer. No doubt wondering how much money he had in his purse no doubt.
Brandon closed the door behind him and moved into the smoke-filled taproom and covered his nose and mouth with a cloth. He looked around for the man he was sent to meet. He was a mercenary, and from what he’d heard a rather good one. And not too expensive. As he scanned the room he saw a man in the corner stand up and wave him over. That’d probably be him.
“I’ve come from my lord about the job proposition.” Brandon said, taking a seat in front of the mercenary. He was a taller fellow, with dark hair and a stupid grin. “Are you Taggart?”
Taggart nodded and took a long drink from his flagon. He set it down after what seemed like two minutes and belched loudly. “Sorry bout that pal. You know how it is with ale. Delicious stuff, but hard to keep down. So, you’re the one from Lord whatshisname?” he said flippantly, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.
“Yes, I’m here from Lord Ka-“
“Oh!” Taggart interrupted. “I got you a drink too buddy! Here.” He slid he flagon across the table to Brandon.
“Yes. . .” Brandon said slowly, nudging the drink away from him tentatively. “Drinks aside, I think we have use of someone with your skills.”
“Which ones? I can do lots of fun things. I can stab, I can shoot a bow, I can climb things, I can break windows, I can break bones. I have also been known to do a nice jig on occasion. That costs extra though.”
Brandon sighed. He hated dealing with Mistlanders. Dumb country hicks. Every one of them. But this fellow raised a few questions. “How did you manage to learn all of that?”
“Well, the jigs aren’t hard. Just get everyone drunk enough and it’ll seem like you’re doing the right moves.”
“No,” Brandon said exasperated. “I meant the other things.”
“Oh, those, well, when I was a boy I lived in Mistland. You can learn lots of fun tricks down there. Like how to catch three frogs with one fish and a glass bottle. But that’s beside the point. I’ve only found three times to use that. Anyway, I lived there until I was about fifteen years old. Learned to hunt and fight with me pop. Learned to climb trees of my own volition. I left home after my parents died. Mum died of sickness. Cow kicked my pop in the face.”
“Oh. I’m sorr-“
“Then, I went to Rinion.” Taggart continued. “Couldn’t get a good job anywhere. Everyone thought I was a fool or something. So I lived on the street. Got real good at stealing and running. And stabbing and running. I was running a lot of the time. Then, I joined a band of mercenaries. Fun fellas they was. Not a bad source of income either. After a few jobs though, I decided to strike out on my own. But enough about me. What’s the job pal?”
“Right, thanks for that little story by the way. So, my lord wants you to kill a rival of his. He’s tried to best him through political intrigue, but it seems that he’s failed. So, he’d like you to and your men to kill him.”
Taggart smiled widely. “This is why I like Forezzie. You noble folk are always ready to stick a knife in someone’s ribs. Keeps the little folk like me in work! I mean, your dainty little fingers could hardly hold a dagger I’ll wager!”
Brandon grimaced and grumbled quietly. “What do you say?”
“Well, I need to know a few things first? Like are there gonna be dogs? What about kittens? I don’t kill puppies and kittens. I’m not gonna off this fella’s family either. And can I keep whatever loot I find?”
“There’ll just be some guards. No animals. You just need to kill one person. And please don’t rob anyone. Just murder. Do you understand? I have instructions if you need them.” Then he said under his breath, “not that you could read them anyway.”
“That’d be lovely! And I’ll take half of the payment now if you please.” Taggart said holding out his hand expectantly.
Brandon placed a folded piece of parchment and a coin-purse in Taggart’s hand. “If that’s it I think I’ll go.” He said as Taggart looked over the paper. It was upside down.
“That’ll be all mister. Go back to Lord Whatshisname and tell him his friend will be dead and he’ll be the king of all Forezzie by the end of the week!” Taggart called after Braden as he was leaving. “Pretentious little snot.” He said to nobody in particular, looking over the instructions, now right side up.
Sometime later, Taggart was talking with his three friends. They were going to be his crew on this mission. There was Melvin, Stuart, and Raike.
“So, Melvin and Stuart will go in here,” Taggart said pointing at the map provided by Raike. “And I’ll go in through here. Raike will stay and guard here.”
“I’m still not sure about this Taggart.” Melvin said nervously. “We’ve killed people before, and it wasn’t exactly hard. But this is a Lord! Not some merchant or bandit gang.”
“Yes, but the pay is nice Melvin.” Taggart said matter-of-factly.
“Right, that’s all well and nice Taggart, but why should we do this? We can get just as much money by robbing a fat merchant.” Stuart observed.
“That’s true Stuart. But, imagine it. Us, king-slayers! Bringers of destiny! We shall change the world!” Taggart was standing now holding a clenched fist high above his head.
Raike sighed. “I can’t stand it when you do this whole,” he gestured vaguely at Taggart. “Dramatic thing.”
Taggart scoffed and sat down. “The heroes from stories and songs are dramatic. But anyway, are we gonna do this or not?”
The other men muttered their assent and Taggart smiled happily.
Taggart nudged open the door to the castle kitchen quietly. He snuck through the room carefully, walking on the balls of his feet, his soft-soled boots making little noise on the stone floor. Taggart moved towards the door at the other end of the room, stopping only to grab a loaf of bread someone had left out. If all was going right, Melvin and Stuart should already be inside.
Taggart left the kitchen and crept down the corridors, looking for the stairs. The Lord’s room would certainly be near the top. He just had to figure out where. As he walked down the hall, he heard shouting coming from the courtyard. Something had gone wrong. Taggart was about to dash down the stairs when he heard metal-shod feet tramping his way. They couldn’t be that hard to dispatch, it sounded like there couldn’t be more than 3 of them. Taggart shook his head. He didn’t want to kill more people than he had to tonight. He was in a good mood, and didn’t want to ruin the evening for more people than necessary. He opened the nearest door and stepped inside.
The inhabitants of the room were awake and shouted with surprise when Taggart stepped inside. Taggart quickly moved a nearby chair under the door and looked at his new friends. It was clearly the man he was sent to kill and his wife. Judging by the gaudy decorations in the room. “Sorry about that sir.” Taggart said politely nodding his head.
“Who are you?” the lord said angrily. His clenched fists shaking.
“I’m Taggart. I’m a mercenary who was sent to kill you. It’s not personal mind you. A man’s gotta make a living after all.” Taggart shrugged. “I think something went wrong though, so I’m more concerned with leaving than defenestrating you.”
“What?”
“Defenestration. It’s throwing someone out of a window good sir. I thought that it would be a rather fun way to kill you. Less messy than sticking you with a sword, and you can tell all your friends what fun you had on your way down!”
Both the lord and his wife looked confused now. “Wh- who send you to kill us?” he asked uncertainly.
“Oh, some fellow with a grumpy messenger boy. Said you were a rival of his. Also said that he tried to beat you through good-ol-fashion politics. I could never get the hang of that stuff. I’m more of a fighter myself anyway. Just point me in the right direction.”
“You will die, you know that right?” the lord said, his voice cold as ice.
`“Well, now that’s something I’ve heard many times. But, not today. I’ve got a pressing engagement elsewhere.” Taggart said moving to the window. “Sorry for disturbing your rest m’lady.” He said nodding to the lord’s wife. “I’ll just leave this here though.” He said kindly putting his instructions on the floor. And with that, he climbed out the window and was gone.
It was sometime later when Taggart found Melvin in a back alley. His friend was bleeding from a large cut on his left arm and a stab wound to the stomach. “The guards were onto us Taggart. They knew we were coming.” He said seriously.
“Did they get Stuart?” Taggart inquired, looking very worried.
Melvin nodded. “A man with a halberd jumped out from around a corner and stabbed him in the chest. Then he took off his head.” Melvin sobbed. “Then a sneaky little guy got me in the stomach. I got both of them back though.” He said with steel in his voice. “Did you kill the guy?”
Taggart shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance.” He lied. “Stuart was a good friend. It’s sad to see him go. Have you seen Raike?”
Melvin opened his mouth to answer when there was a voice at the end of the alley. “There they are!” Several armed soldiers appeared in the narrow space began to file after them. Melvin started to run when he was struck with an arrow in the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth as he cried out. “Run!”
Taggart nodded and ran. He dashed through the streets and alleys, trying to throw off his pursuers. After an hour he had finally lost them. He leaned against a building, breathing heavily. After he had caught his breath, he realized he had no idea where he was. This city was big, and he was relatively new. He sighed and began climbing up the side of the building.
“Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve found the last one.” Raike said. “You led those soldiers on a merry little chase. You’re not going to escape me though.”
Taggart looked at him in shock. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean I’m going to kill you can collect a reward. It’s simple. I already helped kill the other guys. So I might as well finish the job.” Raike said calmly.
“You perfidious fiend!” Taggart shouted his hand going to his short-sword at his side.
“What?” Raike asked, lowering his sword slightly.
“It means you’re a traitorous scumbag.”
“Where did you learn all of these words!?” Raike screamed, becoming very angry. “Where did a Mistland hick like you learn to read!?”
Taggart grimaced and moved his hand away from his sword and started to draw his bow. “I snuck into some classes while I was in Rinion. Learned lots of things. I just play the fool sometimes. Now why did you betray us?” He growled angrily.
“The pay was very good. Better than the pay for killing him. So after we finished planning I went and talked to your target. He was very accommodating. Not like I cared about you anyway. You’re just another lost Mistlander. Far from home, with no family. Nobody would care if you died anyway. And, to top it all off you’re a killer. I’d be doing a service.”
“I don’t just kill Raike,” Taggart said trying to hold back his rage. “I steal and rob and loot and beat.” Taggart said flashing a quick grin. But I also protect, and guard, and help. I do what I’m paid to do.”
“How can you be so annoying at a time like this?” Raike demanded. “I’m about to kill you, and you have the nerve to crack a joke and act like a dramatic hero.”
“Oh, it’s easy you just do this. “ Taggart quickly nocked an arrow and fired it at Raike. The arrow struck the surprised man in the thigh and he cried out in pain. Taggart quickly nocked another arrow and fired, hitting his former comrade in the chest. Raike fell to the down and lay silent.
Taggart walked over to his opponent and nudged him with his foot. Raike made a quiet gurgling sound as blood welled up in his mouth and leaked out of his chest, running down the roof onto the ground below. “That settles that I suppose.” Taggart looked at the sleeping city’s skyline and got his bearings. Satisfied that he’d found his way back to the tavern, Taggart climbed down the wall to the street and walked back in the now quiet night. Devoid of all sound except Taggart’s quiet footsteps and the blood dripping off the rooftop.
Taggart had hardly made it a block away from where he had killed Raike before he was attacked. Two soldiers turned around a corner and saw him. Normally, that wouldn’t have been an issue, but these two had probably been chasing Taggart before, since were now running him with their weapons drawn.
Taggart swore angrily and drew his short-sword. The first soldier reached Taggart and swung at his neck with a sword. Taggart ducked underneath the attack and thrust at his attacker. The man cried out in pain and stepped back, holding a hand to his chest, right beneath the ribcage. The second man came at Taggart with a spear.
The soldier thrust forward and Taggart dodged away from the attack. Taggart stepped forward and tried to slash at the man’s throat, but he jumped back, and started to circle around Taggart, his spear held at the ready. The other soldier returned to the fray, wielding his sword with his free arm. His other arm still held to his wound.
Taggart parried the attack and struck back, his sword sliding between the man’s ribs and passing through his heart. The soldier stiffened and slide off of the blade, as Taggart turned to face the other solider. That turn saved his life. The man had thrust forward with a shout of rage and hit Taggart in the side. Had he not turned the thrust would’ve killed him.
Taggart grunted in pain and threw his sword at the remaining soldier. The blade buried itself in the man’s shoulder. He stepped back and tried to remove the weapon lodged in him. Taggart took this opportunity to remove the spear in his side. He groaned as the blade left him, blood spurting from his wound. Great, another scar. Taggart turned the spear around and reversed his grip. He lifted the weapon into the air and threw the spear like a javelin. It wasn’t a strong throw, and it wasn’t very accurate, and thus the spear grazed the soldier, scratching his armor.
The soldier removed the sword and tossed it aside, then retrieved the spear. Taggart looked at him in dismay and tried to run, swearing about losing his sword. Taggart wasn’t very fast, and it wasn’t hard for the soldier to catch him. Taggart stumbled on a loose stone on the road and fell over, unintentionally dodging the spear thrust that would’ve pierced his back. The soldier, expecting to hit something, was thrown off balance by his thrust. He too fell and he and Taggart lay on the road in a tangled mass.
The fight wasn’t an easy one for either party. The soldier’s shoulder hurt, and Taggart’s side was bleeding profusely. They rolled around for a bit, trying to strangle each other. The soldier managed to wrap his hands around Taggart’s throat, and began to squeeze.
Taggart tried in vain to punch the soldier off of him, gasping for breath. His punches did nothing, and he was starting to lose consciousness. He scrabbled at the soldier’s belt for a weapon. Anything would be good. His hand wrapped around the hilt of a dagger and he pulled it from it’s scabbard. He brought it up to the soldier’s neck and thrust several times, puncturing the side of his neck, and spraying blood everywhere.
The soldier feel limp and Taggart struggled to get out from under him. When he was free, he retrieved his sword and started to limp down the road. A doctor he knew lived close by. They would help him. As he lurched through the doorway, he called out for help and collapsed.
He woke several hours later. His wound had been cleaned and bandaged. The doctor wasn’t there right now, but that would change. He had to get out of this city though. Taggart knew there would be guards after him. Taggart looked for his clothes and got dressed, wincing in pain. His clothes had been cleaned and mended. He took his coin-purse and put a good amount of money on a table, collected his things, and left.
He had to go somewhere, but where? There was very few places he could go where they wouldn’t try to catch or kill him. St. Jessica? No, too religious. They wouldn’t like him there. Alann? He’d probably stab some elves as soon as he crossed the border. That wouldn’t do. Nobody wanted a Mistlander. Enris! That was it. Nobody in their right mind would go there. The resurgence of undead would be enough to keep people away. People would probably like his skills there too. Maybe he could get payed to help people for the first time in years.
Taggart made his way to the docks. He would be able to stow away on a ship bound for Enris. He knew someone would help him escape. A few days later, Taggart was riding in the cargo hold of a merchant vessel. The gentle sway of the ship as it made its way west making him sick. Taggart thought of his friends and their betrayal. He choked back tears and held his side. This won’t do. He was a warrior. A tough man. A tough man shouldn’t cry like this. It was unbecoming. The last time he cried was as a boy. He was older now. He was a man now. He was a warrior now.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation):
Taggart’s main goal is to survive and make a living. He mostly wants to help people, but he will do what he’s paid to do, sometimes.
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
Taggart is a warrior. He knows how to fight with a few different kinds of weapons, but his favorites are short-swords and Bows. He can also climb well, and run very fast. He tries to look on the bright side of everything, and tries to find a little joy in everything. He also tries to be as helpful to people as possible. Assuming they don’t get on his bad-side.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.):
Taggart is not a very diplomatic person. He can be very blunt, which often leads him into trouble. He’s also very foolhardy, and has a difficult time taking some situations seriously. He is allergic to sea-food. And he is afraid of cows.
He has a bad temper, especially when people bring up his Mistland heritage (Only when used in the negative, otherwise he’s very proud about it). He also can’t stand people that treat him like dirt because of his social status.
Taggart is also the victim of crippling stomach pains, due to an arrow wound. These pains have been known to bring him to his knees for sometimes hours on end. In addition to these stomach pains Taggart suffers from migraines, due to many hard blows to his head.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Taggart tries to look at the bright side of life. He feels that if you are going to die one day, might as well make what time you have left a little fun. Because of this, he tries to crack jokes whenever her can. Sometimes at the expense of others, or himself. His humor can at times be misinterpreted as arrogance at times, but he doesn’t care. Taggart can be open and friendly to strangers, but he feels that first impressions are very important, and will judge people based off of that. Taggart is very confident in his abilities and won’t shirk from a fight. But despite this, he has a sensitive side, that he is very reluctant to show anyone. Taggart also abides by a strict code of honor that only he seems to know. He often contradicts himself.
Bonus Language (Caro is free):
Mistland.
Character Traits
Simple Weapons: 1
Martial Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 1
Light armor: 1
Acrobat: 1
Climber: 1
Cross-country Runner: 1
Total : 7
Human Bonus Trait: Roll
FINISHED!
Out of Character Information
IGN: SilverFlonne
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): I'll PM
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yeap
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?:
Forcing an action on a player that is difficult/impossible to react to. Eg: Chops head off with one stroke
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?:
Using Out-of-context information while In Character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?:
Acting out a character based on assigned traits and characterisitcs
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:
God who is actually Olymp .... just kidding no one
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?:
When Bae wants some blood (Void)
When the party whose character is about to die consents
When are you allowed to speak out of character?:
OOC channel or use parentheses (( Hello I miss this server )) in roleplay chat
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional):
Hmm ... 3 years, the first year spent playing small roleplay servers which no longer exist with the names, MCDieval. The next two years I expanded my horizons and suddenly I found myself stuck in the tyranny of Bae's rule and could never leave the Silver Gaming servers such as Silver Age, Book of Halegron, Shrine of Ancients and The Wayward Ones. I only escaped the Anaerian Chronicles (( I cried for missing it, long live Jensen)).
Character Information
Name: Emelina Riyandare
Age: 24
Race: Human / Forezzie
Physical description:
Being rather tall for a woman, standing at a height of 5"6 and weighing 121 pounds. She has lustrous brown hair but it can not be seen too clearly as she wears a hood. Inheriting deep gray eyes from her father, it makes her look like she has a serious look on her face all the time. At the moment, she wears a blue cloak which she used to hide her appearance in the Crownsland but she would be willing to change to something more comfortable and fitting the moment she reaches Enris and finds suitable wear.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very
fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more
than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being
killed by bandits or the like):
((Welk killed my family, and so I escaped to Enris .... JK ))
The Riyandare family are just one of the many noble families in Forezzie fighting for power with other families. This family was not one of the higher, stronger and well-established families but instead, are one of the weaker ones competing against opponents of the same caliber. Thus in order to increase their strength, the Riyandare family would use any method at their disposable to increase the power base.
The third child of the family and the only daughter, Emelina was raised while being heavily influenced by the political instability of Forezzie and her two older brothers. The political instability of Forezzie had made it so that raising a daughter to be prim and proper like a noblelady was at the bottom of the priority list of the Riyandare's family head, Emelina's father. As such Emelina was given little attention and thus she felt invisible to her father, who would ever so rarely talk with her and so she wanted to gain his attention. That was when she was about eight years old. Unhappy that she had received little to no attention from her father, she began following him around the family keep, finding out the things he paid attention to the most. After almost a week, she noticed that he paid alot of attention to the training of the men of the castle, spending most of his time in the yard watching his people do their combat drills. With that, she assumed that her father liked to watch people who knows how to use weapons.
"Big brother, can Eme learn sword?"
Her two older brothers were enthusiastic with helping their little sister learn the ropes about combat and the usage of the sword. They taught her what their own instructors taught them which consisted of holding an imaginary sword from its right end, swinging a stick in correct motions and physical training such as running to build up her stamina and holding up her brothers' weighted wooden weapons to train her strength. A slow year passes by but at the end of it, she felt like it was worth it as one day in the middle of her training, her father talked to her.
"If you want to be better in the arts of warfare, this horsing around would get you no where."
He said, not looking at her while walking past her. However, following behind him was a slim young man who stopped before Emelina.
"Greetings young mistress, your father has paid me to teach you."
The man who would be her instructor for the years to come fought with a fighting style which he labelled to Emelina as "dueling" and people who practiced this arts were called duelists. Dueling consisted of fighting by hitting an opponent's weak points instead of a classical brawl of strength when two swords clash. The duelist wore minimal armor and relied mainly on instinct and agility to dodge their opponents blows. This however leaves them open to ranged attacks.
At the end of 7 years of training, Emelina had mastered what her instructor had taught her and at the end of it, she had finally earned her father's attention. However, the 7 years spent training had made degraded her social skills as she was a lone student and her training had occupied most of her time, giving her little time to go out and interact. Thus, her personality was affected. From the little hyperactive girl to become a silent,loyal warrior who would follow every command given to her as she had done in the past 7 years and rarely question the motives behind them.
"Sit with me. Tell me about your training."
It was like a dream come true when her father would occasionally call her out at the dinner table to ask about her progress. Even if he did not seem very interested, she was happy that he would finally face her and listen to her.
*********
"The border's just over there! Once we make it across they're stop chasing."
He shouted as he ran. Behind him, Emelina and her second brother was running as well and behind them, dust clouds could be seen as horsemen pursued after them.
"They're catching up!"
Her second brother shouted as the dust clouds moved closer and dark shadows representing the riders could be seen. The three picked up the pace and further ahead, they could see a forest.
"We're never going to make it! That's the XXX forest, we're still too far from the border."
The oldest brother cried out in despair and his pace slowed down. Emelina ran forward and slapped her brother on the back, urging him to go faster. They had made it to the forest but now the horsemen were only minutes away.
"It's all over. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more."
The oldest brother apologized, slumping against a tree. The second brother was patting the older sibling's shoulder, trying to calm him down. A short quiet moment passed for the three Riyandares, only interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats approaching closer. Emelina, making her decision, hugged both her brothers and they, while slightly confused returned the gesture.
"Go."
She told them as she drew her rapier, a thin sword suited for stabbing which fitted her style of combat. They both cried out in protest and immediately drew out their swords as well but then Emelina shouted.
"You're the two main successors to the family! Make us proud and my sacrifice not in vain."
They were both shaken by the fact that their little sister, who was normally quiet, shouted at them with such conviction. Nodding, tears in their eyes, they continued running into the forest towards the border to the Crownlands. Smiling as she watched the two escape, she faced the incoming horsemen.
Unable to ride their horses through the forest, the pursuers dismounted and led their horses through the forest. Emelina wanted to laugh when she saw it was just three men. Likely just outriders who were sent to keep tabs on them and not the main pursuing force which was likely five times larger. In the thick undergrowth she waited as the men followed the footprints which her brothers had left. Hidden behind a thick tree, the first men who was running forward was impaled in the neck by the thin sword and he died immediately. The other two men were shocked but quickly drew their weapons, ready to avenge their comrade. One of them ran forward, sword raised but the other was still trying to get his weapon from his horse. Emelina took note that the sword was a cheap short sword, a weapon she could easily parry and so as the man swung it down, she struck the tip of the blade, deflecting it and the man fell forward, off-balance from hitting air and as he tried to get up, the blade pierced his back.
'One more to go'
Emelina thought but as she tried to draw out the sword but she realized she had missed the man's heart and both his hands had reached behind, desperately holding the sword to prevent her from pulling it out. Panicked, she tried her best to pull it out but her strength could not beat a dying man's desperate strength and she eventually fell backwards, tripping over a tree root in the process.
"Go to hell, *****."
Were the dying man's words as his hand slowly slackened. His comrade roared in anger as he approached, holding a poleaxe which he finally managed to remove from his horse.
'I could outrun him.'
Emelina thought but as she stood up, pain surged through her leg. She had twisted it when she tripped over. The last pursuer, noticing her struggling to get up smiled maliciously as he approached knowing she had little way to escape. Emelina crawled backwards, drawing her dagger and holding it in her hand but she knew her efforts were futile. There was no way she could outrun lest kill him.
"Die!"
The man had reached her and swung his poleaxe down. The Deities had blessed her with a miracle as his poleaxe got trapped, mid-swing against the branches of a tree. Knowing she had little time, she leapt up from her position, ignoring the overwhelming pain from her leg and inserted the dagger into the man's stomach. Not finishing there, she took out the dagger again and stabbed into the chest area, repeating the process until she finally got the man's heart. Exhausted, barely keeping her head together. She limped for the man's horse and pulled it out of the forest and rode away before the rest of her pursuers to catch up.
*********
It was her 18th birthday, her father had invited the lords who were his allies to his castle the celebrate it and to present possible suitors for his daughter. The hall was loud as Emelina entered the hall with the many noblemen and women cheering. It was so hectic that no one had noticed the events outside the castle.
"Father! We have been betrayed!"
Her two brothers entered the hall swiftly, shouting the news to her father across the hall. They were covered in blood, holding dripping crimson swords but they were unscathed. The crowd erupted into chaos as the nobles ran around in panic.
"Eme!"
Her father shouted, hugging her and with his huge frame, he blocked the crossbow bolts that were aimed at her. He winced and looked down, satisfied that his daughter was safe. The two brothers had ran forward to their father. Barely standing, hugging his daughter weakly he told the three.
"Escape to Enris. Ensure ... this ... not unpunished. Children ... Love ... you."
*********
In the end, Emelina made it to the Crownlands and eventually took a boat to Enris. The fate of her brothers were alone. Had they made it to Crownlands and then into Enris? She would have to find out once she reached her destination
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To find her brothers and return to her family lands
Strengths (Both physical and personality):
A duelist who excels in 1 against 1 combat. She's also extremely loyal and is very unlikely to betray someone. Having fought before, she is unfazed by blood and gore. Experiencing nearly dying has made her more cautious and level headed in her decision making.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's
strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that
is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use
a bow as a miner.):
While she excels at 1 against 1 combat, fighting more than 1 opponent would be dangerous for her as her fighting style requires her to wear minimal armor. Long-reaching weapons like a spear or poleaxe are tough opponents for her and ranged weapons are her biggest witness as she only uses a sword and can't carry a shield. Also, her blind loyalty could be her downfall as she could be exploited by devious characters and she rarely questions decisions once she designated someone as her master.
What is your character's personality?
(Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't
fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish):
Having interacted very little, she's not shy but her speech can be stiff and too serious at times. She also maintains a proper distance from everyone, not letting anyone get too close to her (except for her siblings) and yet letting people remember her somehow.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Arturan (Not sure about this, my char is from Forezzie)
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
1 Simple proficiency
1 Martial proficiency (I'm looking for sword proficiency)
1 Counter
2 Dodge
1 Danger Sense
1 Fleet
Human: Roll
Please use the following link to read up on all the traits available: Please use the following link to read up on all the traits available: Trait System..
Your traits MUST COINCIDE with your
character in description and biography. Whitelisters can and will defer
apps if your traits do not match your character. New characters begin
with 7 trait points, but a final eighth point can be earned in character
through training. Some traits such as alchemy and arcane magic can only
be obtained in game. You can learn new traits through in-character
training at the expense of replacing one of your previously known
traits. Some traits cost more than one point, so please ask if you have
any questions.
(Just a note, Renee, Martial Weapon Prof requires Simple Weapon Prof, which also costs one point, and "Fast Healer" isn't on the list of options for the Human bonus trait)
We look forward to having you!
Out of Character Information
IGN: Tiffosaur
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username?: I’m already in!
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes!!
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Powergaming is, in short, doing the impossible. Doing the impossible would include controlling another’s character or forcing an action on a character, being OP in general, etc.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Metagaming is when one has their character have knowledge they would not normally have, meaning they use sources from Out-of-Character to their advantage In-Character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Roleplay is when one takes control of a character, and deciding their actions, feelings and thoughts.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the owner of the dying character agrees to letting their character die.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: When using the message system, in OOO chat, or using ((brackets)) around the OOC text.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere?: I’ve roleplayed on many Minecraft servers - including Silver Gaming’s previous servers - as well as on Skype. At the moment, I am in a Steven Universe RP group on Skype. I’ve previously roleplayed on Tumblr. In addition to these, I’ve also done forum RP, such as the RWBY RPG forum RP.
Character Information
Name: Allania Elora
Age: 59
Race: Elf
Physical description: Allania stands 6’3”, weighing a good 136 pounds. She adorns short blonde hair, which frames her oval shaped face. Allie’s eyes glimmer a strong green, her strong cheekbones and sharp jawline complimenting said optics. Her skin is fair, from long hours spent in the sun. She possesses long, sharp ears, as most Elves do. Allania appears slender, weak, fragile, but due to hours of physical labor, she’s actually quite strong. Her wear usually differs, depending on what she’s doing, but her usual attire consists of a long-sleeved green shirt; over it is a brown vest. On her dominant hand (Her right), she wears brown fingerless gloves, while her other is left bare. Though, she embellishes a golden-colored bracer on her left, which was given to her by her father. Her russet-colored pants are cut off by brown boots.
Screen capture of your skin: http://imgur.com/qotdndz
Biography:
Allania was the first of two children to Ashera and Deldrach Elora. The beginning of her life was fairly simple - she was treated well by her parents. 11 years into Allie’s life, whilst she was still in her youth, her mother became pregnant once again. Allie was excited, to say the very least. 5 years passed before Meriel was born. Allania was ecstatic. She spoiled and loved her sister - perhaps even more than her own parents did! Meriel was Allie’s first best friend, there was nothing more than Meriel that Allie adored.
Allania’s life was fairly simple for the most part. Her family’s farm amongst the many settlements in Beschwall was quiet. She spent the first 25 years of her life simply working with her parents and spending time with Meriel. Though, once the Elora’s were informed of a band of Savages that were going around and pillaging farms, Allania began to learn the way of archery. She wanted to protect her family and her home. Deldrach understood the basics of archery - his own mother had been an archer and tried to teach him. He taught his oldest daughter of what little knowledge he had of it. In addition, he gave her his mother’s archery bracer. From there, Allania trained on her own.
Another 15 years passed. Days were spent tending to the farm, practicing archery, selling crops. Allie had even taken on the hobby of playing a violin! It was a boring life, but satisfactory for Allania. She had her family, she wanted nothing more, but of course, nothing lasts forever.
It had been a quiet night; she and her family were asleep. The last thing she expected was to be awoken to a frightened sister. Allania comforted her, asking what was wrong, and soon learned that someone entered the home. Allie insisted it was nothing, that Meriel was just hearing things, but to make her sibling feel better, she went to see what it was. Meriel insisted that Allie take her bow with her, so she did. The halls of her home were dark and eerie, her steps were quiet, eyes alert.
She moved to the first floor and stopped when she heard some rustling. Quickly, she drew back her bow, weapon raised and aimed at a faint figure in the darkness. The figure stepped forward, and the faint light from a window revealed a sickly-green skinned human. Their skin was rotting; it was the first time Allania had seen a Savage. She was mortified. The young elf yelled for the monstrosity to step back, and they did so. The Savage slowly moved towards the exit, but Allie’s father came bursting out his bedroom when he heard the yell.
Allania watched as the Savage turned, jabbing a hidden knife into the neck of her father. With a cry, her arrow soared, burrowing itself into the Savage’s forehead. Both her father and the intruder fell to the ground. Meriel rushed downstairs, but Allania pushed her back upstairs, tears falling from her eyes. Her hand was placed over her mouth to muffle cries. She stumbled up the stairs with her sister, and it wasn’t long before she heard a horrified scream from her mother, with loud cries after. Her father was gone, dead, never to awake again, never to kiss her goodnight, never to tell her she’s done good.
Allie spent the night sitting in front of the staircase, crying and making sure her younger sister did not get past her. Allania didn’t want Meriel to see something as terrible as their father’s dead body. Once dawn came and Meriel had given up and went to sleep, Allania returned to the two bodies. Her mother was locked in her room. She stared down at the pool of blood that had formed, before grabbing the Savage’s shirt and pulling him up onto her shoulder. She lugged him out of the house, then threw his dead body into the nearby forest.
Then, next to their farm, she began to dig. Years of physical labor had made her strong, strong enough to do it herself, strong enough to throw her dad’s body into a grave alone. Blood stained her hands, from the Savage and Deldrach. She might’ve been physically strong, but her emotions, she felt, were out of control. She was confused on what to feel. Afraid of what’s to come? Mournful for her father? Desolate for her family’s loss? Anger at the Savages? Guilty for not killing the Savage sooner? The list could go on. Allania finally understood what it meant to lose someone.
The Elora family had to keep living though, with Deldrach or not. They resumed their day to day jobs, but it wasn’t the same. Allania would work on the farm in the mornings, but hunt for Savages during the evening. She hated them. She thought of them as simply target practice for her archery.
At the age of 42, during one of her hunts, she stumbled upon a small child. The child looked lost, afraid, misguided. Allania comforted Orianna, the child, and offered to take her in for a night. It was growing dark, the Elf didn’t want a young girl to wander out alone with Savages about. They returned to the Elora’s home. Once morning came around, Allie offered to bring Ori home, but quickly learned the young girl had no home. Of course, Allania took Ori in. To Allie, Ori was just like her own daughter; she treated her like one.
Years passed, all was quiet. With Orianna in the family, things became more lively. Allie smiled and laughed more, her mother was glad to have something new in the family. Ashera passed away when Allania was 57 from old age and stress. The family wasn’t as distraught as when their father died; Ashera died a happy and peaceful one.
It wasn’t until Allania turned 58 that they were forced to leave the farm. A sudden inflation of Savages appeared, and the risk of staying was too high. Allie insisted that the family leave; they gathered their things, and traveled by carriage to the Crownlands, where they sailed to Enris. Allania believed they could provide help to those defending the island.
What is your character’s main goal?: To make a living in Enris, alongside her Orianna and sister. She hopes she can keep them safe and sustain a proper family. In addition, she wishes she can redeem herself for not being able to save her father and mother, by helping Meriel leave a prosperous life.
Strengths: Allania is kind and upbeat with those she first meets. She cares deeply for her family and friends, making her loyal. In addition, she is courageous, fierce, and competitive. Years of physical labor have left her with a relatively strong upper body and high endurance.
Weaknesses: Allania can have violent tendencies sometimes. She thinks violence is the solution to everything, and she has a short temper. Allie tends to be rather impulsive and overly dramatic. She’s very self-conscious and sensitive, and tends to be over emotional. Unfortunately, she’s not the smartest of the bunch.
What is your character's personality?: When first met, she appears kind and humorous. Allania is caring and loyal, but is fierce and short-tempered. She tends to be impulsive and dramatic at times.
Bonus Language:
- Caro
- Arturan
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
- Basic Farmer (3)
- Toughness I (1)
- Ranged Weapons Proficiency (1)
- Barrage (1)
- Savings I (1)
Accepted: Tiffosaur
A superb application. Welcome back to the fold. See you on August 15th!
Out of Character Information
IGN: Pearl_CrystalGem
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yeah I have indeed.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: The act of powergaming is when a player in RP. Powergaming is when a character does something insanely impossible or OP like dodging 1 million arrows or punching through armor with a bare fist.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Metagaming is the act of when a player gives his character knowledge gained OOC to use in character for an advantage.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: To act out a character in such ways that fit the In-game characters personality and knowledge or even fighting ability
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?:No one can use fly mods, X-Ray and other clientsided mods.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the character who is possibly dying role player consents to the death of their character.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: You either join the mystical realm of OOC or you use double parentheses if you in the IC chat.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I have role play on a previous Silver gaming server that being the Anerian Chronicles. I have also since then RP'ed on a RWBY RPG Forum and have recently joined a Steven Universe RP group.
Character Information
Name: Orianna "Madrei" Redlock-Elora
Age: 24 years old.
Race: Half Human, Half Elf
Physical description:
Orianna is six foot one and is slender like most elves. She lacks normal elve traits such as the pointed ears and the delayed aging process. She has fine charcoal black hair with a streak of blonde. Her hair is very wavy in appearance and has a lot volume. She has luscious lips that are peach colored. Her eyes are an Emerald green and her eyelashes are very full. Her face is very round and her cheeks are plump. She has gap in her teeth giving her London Look. Her wardrobe is very uncommon because she dresses very unusually. She is mostly seen wearing a dark red cloak, beige pants cut short and a white puffy short sleeve shirt and a leather waist sincher.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here): http://i.imgur.com/UdBtDUX.png
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Orianna was born to a loving Elven mother but her Human father was dead by time she was born by old age. She lived with her mother on their family farm in Beschwall but she was too young to tend to it. Her mother slaved many hours a week tending to it trying to make ends meet to support her daughter and keep her land. Orianna did not leave the house much because her mother was scared on how people would react to her being a crossbreed of a forbidden love. Though Orianna did not know why her mother didn't let her leave she listened because her mother had enough stress with tending to the farm. Though her mother came home exhausted day after day she made time to bond with her daughter telling her of a story of an Elf girl who fell in love with a Human boy that had a secret love because their parents did not approve. Orianna would wait all day for her mother to get back so she could hear the story continue with where her mother last left off. As the story began to end as the Human and the elf bought a farm to begin a family her mother began to tear up and cry. She wondered why her mother cried but at the same time was anxious to hear what happened to the couple. Her mother explained that by the time the girl was ready for kids the father had grown old because humans did not age as slow as elves. Though the girl and boy successfully had a baby by the time the child was about to be born the father had died. Her mother grabbed the daughter's shoulder and told her that she was child from the story ending the story.
This shocked Orianna but she just hugged her mom because she had a small grasp on how much she had been through. Days went on as Orianna questioned if she would age like an elf or like a human. If she would die before her mother or be taunted for her being a half elf. One day when Orianna was 7 her mother had come home a wreck crying into her daughter's shoulders. She suddenly began packing a bag and placed various objects in the bag such as a strange blade, some money, food and lastly a note. Her mother had told her that were leaving the farm and going on a trip to a better place. Her mother led her to forest like area and her mother sat her down on a rotted tree stump. Her mother teared up looking at her daughter and she told her that she was going to have to say goodbye because they had no home to go back to. She said they had lost their house and land because they couldn't keep up with payments. The mother had given Orianna the bag and told her she loved Orianna. Orianna cried as she hugged her mother one last time. She watched her mother slowly fade away from her field of vision and Orianna cried.
After hours of thinking she would die in the woods she got up and wandered for ages trying to find her mother who had left her because she couldn't live without her mommy. She stumbled upon a stranger shooting what seemed to be a bow at a target in the woods. The Elven stranger saw her to then consoled her and introduced herself as Allania. The stranger offered her shelter other than her sleeping in the woods because it was getting dark. She stayed with the stranger for a day and then, the stranger offered to bring Orianna home. Orianna cried and said she had no home to go back to because their land was taken away because her mother couldn't keep up with payments. Allania offered for her to stay as long as she wanted. After the third night of staying with Allania and her sister Meriel she had decided to read the note her mother had wrote her. She invited both women to read it with her and it explained why her mother had to leave her daughter because she didn't want her to have to live the beggar life on the streets. Allania hugged Orianna not saying a word.
As the days became months and the months became years Orianna began feeling like she had a home again. She learned the way of selling crops and produced over these years because she felt needed to work for her stay. She learned how to use the blade her mother had given her from Allania who was always her favorite out of two sisters that she lived with. When Orianna was 22 years old she finally got the realization that she was going to be aging at the speed of a human. Though this didn't bother her she knew it was something Allania and her sister were uneased by. One day when she was still 22 the Elven sister's mother had died leaving the women torn and distraught but not as torn as when their father had died before Orianna had lived with them.
Two years passed and Orianna was 24 years old when an inflation of savages had occurred in the area making it so the sister could not live in that area anymore. So Orianna her new mother and her aunt all set out to go to Enris in search of a better, safer life. Now this is where the story picks back up as start their new life in Enris.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To live a life that her mother always wanted her to. That being full of adventure, love and prosperity.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Orianna is decent in hand to hand combat and sure know how to use a blade. She is very smart and cunning because of lessons the Elven girls had taught her throughout her life. She is a very hard worker and often tries too hard to please people around her. She is a people person and often tries to friendliness to get what she wants.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): She often is very insecure about talking about herself and usually shuts down if someone does. She very gullible and usually ends up believing lies people tell her. She is an easy target to be picked on and taken advantage up. She can also be very impulsive when it comes to protecting people she loves.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): She is a very outgoing girl who often is trying to make as many friends as she can. She is very smart and often decides to plan out what she says or does. She very dense when it comes to people flirting with her and it usually takes about 5 dates to realize that she dating someone. She can also be very polite and courteous or be very reckless when she needs to be. She often is very insecure about herself and avoids letting people know about herself.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Arturan
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
City Elf:Judge of Character
Chef:2
Merchant:2
Simple Weapons Proficiency:1
Savings:1
Pack Mule:1
Out of Character Information
IGN: welknair7
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): Already on it!
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Forcing roleplay on other players, dictating how their characters respond to your actions, including the outcome of actions of yours targeting them.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Using out of character knowledge to affect how you behave in-character.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Playing the part of a character in a fictional world, alongside others doing the same, to cooperatively tell a story.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the other player involves agrees to let their character die, including when the other character is in a situation where it is not feasible for them to survive.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: In the OOC chat, private messages, or speaking in parentheses in local.
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I’ve been part of the Silvergaming community for many years, dating back all the way to Silver Age, then Book of Halegron, Shrines of the Ancients, The Anerian Chronicles, and The Wayward Ones. Additionally I’ve been on Lord of the Craft and a couple other minecraft RP servers I’ve since forgotten about. I also have been running and playing tabletop roleplaying games since before I could operate a computer.
Character Information
Name: Turl
Age: 37
Race: Savage
Physical description: Turl is old and has a subdued presence, though he is physically a bit large. Like all savages, he is not terribly pleasant to the eye, having a strange mismatched appearance, somehow both large and small. At the same time, he has an air of dignity and wisdom about him, gained over many long years of life. He most commonly has a sad, wistful expression on his aged face.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here): http://www.planetminecraft.com/skin/turl-the-half-orc-shaman/
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
So you want my story, do you? Well, in that case, you’re probably going to want to take a seat, lad. It’s a long story. One second, I’ll go set some tea brewing.
--
My story begins in the land of Horizon, or the Forlorn lands as some call it. I was born to one of the smaller tribes, one of those that had to constantly fight for the simple right to survive. Due to the oppression the Confederation brought down on our people, we were raised being told to hate them and their ways. Similarly, the other tribes all held false beliefs, all were our enemies. So my people fought and killed both those that looked like us and those that did not. All I remember from my early years was bloodshed, death and chaos. We had a different chieftain every few months, from the previous one being overthrown.
All through this time of war, I felt like I was in the wrong place, that there was something I was missing. None of it ever made sense to me. Killing, war, hate. Why? Why would you do that to another person? Still, they put a club in my hand, and told me to kill. Young, impressionable and confused, I did. I waded into my first battle and killed. Only one, I wasn’t very good, but I did kill. I looked my fellow Orc in the eyes as I watched the light of life leave them. I vomited on the spot, disgusted by what I had done. This deed was of course witnessed by the others of my tribe. I was exiled, for being weak.
So I spent several years aimlessly wandering the plains, scrounging off of what little food I could find, mostly small herbs and berries. As a savage, I was a failure. I either couldn’t or wouldn’t fight – I’m still not sure which it was – and I simply lacked the emotion of hate that seemed to fuel the rest of my people.
In my wanderings, I came across another of my people, an elderly female Orc by the name of Urva. At the time I had been walking for days and had little luck finding food in the middle of the winter. She bade me stay with her, at least until the snow melted. So I did, and so we spoke of many things. We found we had many things in common, including a wish to see the end of the fighting. So she decided to pass on to me what she knew, the ways of the world, and the ancient rites that had been passed down through generations to her, and now to me.
The snow melted, I thanked her, and took my leave. I made my way back to my tribe, now armed with the power of magic, hoping to persuade them there could be a better way. I was met at the gate, and turned away. They would not speak with me, would not let me in. I was now an Other, and enemy. If I did not leave, I would be killed. So I left.
Having decided my own people would not listen, I continued my journey. I went from tribe to tribe, trying to speak to them, and one by one they turned me aside, too deeply entrenched in their traditions of distrusting outsiders and members of other tribes. No one would listen. I had found some modicum of power, but without an ear to listen to me, I had no real power at all.
So I continued travelling, and at last arrived at the tribe that cooperated with the Confederation, that hated others a little less. I joined them, for a time, tried to help improve things for us Orcs. There was little one such as me could do to sway the entirety of the Confederation in their ways, however, and the tribe was simply trying to get by. So a few years later, I moved on. I decided I had to travel further. So I spent years travelling the world, pondering the way of things, slowly refining my understanding of the Words I had been taught.
At last I heard of the plight of Enris, and of the coming effort to push back and attempt to reclaim the lands that had been lost. Seeing an opportunity to make real change, I paid a small vessel to ferry me to the city of Thaeron.
So you ask me what I hope to accomplish here? I hope to make things right, if only in small ways. We should work together towards our common goals, not fight and kill each other. I hope to advise others, to help them avoid the mistakes I’ve seen repeated over and over, in all lands.
Oh, your cup is empty. I’ll go make some more tea.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To teach others to avoid the mistakes he’s witnessed, to build a more peaceful, more prosperous future.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Turl is wise and level-headed. He is slow to anger if he can be angered at all
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Turl is physically old and frail. Additionally, he is pacifistic to a fault, refusing to enter a physical altercation unless absolutely necessary. Even then, he’ll only fight until one party can leave and combat can be ended.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): Turl is kind and slow to anger. He enjoys good conversation and thorough thinking-through of problems. He's at once cynical, having seen the flaws of the races all over the world, and hopeful that the future can be better.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Savage
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
Keyword - 2
Quora – 1
Jaxil – 1
Vived – 1
Exlor – 1
Master Enchanter – 2
(Note: As the starting magic-user, I’ll be utilizing my maximum of 8 points)
finished my app >_< sorry for the earlier accidental post
Renee, I'd like to review your app, but you need to provide a link to an image of your skin, first. I'd rather not defer you straight-away for just that reason alone.
Accepted:
welknair7: What can I really say, Quelk? Great app, great character, and I can't wait to see Turl in-game.
Deferred:
Slime_Warrior_: I liked most of the app, but there were a few discrepancies that I think we should sort out before I accept you. First off, while you said that Orianna learned how to wield her mother's blade, the trait you picked, Simple Weapons Proficiency, only allows you to wield Maces, Quarterstaves, and Daggers. While you can certainly attempt to wield the blade in RP, if you ever try and use it in PvP or PvE, it will only do punching damage.
After that, the only real problems that there are is that it seems a bit strange to me that you would so emphasize Orianna's outgoing nature, yet then say that she's insecure and prevents people from knowing about her. She also seems a little light, weakness-wise, however, I'll leave it up to you if you want to fill out or change those sections some more.
Done >_< Sorry I was editing it to fix it up
Out of Character Information
IGN: regicider8
Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? (This is optional): Nope, I’m good.
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes I have.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Power-gaming/Power-emoting is when a player forces a scenario onto another without letting them influence the outcome. e.g. Player X punches Player Y’s face and shatters all his teeth.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Meta-gaming would be using information a character would not have or know, gained through Out Of Character interactions.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Performing the role of a persona/character.
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one.
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When given permission by said player(could be by verbal or RP reactions).
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: Any time? Within the boundaries of the OOC channel and double parentheses, ((ex)).
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): I have played Half-Life 2 RP on Gary’s Mod, and a few on MC.
Character Information
Name: Tyae D’Arl
Age: 25
Race: Alanni Human
Physical description: Tyae has the tanned skin, grey eyes, and dark hair of her fellow Alanni. She wears a modified desert robe for the change in climate and a blue halfskirt. Her left arm is somewhat scarred due to her favoring it when she tinkers with machines. She wears a simple clothe bracelet given to her by her family when she left to study in Arturan. Her hair is fairly unruly, so she tries to keep it in a pony tail.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Tyae D’Arl was born in Alann to a family of five siblings in a coastal town on the southern coast. Due to the close proximity to the Bheille border, and the nation’s doctrine of universal conscription, Tyae was taught the life of soldiering as part of her earlier education. However, instead of sparring and playing with her classmates, she would rather sit off to the side and read one of the books from the school’s library. This showed signs of an affinity towards Saviesa, which was an oddity in the militarized society. Although the school’s teachers were delighted by this, her parents were not. Her family had a strong tradition of soldiering, either being devout followers of either Rhyfel or Thaer, and this break in tradition greatly upset them. Although disappointed, her parents did not want her to be conscripted, as it would surely lead to her death. For this reason, they sent her off to Arturan when she turned 12, where priests of Saviesa took her under their wing and allowed her to study at the Arturan University. This was rather fortunate timing, as the Bheille would invade Southern Alann later that month.
She studied among the elves and other students, learning math, history, rhetoric, philosophy, and engineering. The elven students gave the foreign students a hard time, and although she encountered this prejudice, she continued her studies with the friendship from the other students. Instead of becoming competitive with her elven classmates, as most of her other classmates did, she went inward, simply ignoring them. It was during this time that she developed a relatively personal connection with Saviesa, as she “talked” to her every day.
When the Bheille invasion was finally thwarted by the troops from Black Rock, Tyae learned that one of her sisters died. At first, Tyae directed all of her hatred towards the Bheille, but after learning from her brother that it was a miscalculation from the Confederation’s magic users, she grew to despise its unpredictability. Oddly enough, however, she became fascinated by the Bheillic war machines when one was sent to the Arturan University for study. She constantly examined it, hours on end, captivated by its complexity. After a few weeks, she even tried to replicate it using materials from the Confederation. However, it seemed that the Confederation’s techniques were not advanced enough to replicate the Bheillic parts, and so she instead focused her research toward improving the Confederation’s tools and techniques.
However, this interest with the Bheille did not go well with...everyone really. On a trip back to Alann, her father confronted her about it, claiming that she was forsaking family and country. Tyae lashed back, reminding him that it was magic that killed her sister, not machines. The argument continued until both sides left, fuming. This was the first time that her father had ever yelled at her, even before she left for Arturan. She wanted to immediately apologize, but her father would not even see her. Her mother and her siblings understood her reasoning, but advised her from openly expressing those beliefs to others. However, they also pointed out that her research might be better received farther away from Bheille. She agreed to this and set sail for Enris, the farthest from Bheille and the home of Saviesa’s holy site. Truly with this combination, she would successfully advance the Confederation.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To research and improve upon the various Confederation tools and engineering techniques. As a follower of Saviesa, she is conflicted by seeing knowledge as either an intrinsic good, or an instrumental good. When she solves this problem, she will pursue it; either gaining knowledge for the sake of it, or for use.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Focused, Loyalty to Family, Curious.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Incredibly aloof, Gullible(quick to believe new things), Prone to extremes in mood, Conflicted, Pro-Bheille/Anti-Magic sentiments, Scatter-brained.
What is your character's personality? (Optional; use this field to note character traits that you feel don't fit into either strengths or weaknesses if you wish): An oddity to other Alanni(never fought in combat), she lacks the stoic attitude one gains through constant combat. Instead, she possesses what other Alanni call, “a childish curiosity for things”. As such, when talking to veteran Alanni, they tend to see her more as a child, despite her age.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Alanni
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
Scholar(2) - Arturan language
Saviesa follower(2)
Basic Engineer(3)
Human Racial Trait: Orator(1)
Accepted
Tankinator:
Much better. Welcome back!
SilverFlonne/ReneeLiong:
Great app. Welcome back to you too!
regicider8:
gg no re
Out of Character Information
IGN: bunnyfufu299
Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yup.
What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Powergaming is roleplaying in a way that doesn't give other people a chance to react, including it might be COMPLETELY unrealistic.
What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: Using OOC info to your advantage IC.
What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: Playing the role of another character, reacting to events or circumstances as the character would. Hence the name "roleplay".
Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: People who have a deathwish
When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When the owner of the character gives you permission/if the character is endangering yours.
When are you allowed to speak out of character?: In the OOC chat or when using brackets such as ((Enris is an anagram for “risen”; coincidence? I think NOT!))
Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? (Optional): Yes. Yes I do. Please don’t make me write a list of all the RP I’ve done in my lifetime.
Character Information
Name: Meriel Elora
Age: 43
Race: Elves
Physical description: Meriel stands at 6’4” with a slightly pudgy weight alongside a broad build. She has dark brown hair that goes down to her chin. Meriel has a button nose sprinkled with freckles. Her round head and brown eyes look almost nothing like her sister, Allenia. She wears brown overalls over a tattered down shirt made out of a potato sack. Her pale skin is littered with scars and burn marks.
Screen capture of your skin (I recommend uploading to imgur and posting link here):
Biography (Minimum 225 words. Most very fleshed-out characters have around 300, but feel free to use even more than that if you wish. Try and avoid clichés such as loved one being killed by bandits or the like):
Meriel was brought up by a welcoming family. Her older sister, Allania, was usually the one to care for Meriel. Being the youngest was easy for Meriel, because there were little to no responsibilities. Meriel enjoyed being outside by herself, mostly because she didn’t have many friends as a child. Meriel taught herself how to wrestle pigs and make the perfect mud pie. She loved to get herself all dirty and muddy so she can make little pathways throughout the house. Eventually Allania would have to prepare a bath for little Meriel. Life couldn’t have been simpler.
On the other hand, Meriel never learned to read and write. Meriel became too busy focusing on the farm life rather than any fancy academic hoo-hah. Allania would instead read and write for her. There was no need to learn. There was farmwork to be done. Farmwork was the only thing Meriel ever actually worried about. What did she expect?
It was the middle of the night when Meriel heard a noise downstairs. It sounded like someone was talking to themselves. Terrified, Meriel quickly pitter-pattered to Allania’s bed for help. Shaking her, Meriel woke Allenia up, and began to tug on Allania’s nightgown to get her to follow her.
Meriel slowly followed behind her older sibling. She trembled in her small slippers as she watched her older sister aim her bow at the darkness. Meriel was told to stay at the top of the steps. She did so. Meriel carefully whispered down the steps for Allie, just to see if she was still there. Suddenly, the small elf heard screaming. This startled her, causing her to rush back to her room in fear. Meriel slammed and barricaded the door with her rocking chair. Swiftly she retreated underneath her bed to hide. The screaming eventually morphed into crying, and Meriel remained frightened and silent. Eventually she fell asleep underneath the bed once the crying seemed to die down.
The next morning Meriel walked down to the dining room to find her mother and her older sister sitting at the table, absolutely distraught. After a long talk with the two, Meriel decided that if she were to help protect her family, she needed to get stronger. For months and years after she made sure to keep in tip-top shape for the farm and the safety of the house. Sometimes Meriel sparred with Allania. The bond between the two sisters grew stronger over time.
Eventually a new member, Orianna, joined the family, but Meriel didn’t take much time to pay much attention to that. It seemed to be that they were the new child of Allania. Slowly but surely, Meriel began to notice that her sister moved her attention to the new kid instead of her. Denying her jealousy, Meriel took the time to work even harder to get Allania’s attention once more. More training. More working. More farming.
Many years later, the family had to move out of Beshwall due to Savage infestation. Now they move towards Enris where it is said to be the safest place possible at the moment. New home. New future.
What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To help the world through feeding and protecting the innocent, as well to protect her own family from the dangers of the world.
Strengths (Both physical and personality): Meriel is a very very buff girl, and is able to fist fight any bloke down the block. Being very outgoing and friendly, Mariel lives for joy. A good smile can go a long way for her. Having a very keen sense of hearing, Meriel loves to eavesdrop on unsuspecting saps at the tavern every once in a while. Meriel has very green thumb and can maintain a farm with ease.
Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses. Not knowing how to do something that is outside of your class is not a weakness. I.E. Not knowing how to use a bow as a miner.): Meriel unfortunately doesn’t know how to read or write and usually depends on other people to read to her or write for her. Meriel has a bad habit of eavesdropping as well as she’s very impulsive. Temper may sometimes get the best of her. She also has a lot of paranoia and may be quick to jump to conclusions.
Bonus Language (Caro is free): Arturan
Character Traits (up to 7 points worth):
City Elf - Judge of Character
Keen Hearing - 1
Wrangler - 1
Advanced Farmer - 5
Many thanks! I too am interested to see how things play out for Turl.