Though I did enjoy the length of your application last time, you did rid the parts which seem to mess around with the lore. I must say that this is much more lackluster now, though it wont hinder you since I have seen apps that aren't particularly greater in length and lacked proper detail that still get accepted. Anyways, welcome aboard!
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): Would rather not share, sorry eh.
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes, I currently play on another roleplay server called Lord of he Craft and I have played Pathfinder (it's like D&D) with a friend multiple times.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: You force your actions upon others or your character's actions are over powered/ not realistic (sometimes including that character's traits).
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: When you use information in roleplay that you did not achieve through roleplay, but information that you obtained through OOC means.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you play a persona/character that you or someone else has created and playing that persona not as yourself, but as the persona itself.
----IC Info---- -Character name: Nerida
-Character race: Human
-Character gender: Female
-Character age: 12
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. This more or less helps us to better understand your characters starting skill set): Growing up on a small farm, Nerida doesn't have many skills that go outside of maintaining and/or taking care of a house and farm. Before her mother passed away she was able to learn how to cook for herself, to sew, and other sorts of skills women would usually perform. Her father taught her to tend to the animals and to chop wood. Having no wild ambition or dream to pursue, Nerida plans to stick with what she knows and just be able to sustain herself.
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Nerida developed at a younger age, is a larger girl, with thicker hips and thighs and she stands at 5' 1". She has dark brown wavy hair that reaches down to her lower back, deep brown eyes that almost resembles a dark chestnut color, and long thick eye lashes that make her eyes look large and wide. Nerida's complection is quite fair, but her cheeks are rosy and her lips bright in color and full. Her skirt is old and torn, obvious that she hasn't been looked after properly in a while. The skirt hangs about loosely over her under dress and underbust corset. The under dress's sleeves slightly hang off her shoulders exposing her chest, collar bone and a bit of cleavage (which she constantly tries to pull up to hide).
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Nerida is generally a shy and quiet person, but when around good company and happy people she opens up and loves to have a laugh and be social with her companions. Being a bit larger she isn't very athletic or fast, but still able to run when the situation calls for her to do so. She tries her best to be kind and understanding, as well as polite. Nerida will never speak out of turn or place, staying quiet until she's addressed or if she needs to asking something of someone. Her voice is sweet and high pitched, so high in fact that when she whistles she sounds like a bird. Whistling and humming comforts her, so when she's alone where no one can hear her, she likes to hum or whistle a tune. Nerida is a very tidy person, she likes to keep things clean and neat including herself. Whenever she's dirty with mud and dust or there's a stain in her clothing she feels uneasy and has the impulse to clean until she cleans what ever it is that's not to her standard.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences): Nerida was born on a small farm, outside of Falkvard, to mother Edith and father Henrey. Being their only child, Nerida was their pride and joy. They loved and adored her with all their heart and were sure to let her know of that. The pair were humble farmers, living on a small plot of land far from other homes or farms. So granted, Nerida didn't have many friend growing up, but she didn't mind too much. She was kept busy at their farm helping her parents with chores and the every day drill. Life was happy and simple, even when there were downs they always found ways to cheer themselves up.
The small family lived in peace even when the world around them seemed chaotic. Unfortunately this soon changed when two strange men came to visit their humble home. It was a dark stormy night, the rain was heavy and the air freezing. Edith and Henrey were sleeping peacefully in their room while Nerida sat out in the common room in front of the fire place. Suddenly she heard a loud knocking at the door which startled her. She quickly spins around to look at the window by the door, but since it was so dark she could barely make out a face. She stands to her feet and rushes to her parents' room to wake them. She shakes her father, repeating over and over in a panicked voice "Dad! Dad! There's someone at the door. Dad there's someone knocking at the door!". Tired and groggy the father lazily stands to his feet, his wife sitting up soon after with Nerida in her arms, trying to calm her down. Henrey steps out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him to see who would knock on the door so late at night. As the mother held Nerida in her arms, she whispered to her "Everything's alright, daddy's going to take care of it." BAM! A loud crash is heard from outside the room. The door is door is broken down and it sounds like something fell to the floor with a thud. Quickly Edith stands to her feet and shoves Nerida under the bed, shushing her for her to be quiet. Soon after the bedroom door is broken down as well. Nerida watches the men walk into the room and around the bed, grabbing her mother as she screams and pleads for mercy. They soon bash her head with some sort of blunt object, the sound of her skull breaking open echos through the room. She falls to ground, her body limp and lifeless. Nerida, now holding her mouth closed with her hands, watches in horror as her mother's blood gush out onto the floor around he. Some of the blood even spreading underneath the bed, inching closer and closer to Nerida before she too lies in a pool of her mother's blood. The two men search about the room, taking anything of value and throwing it into a large sack. The sack now full, they exit the bedroom to look through the common room. A few crashes are heard, flower pots perhaps, and soon after the two men leave the house leaving the once cozy and peaceful home in ruin.
After those events, Nerida never could fully trust someone. Witnessing her mother's death and seeing her father's face bashed into his skull, she couldn't stay at that house any longer. With the farm in ruin and all the animals dead, she had nothing left for her there. Emptiness and despair soon take over her, her thoughts infected with darkness. Nerida travels about and around Falkvard, looking for anything to give her meaning again. Now homeless and an orphan she decides to enter the city, hoping she could start a new life there.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed. Being a little slow, Nerida doesn't really notice or seem to care that the child just ran past her. After wandering about looking at the few stalls that haven't closed, she notices that when her hand brushes up against her side that something's missing. Looking down she sees that her coin purse is missing. She panics, rushing about and backtracking to see if she had dropped it anywhere. With all the stalls now closed and the sun hanging low in the sky, Nerida is determined to find her coin purse. Now being mentally and physically exhausted, she sits down near one of the stands. Her back against the side and her head leaned to the side, she thinks back how she could've lost something so important. Suddenly she feels her heart sink, realizing that it was probably the child that bumped into her earlier that took the coin purse. Worn out and feeling hopeful she decides to give up her search, her eyes start to close on their own and soon after she falls into a deep sleep.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population. Seeing the mother wolf injured, she thinks back to the violent attack that took her own mother's life. Feeling that emptiness where you usually feel a mother's love made Nerida's heart ache as a lump grew in her throat. Knowing that if she didn't act fast, these pups would also feel that emptiness and soon after die. She slowly approaches the wolf, carefully and quietly to not scare her or worry her. "It's ok," She says in a quiet and soothing tone "I'm here to help." Finally close enough to kneel down and reach the bear trap, she carefully looks it over to see how to open it. Once finding the spring that closed the track, she presses down on it with one hand while pulling the jaws of trap apart with her other. Barely pulling it wide enough for the wolf to pull her leg, the wolf does so quickly. She stands up and starts limping away as her pups follow her. Letting go of the trap, Nerida stands back to her feet and walks back to find the path she was on. Along the way she thinks back to her deed with a small smile. Whether it was right or wrong she didn't care, she was just happy to know that those pups didn't lose their world.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
Hello Zaichic and thank you so very much for your interest in our server! Your writing style and storytelling are both lovely and your application was a pleasure to read. Most everything you have presented is a-OK and good to go, save for one detail which must be spoken about. Please consider this concern carefully, as it is meant to protect both you and other players.
In your application you have listed Nerida as being just twelve years old. This in itself is not a problem. However the description that you have written for her has an emphasis on sexualized aspects of the character, namely her impressive bosom. These two qualities independent of each other are not an issue. In fact, having a somewhat developed younger character is also not outright wrong. The issue lies with the wording, context, and emphasis. Here in Saphriel we do not support the sexualization of children.
We ask that you please either bump her age up substantially, or redirect the emphasis of her description to other aspects of her being. When you have updated your application please let us know, because we are very much looking forward to having you on-server. Have a wonderful day!
(this is subject to change. I've had a hack attempt on this account and may be forced out of it eventually.)
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): grz_art
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? I do in fact have prior role-play experience; Though I do not know what be a sufficient example. Here's one of the last posts of one of the RPs I was in on these forums some years ago; I doubt my writing has improved much since then.
Bloodroot...
Tirsen named the plant as he saw it, making sure his memory was still sharp. He bent over and dug his fingers into the soil around the plant, loosening the dirt around the plant's deep roots. He gently pulled it up from the ground; the long, red, subterranean branches that gave the plant its name coming forth. He brushed the plant clean, and gently tucked it into his bag.
Looking up into the sky, Tirsen realized he did not have enough time to continue searching for reagents, so he settled for what he had and began the return into the city.
---------------
"Which way to Leoch's?" Tirsen repeated, over and over; and again again he went unnoticed. The people, either too busy or too racist to give him the time of day, would not answer his simple question. He attempted to read several signs posted in hopes of some direction, but after so long he still did not know how to read well enough to determine what "Leoch" would look like written down. So he continued to ask around, hoping someone would show mercy. In the back of his mind he regretted leaving the city at all; he should have stayed to keep following the man. Tirsen was too embarrassed to have mentioned his lack of literacy to his bandit companions, not that he thought they could read either; but now he was certainly stuck.
Finally, a young boy pointed in the direction of the inn, much against his mother's wishes, who quickly snatched him up and ran off. But Tirsen had enough to work with. He drifted in the general direction of the inn long enough to catch wind of the smell of alcohol, vomit, and sweat. He calmly walked into the establishment and braced himself.
As he expected, the patrons of the bar quieted themselves for a moment, staring at him. Probably wondering what he was doing there, and where the rest of his clothes were. He stood there and stared back at them briefly, then sat himself down where it was empty. He glanced around the room and noticed the man from before, along with lizardmen and that...odd lynxwoman. He decided against approaching them, since they seemed to be amidst conversation. Instead he decided he would wait for his bandit friends and let them do all the talking...if they ever managed to show up.
Just in case they wouldn't, Tirsen went over in his mind ways to prove himself for the man and seem worthy to be taken along in the quest to claim the bounty.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is when someone is behaving "unrealistically" or otherwise uncharacteristically for the purpose of "winning" or achieving their desired goals, instead of allowing events to unfold naturally or realistically. For example, always going for the killing blow in combat, or always being able to avoid capture. It is unrealism for the sake of being right or exceptional. And it's rather childish.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using OOC knowledge IC; it is taking information that you, as a player, are aware of and applying it to your character. For example, understanding a language that is not common that your character is not learned in, or using information you read through the Lore that your character would have no real way of knowing.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: Roleplaying is the nearly lost art of storytelling and character development from multiple authors, each one writing and creating from the vantage of his own character. Like an unscripted play where every actor is a playwright, it is fully adopting the character you have created in a created world, and allowing the genuine interactions between other characters and the world around them to develop into its own unique story and style of gameplay.
----IC Info---- -Character name: Veras Vayrderoth
-Character race: Half-Elf (Human and Dark-Elf)
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 24
-Character Occupation: Hunter / Poacher (this occupation is a ruse to divert attention)
-Character description: Veras appears more dark-elf than human; his complexion is an almost purplish-grey, his eyes are a reddish brown, and his hair is bleach white. He stands at approximately 5'10, with a thin but lean physique. His humanity manifests itself most innately: he does not possess the same low-light vision or metabolism that his mother had; he is much more like an average man in prowess and ability.
He keeps his hair cut long; not that it is seen often. His typical outfit consists of cloaks and hoods, and very often face masks, to shield his face as much as possible from the elements of magic that mages would hurl at his head to blind or scar. He is always dressed ready for battle, with leather armor, boots, and strappings both light and flexible; with little regard for protection from weather. He retains a sword given to him by his father, used by the elder during his time in the Hunters' Guild, and a bow given him by his mother; a weathered remnant of a time long past.
-Character personality and traits: Veras is a stoic man; hardened by the training and experiences he endured during childhood. His ultimate drive is one of a very skewed perception of justice and religion. He exists to persecute magic. His father, a madman, instilled this in him, and he would show no remorse over the corpse of a mage of any age or race. His hatred is intense and his purpose is clear, but in his own mind, he does all of this out of duty and service to Aderoth; a god usually attributed to healing rather than death. His beliefs are thus cultish and specific to his family (and whatever madmen would believe his words). He is also thus a very religious man, venerating Aderoth and deifying angels. He sees the act of magic persecution as a service to Aderoth, and as a "healing of the land."
Outside of these inexplicable beliefs, however, Veras would not be considered as mad as his father. He is calculating and practical, perhaps, but not without mercy and goodness to others. His strong religious convictions mean that he is kind and generous to the common man, but in the absence of a smile and without a need for thanks. On a personable level, he is reserved, seemingly always focused on his mission. Internally, however, he struggles with doubt; plagued by the memory of his forgotten sister, a mage slain by his brother's hand in the sight of their father. Sometimes, it would appear as though he buries himself in his work and excuses his actions with religion in an attempt to bury her memory.
Lastly, Veras has a love for book-knowledge. He has collected numerous tomes and holy scrolls and will pay dearly for any writings pertaining to Aderoth. He has been known to write himself, though mostly for documentation of his exploits and travels.
-Character biography:
Blood is everything.
In order to understand the man that Veras has become, one must understand the heritage of his blood. It started years ago, with the unheeded march of the Pact. Forced to flee Manadh Calad, a Dark-elven woman sought succor in the city of Barkamsted, a refugee from the raging war. On her way into town she came upon a young human man, shouting on about Hunters and recruitment. She didn't hear his words, only his lovely voice. She often whispered that they two were fated to meet there. He was young and she was forward, and neither of them had care for the stigmas placed upon such relationships; war gives way to recklessness. And unbeknownst to her, he was a man of war and devotion, in service to the Hunter's Guild for which he had become a recruiter; the old men of the Guild wanted a younger face to attract more younger faces, so he never saw real battle, but he was trained in their ways and taught their secrets.
Years passed and battles were waged, and a time came when whispers of the fabled Blighted Weapons reached the Hunters' ears. Whether devotion or madness drove him, none know, but he became so obsessively devout to Aderoth, and to light and purity, that it became this lowly Hunters' self-proclaimed mission to find these artifacts: not for use, but destruction. He began to ramble on upon the evil of the forbidden magic that formed them, and of the evil of all magic (a belief either propagated by his Dark-elf lover, or perhaps the belief that drew him to her). In the last years of his life he shut himself and his lover up in their home, and while they dutifully observed the law they were scarcely seen or heard from again. In seclusion he created his own dichotomy of religion, a cultish understanding of magic as being the antithesis of light and holiness (despite the fact that holy magic exists; a colloquial "grey area" of the madman's own headcanon), and in seclusion he taught this knowledge to his sons.
Veras was not the eldest. His elder brother was Verildar, whom Veras did not truly know. He was given the name Vayderoth, in honor of Aderoth, and instructed in the art of the hunt as his father knew. After Veras was born, he remembers that Verildar would come home many a night with a trinket in hand: the trophy of a different kind of hunt. Veras only understood this truth when his younger sister was born. At a young age, Verildar held some sort of trinket close by her, a ritual that he supposed that both brothers had undergone when they were too young to remember. One by one, a series of trinkets were held to her, and at the last, it glowed and sparked. She had manifested a talent for magic. After a moment of silence, Verildar killed the young girl with his own hands, as their father watched and was made proud. Veras was too young to understand and screamed and cried, but this family-cult assured him that their sister had become an abomination and a blight; the curse of the world. One night soon after Verildar did not come home, and the vigil to Aderoth lasted a week after his death; reportedly at the hands of a master mage.
Veras' duty became all the more clear that day. He has come to understand magic as a blight itself, whether it is used for good or for evil. It alone is the reason for the cracks between hell and earth. Veras has adopted his father's hatred of Bothimir, equaled only by a hatred for Udero who keeps Aderoth and Behmos in balance. Shrines to these "false" gods are desecrated in Veras' sight, as is the life of any would-be mage, as he now travels to and fro seeking to end the lives of the next would-be arcanists, under the guise of a poacher selling game. Veras has sworn an oath by Aderoth to deliver holy and pure justice, whether or not the common folk understand his goals, and to never forget the sacrifice Verildar made to keep the world safe from evil; a sacrifice paid in blood.
Blood is everything.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
"You rotten little..."
Veras muttered in Elvish under his breath as he realized what had just occurred. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he pounced and began to pursue the child through the markets. The chase was natural; instinctive. The prey was different; perish the thought at considering the child such, but in its own way, the cat-and-mouse game they played was its own kind of hunt. Without a second thought, Veras whispered a silent prayer to Perities; not for the grace of truly hunting the boy, but the grace of catching him. Though in his mind he understood that he was simply retrieving his purse, Veras soon began to experience the all-too familiar flashes that came with the chase;
With each step he saw the terrorized faces of young mages, looking back at him in horror as they realized their fate. With each market stand that made wind as he rushed past, he heard the cries of the arcanist as they struggled to conjure some spell to defend themselves with. Suddenly, he was no longer pursuing a young thief. He was the witcher, and the child the monster; he the huntsman, and the child the prey. His eyes narrowed, his stride expanded, his gait quickened as he tightened his limbs and became like a deer galloping through the forest of stalls and stands. And now, he was upon his prize.
He reached forth and snatched the child by his garb, yanking back with enough force to tear the cloth. As the child fell, he spilled the coin in every direction. His eyes met Veras', and a familiar terror his countenance. The child was a young girl. Veras had taken the life of innocence before, though to call a mage innocent was a foreign notion; but never could he bring himself to bring judgement on the young girls. They were too much like...her. The one he lost to evil. The one taken from him, just as he had taken from others in the name of Good. In the eyes of the young thief, Veras saw his sister. Her cold and lifeless corpse staining the ground with the pestilence of magic; her blood redeeming man of sin.
His vision ended, and the child had gone. A crowd gathered as Veras stood motionless over the pile of coin, and a beggar crept ever closer to try and take some for himself. Veras knelt down and gathered what he could before turning to go. To hide.
To forget.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
"And so," Veras muttered in the Elvish tongue, "The mighty hunter becomes the prey."
He knelt down beside the injured creature, and it snarled; unable to discern his motives. Truthfully, he could do no better. He simply did his best to assess; could the creature survive? Probably. But that would require more effort than he had to give. The likelihood is that the creature would die; the mighty hunter felled by man's poor attempt to be like her.
The animal yelped in pain, and the pups around her barked and howled, one of them gnawing at Veras' boot.
"Your time has come, hunter," he whispered to the wolf, "rest from your chase."
With one swift motion he drew his sword and plunged it, with both hands on the hilt, into the creature's eye. It gave a final shriek before curdling, twitching as its nerves reacted to the final moments of death. Immediately, the pups viciously attacked Veras, and he had no choice. He knew that they were but protecting their caretaker, but they were no hunters of their own that they could withstand him, or the wilds of the woods, alone.
With three twists of his wrists, they all lay in the grass, lifeless. Veras carefully undid the bear trap holding the creature's body, and he skinned it for its pelt. He took no pleasure in the act, but saw the befitting cycle represented by hunter and hunted. He slung the fur over his shoulders, saying a prayer to Aderoth to accept the hunters' souls as he carried his earnings into the village. In a way, the she-wolf served a higher purpose. Her skin added to his guise so that his mission could continue unnoticed; and in her own way, she was helping rid the world of its gravest sin.
Or so he convinced himself.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
9/27/2014
Posts:
55
Minecraft:
xJazzyCreeperx
Member Details
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: xJazzyCreeperx
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): N/A
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes. been on some role-play servers such as ARK Realms, Bastronull: Reign of Lords (R.I.P) and a few others.
-
Define Power-gaming in your own words: Basically making a character that goes beyond the laws of psychics to try and over power other players or try to out do every basic rule of role-play.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using any form of knowledge (that was not previously know by a person in character) given outside the role-play to take advantage of or use against a player inside role-play.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: A form of speaking that allows people to express a certain character or action that they may or may not be able to perform in real life OR to act out or tell a story or an action with great detail in writing or some from of non-verbal speech.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Nephiah Dromlyn
-Character race: Dark Elf
-Character gender: Female
-Character age: 27
-Character Occupation: Jeweler/Craftsman of small metal and wooden objects.
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing a little over 5'6 and slender with a a pear shaped body her hips being a LITTLE bigger than her shoulders Nephiah was the shortest in her family but in her eyes that just meant she was the fastest and sneakiest. Her skin has a faded dark grayish-purple tint to match her blood red eyes and her almost jet black hair that hangs gently below her shoulders but is mainly kept up using he mothers pendant she had remastered into a hair clip, she also has a small streak of dark grey hair that hangs from her face, the grey hair is a family trait passed to her from her female side of the family.
Nephiah is one of the few women of her family that does not wear some form dress or skirt, she typically borrowed her brothers slacks along with his old hunting shirt their mother had made for him for his first trip out hunting with their father to hide the female curves she seemed to hate. Her feet were not like the rest of her they were worn and a bit cracked from the years she ran around bare-footed with her brother as children but she took a small pair of almost new leather bound boots when her mother insisted she 'at least try to dress like a lady' for her. She would occasionally wear some form of necklace or bracelet she had made as a teenager from the scraps of metal, jewels and ore her father had given to her from his armory.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Nephiah has a very odd personality she was always the out going, spontaneous, giggly girl growing up until she experienced something that changed her life (see biography). As she grew her personality becoming increasingly dull as she became like every other widowed woman, she did nothing but what she thought she was supposed to do: bathe, work, eat, sleep, repeat. Looking for more in her life Nephiah returned to crafting small trinkets from scrap metal she had either stolen or 'borrowed' from the locals. Nephiah found the more reclusive dark men to be the most attractive since she herself was a dark spirited recluse.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Growing up Nephiah had a great childhood, she had a loving mother a hardworking father and a stubborn but strong brother. From the day she could remember she was always in her fathers shop watching him make what she believed was the best forged armor, weapons and trinkets in town and maybe even the world. Sometimes, if she had been good that day and done all of her chores, her father would let her hold the hilt of a sword as he gave it the final touches which was always his famous signature, a small flower on the end end of a knife, he has always told her the symbol represented the beauty of death and that some day he would die and she would have to carry on his work. Nephiah was always picked on by the other girls for wearing her brothers clothes teasing her for many years calling her a boy, a pig, a worm just because she did not want to wear those tight fancy dresses or skirts.
Some years had passed and eventually the girls in her town forgot about her as the economy lowered in thus lowering the amount of customers her father got for his shop. Her family quickly dove into poverty and her father had to quit the job he loved, the job he cherished to become a fisherman working for a group of men that demanded so much from him threatening him and his family if he did not make the cut for the day. Nephiah was always afraid that her father would not return home, her mother assured her that her father was more than capable of handling himself, that he was a strong hardworking man and that he would not give up because he had us. She was wrong...
The man at the door was her uncle a giant sobbing mess as her mother held it in until she closed the door falling to her knees, the moment would never fade from Nephiahs mind, the day she found out her father died was the day she herself died inside. His funeral was all to quick, leaving an empty feeling in her gut and an empty seat at the table, she went days without eating and her brother had not been seen since they had been told their father passed. She had half a thought that her bother was probably now dead as well, knowing him he went after the men at the fishery to give them a piece of his mind not knowing or caring about the possible dangers of doing so. Nephiah left home shortly after the return of her brother, her mother did not even give so much as a peep as Nephiah stood at her mothers bedroom door with her belongings, turning around and heading out the door she gave her bother one last smile before she shut the front door never seeing them again.
Adult hood hit Nephiah like a rock she had to grow up on the streets and as a woman it was hard to find safe places to sleep at night, during the day she would wake up and clean herself at the local baths and then spend the day stealing coin purses to buy food from the market. One day she had stolen from a short husky woman that turned to her before she even got close and grabbed Nephiahs arm and dragged her away from the market place, the woman swung her threw a wooden door into a small empty room and raised her hand but not her temper the woman's voice rang a loud high pitched yell as Nephiah looked at the ground,
"How dare ye' ladeh yeh almost gave me a heardy-tack",
The accent was new and strange to her she had never seen or heard someone like this woman before, she unknowingly began to stare at the stranger until the women belted a loud,
"What yeh be starin at youngin? Outa beat the **** out yeh, yew lot ain't never seen a Dwarf have yeh ?"
Giving a quick denial shake of the head Nephiah apologized to the lady and explained why she had tried to steal from the woman, breaking down into tears the stranger took her in and offered Nephiah a small job to pay off for the gold she stole from the locals. The bond between the strange woman and Nephiah grew a little before the woman headed back to her homelands leaving her in charge of a small baking shop that over much time and effort she had turned into a den for herself and very small space for her metal works that she grew herself into for many years.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Nephiah turns around quickly as she sees the small hand flinging past he the small basket of apples she help falling quickly to the ground as she darted off after the child, she knew he had gotten a good head start on her but she hoped she could outsmart him with a sneak attack by taking an ally way to try and meet up with him on the other side. She slid down the ally like butter on bread and sprinted quickly around the small building, as she turned the corner she smashed into a tall man bouncing off him like a bouncy ball on hardwood floor, her rear end met the gravel hard and she yelled a loud sorry as she quickly got to her feet looking around. Nephiah sighed angrily and asked the man if he had seen a small boy with a blue-ish leather coin pursethe man slowly shook his head no. She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head before walking back down the ally she had just came from with a slight devilish grin and a chuckle she muttered , 'Hope he uses that on somethin good'
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Looking over the injured wolf Nephiah slowly bent down and turned her body to each side as she glanced around the woods, looking back at the wolf she unbuckled the small canteen she kept fastened to her belt and opened it. The mother wolf not growing at her was a good sign it meant she had seen people before but probably been chased or scared away every time, Nephiah raised her hand slowly to the wolfs face watching her very closely and let the mother wolf sniff her hand once before she poured a bit of water onto her hand placing it in front of the wolfs muzzle stunned as the mother wolf took a few laps of the water from her hand.
Nephiah nodded to the wolf knowing she had to save this wolf so she turned to the trap and drizzled a bit of the water over the wolfs wound so that she could see the damage. Closing the canteen and returned it to her belt before looked over the old trap noticing it was quite flimsy for a trap and probably was made to capture the pups instead, slowly moving her feet to each side of the trap she placed her feet on the two metal feet of the trap gripping the teethe of the trap with her hands and arching her back she used her upper body strength to slowly pry the two teeth apart as she clenched hers, the years of hard work she had put in finally come to use. Opening the trap just slightly enough for the wolf to give one last burst of energy to pull her leg from the trap Nephiah made sure the wolf was free before releasing the teeth letting the small gap between them snap back together. Nephiah stood up and grabbed the trap looking at the wolf as she looked at her, Nephiah walked over to the wolf leaning down once more as she torn off the right sleeve of her shirt tying it around the wolfs wounded leg and watched as the mother wolf limped her way over to her pups giving them all reassuring licks as Nephiah stood there for a bit before taking off with the trap.
Marvelous, simply marvelous. This is an exemplar application and future applicants would do well to take lesson from it. Broken_Sky, you have created a fun, unique, interesting character that will surely drive roleplay and create interest. Your storytelling and inclusion of server lore is phenomenal. We absolutely cannot wait to see you on-server.
Hello xJazzyCreeperx, and thank you very much for your wonderful application. This is just about good to go, with one minor detail barring you from entry.
According to our dark-elf lore, the only color eyes that full blooded dark-elves may posses is red. In the following quote you have listed Nephiah's eye color as silver, which is contradictory to that information.
Her skin has a faded dark grayish-purple tint to match her cold silver eyes and her almost jet black hair that hangs gently below her shoulders but is mainly kept up using he mothers pendant she had remastered into a hair clip, she also has a small streak of dark grey hair that hangs from her face, the grey hair is a family trait passed to her from her female side of the family.
The following link to our dark-elven lore has been provided to you for ease of access.
Skype:None, but if you want me to make one I can and will!
Past RP Experience: I have done RP in Minecraft before, but not in any other sites or games. I have spent several days worth of playtime on the Aethier and Eurasia Machina server, about 5 days on each. (Not 5 different days, as in 5 sets of 24 hours).
Powergaming: Powergaming is where one would make an action without giving the person whom the action is being directed to, to react accordingly. A good example of Powergaming is:
Billy: “Can we resolve this without conflict please? I would rather not shed blood needlessly?”
Tommy: *fed up with Billy, takes out his sword and stabs him in the throat, killing him instantly*
Powergaming is a bad thing because it upsets the environment of the roleplay, making it far less enjoyable for everyone involved.
Metagaming: Metagaming is where one uses knowledge they obtained OOC while IC. An example is:
Walter finds Jack's secret base while mining for diamonds while OOC. Later, when he goes IC, he would tell Jason (Jack’s enemy IRP) where the base was, even though his character shouldn’t have any idea where it was. Through this, Jack is upset because he is now probably dead or harmed, and his base which should have been a secret, is no longer a secret.
Roleplaying: Roleplaying is where you abandon who you are in real life for a character you created. You need to follow that character's desires, not your own personal ones. You need to be willing to step out of your own mind and into the mind of your character. Basicly, roleplaying is becoming what you aren’t, wether that be bad or good.
--IC INFO--
Character Name: Jaren Ward
Character Race: Human
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 25
Character Occupation: Scholar
Character Description: Jaren Ward is a tall man, standing at 6’1”, being an oddity in the world. He has pale skin and deep brown eyes and hair, but a lean body. He isn’t particularly strong or attractive, but he isn’t ugly or weak. With a proud posture and strong, commanding voice, Jaren can keep the attention in a crowd if he wants to. He has long hair that nearly covers his eyes, but still not long enough for a ponytail.
As for clothing, Jaren tries to keep his attire fairly simple. He wears a long blue coat with a black tunic beneath it, as well as a small white strap for his bag. He has grey pants with thick black boots, all of which look like they have stood the test of time. His belt always has a short gladius style sword on it, but he tends never to cross blades with others.
Character Personality and Traits: Jaren is a man of a simple mindset, with few goals. He will often disregard his own safety and go out of his way to help others. He sees the hate and violence in the world, and wishes to use his own hands and mind to cleanse it. Rarely having a negative attitude, Jaren only wants everyone to be satisfied and for the world to be at peace. He understands that this goal is next to impossible, but he is willing to try. Never shy, he isn’t afraid his name be known or his voice be heard.
Character Biography: Jaren was born in the city of Falkvard, his father not caring much about him. However, his mother and younger sister loved having him around. His father only saw poor Jaren as a way to gain money and glory, training him in the arts of war. Jaren never managed to pick up fighting, only doing average in swordfighting. His father began his training when Jaren was age 7. If Jarens father (Dredgen) didn’t like Jaren, he wanted the rest of the family dead. He ran the household, rarely giving out food, not giving good beds, and just not letting them have a comfortable life in general. Jarren was more privileged in his early years, sneaking food off to his mother and sister, who needed it desperately. This period lasted from when Jaren was 7 until when he was 14.
Jump forwards seven years. Dredgen has started to hate his wife and daughter more, with some of the hate glancing off to Jaren. Dredgen would stop feeding everyone else as much, while feeding himself more. He would continue trying to make Jaren a ruthless and efficient killer, but to no avail. Jaren was too kind, too compassionate, too giving. Jaren would never be able to understand why his father was so cruel until his fifteenth birthday. On this day, Jaren was told by his father that he was not loved, that he would never be, that he was Dredgen’s tool to wealth. Something here broke inside Jaren, and he changed. He thought everything his mother and sister told him was a lie, since he thought they loved him. He stopped handing them food, stopped talking to them. He took the dark path, towards corruption, the path Dredgen had walked so long ago.
Another 7 years would go by, in which Jarens little sister would fall sick and pass away. Dredgen seemed pleased with this, where Jarens mother would become a depressed, sickly, frame of the woman she once was. She eventually took her own life, leaving Jaren and his father. All in this one year, Dredgen would begin to make the house nicer, better food, good beds, a nice fireplace, and a few other commodities. Jaren was still heading down the dark path, losing his feeling towards all others, forgetting the compassion and caring that graced his heart for so long. He would learn the ways of war better now, as he could cause harm without the slightest bit of remorse. However, on his twenty-third birthday, everything changed for Jaren. Dredgen ordered him to kill an innocent, and bring the head back. Not having a caring heart anymore, he would set out to find someone for his father, the someone who would prove him in Dredgens’ eyes. He ended up finding a poor family, doing worse than his own when his father deprived them of money. They were all starving, begging for food, water, and money. Upon seeing this family, Jaren’s heart returned to him. He saw the pain he would cause the world through his actions if he went down this road any further, and he turned back. He went back to the road of honesty and compassion, of giving and love. He gave the family a large amount of money, and they would thank him for this. With this thanks, Jaren would see that the way to peace doesn’t rest in war, in total annihilation of those who disagree. He saw that the world would be a better place if he stepped up, cared, and helped those in need. He would return to his home and tell his father his findings and realizations. Upon hearing this, Dredgen would see that all he had done was for naught, that it had all been wasted. He would fly into a fit of rage and attempt to kill Jaren, with a simple beheading. However, Jaren was prepared for this. He would draw his own blade, and in self defense, try to subdue his father. Jaren only wanted to talk sense into Dredgen, but it didn’t go according to plan. Jaren held his blade to his father's’ throat after forcing him to the ground, but moved too quickly, the blade flying out of control. On that fateful day, Dredgen Ward would die, and Jaren would step on the path of redemption, without forgetting to help those in need, and give to those who have it worse than him.
Two years would pass after these events, in which Jaren would try to make up for his actions. He would also devote his free time to becoming cognizant of the world around him, spending hours on end in libraries, or just reading any book he could find. He seeks to enlighten the world, as well as bring peace, and he won’t stop until he dies or his goal is achieved.
(RP Scenario Responses)
#1. You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Response: Jaren would chase the child down, or at least try his best to. Using quick thinking and reflexes, not to mention an added height advantage, he would catch up to the boy and hold him still. He would ask how bad his family needed the money. If he thinks the boy answers honestly, he will either give him a large portion of it with a small lecture about rules, or take the coin pouch without giving the boy any, with a long lecture about proper manners, rules, and to ask if you needed something.
#2. You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Response: Jaren would try to help the wolf from the trap, after attempting to gain its trust. If he managed to get it free, he would get someone with medical knowledge to see if they could help the animal. Seeing past personal wealth, Jaren will always try to help those who need it, man or beast. If someone could aid the animal, he would hope that it doesn’t befall such bad luck again, then send it on it’s way.
Hello SnowboundOwl078, and thank you very much for you interest in Saphriel. The application you have written us is just dandy, and we're very much looking forward to seeing both you and Jaren on-server soon!
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): haybalebarn
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I’ve been roleplaying for around 8 years now. Starting out with mainly forum roleplay. Then I got minecraft, and I have 6-ish years of minecraft roleplay under my belt on a variety of different servers, including being staff on a few. Also recently gotten into tabletop roleplay games over the past few years, and have been consistently in a few groups for a year and a half now, including running some of my own games.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power gaming is the action of attempting to make your character as powerful as possible, without regards to realism. Your character is always the fastest, always the strongest, the best fighter and the best mage as the same time. This can be more subtle, like having your character always escape with minor wounds from major combats, but this is much more difficult to define.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Meta gaming is pretty easy to describe. It’s using out of character knowledge in character, be it from using information spoken in languages your character doesn’t understand to knowledge of advanced science from the real world to things talked about in out of character shot.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words:
Roleplaying is essentially the same as improvised acting. You take on the role of a character and all actions you perform and words spoken are through the guise of your character. Who they are, what they do, and the people they like may be completely different than who you are, but that’s a good thing!
----IC Info---- -Character name: Hay
-Character race: High Elf
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 33
-Character Occupation:
Wanderer, Traveler, Soul Searcher, you know the type, Jack of all trades but master of none
-Character description:
At first glance, it’s somewhat easy to mistake Hay for a human instead of an elf; standing at 5’10, he’s shorter than even your average human male is. He’d be somewhat skinny to be a human however, having a slender build standard for most elves. If the slender build isn’t enough to tip people off, the pointed ears poking out from his hair. His hair is a light, almost sandy blonde, falling about halfway to his shoulders, with bangs just long enough that he has to blow them out of his piercing blue eyes on occasion.
His clothes are a little bit less drab than you’d expect from a traveler like he claims to be. Instead of dirty brown clothes, he wears a heavy, bright blue shirt that matches the color of his eyes. He wears a belt with a variety of pockets and pouches on it. The most notable is a simple dagger in a sheath. His pants are simple, brown, canvas, and sturdy. He wears brown leather boots which match his brown leather gloves, nothing particularly special to look at besides the fact that they’re there.
-Character personality and traits:
Hay is a bit of a character. At first glance he may appear stoic, as he tends to act rather quiet and reserved when approaching new situations, but once he gets a feel for the situation this tends to fall away. He’s a very variable personality, prone to mood swings in a variety of directions and may appear a bit volatile if he’s encountered in a particularly swingy day. This isn’t to say that he’s mentally unstable, just quick to transition between emotional states.
There’s a few things that remain relatively consistent about his personality. He’s a very curious individual, he likes to explore and learn new things and meet new people in almost any mood he’s in. Coincidentally enough, despite his tendency to fade into the background in group situations, he’s a very social individual, liking to be around people at all times and generally very adept at reading people and situations. While his moods may be somewhat dark at times, he’s generally always willing to help people and need and tries to help people who he feels are in trouble.
Being raised in a relatively isolationistic community, Hay has some of the traits one would associate with that. Frankly put, he’s a bit racist towards anyone that isn't a human or a high elf, not by choice but by upbringing. He has a tendency to make insensitive statements, only to realize a few minutes later and apologize profusely after the damage is done. In the same way the community he was raised in was very anti-magic, not teaching their children about it at all. While he has since learned that magic exists, he often has a difficulty rationalizing it and an ingrained fear, making him wary and distrustful of magic users.
Finally, he has a fascination with Udero, finding great interest in those who worship the god. He tends to collect texts written about Udero, and sometimes quotes lines that he thinks would be fitting of a worshiper of Udero, despite not worshiping Udero himself.
-Character biography:
Hay grew up far away from the rest of the world. He never knew his true parents, and he never knew much about them. From his first memory, he had only ever had his human parents. Hay was raised in a small human village that consider itself distinct from the outside world. The main reason for their self-imposed isolation was their hatred of magic, something that was fairly normal everywhere else in the world. The word magic was forbidden to be uttered, let alone talked about. Magic was a tool of such destruction that even talking about it was believed to bring death down upon the head of the utterer. Yet whenever there were utterances of the word, Hay often found himself getting strange glances from the adults in the village, but he paid them no mind.
Being a small community has its benefits, but one of those benefits was not a large amount of kids the same age as yourself. This problem was further compounded by different rate of aging he had compared to the rest of the village. As such, he spent much his youth wandering the village, learning bits and pieces of various trades from the adults and playing on his own. As he hit his teenage-equivalent years though, he became friends with another teenager in the village, and the two became almost inseparable. Often, the two would wander outside the village, exploring the forest around. It was on one of these explorations that they found the cursed things.
They were two innocuous objects, half buried in the ground, a dull color, nothing special. When Hay picked up one of them, he felt sudden breeze rush through the area, but thought nothing of it. When Tarien touched hers, she found herself capable of achieving otherworldly feats. With a bit of concentration, she could make object appear to disappear, or to appear to float, or to seem to disappear entirely. Not for long, and not well, but she could do it, and it was wonderful. They explored this ability for hours, and being innocent not even realizing it was the dreaded magic that was talked about. After all, how could something so wondrous and beautiful be dangerous? When they finally made it back home that evening, Hay gushed to his parents about the amazing things that Tarien could do, and they nodded and smiled and laughed, and then he went to bed, a normal day with a wondrous occurrence.
He woke up to the sound of screaming coming from the village square. Awful, visceral screaming of a creature in wretched pain dancing above a cacophony of crackling flames. He ran out to the village square in confusion and panic, only to see his only friend being burned at the pyre as his mother, his father, the whole village looked on in stoic silence. He attempted to run up, to pull her down, but instead of freeing her from her bindings, he was pulled down and bound. He stared on in horror and confusion, the stench of burning flesh in the air as the screams died down. He watched in stunned silence as his parents walked to the hot fire and each took a coal. He began muttering in fear as they approached him, saying nonsense in an attempt to get them to stop, if only the words would come out.
When his parents finally reached him, they paused for a moment. His father stared down in judgement before kneeling down to whisper in Hay's ear. "I'm sorry, but magic usage is punishable by death. I'm glad you told us about her before the problem got out of hand. Unfortunately, you allowed yourself to be tempted by magic as well, and although you rejected it when it presented itself to you, you still used it, if only for a moment. And for that, you must be punished." Hay stared up at his parents in confusion, and then screamed in agony as they each placed a hot coal on the backs of his hands and walked away. He screamed in agony until the world went black.
The next morning, he left.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.:
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
As the young child took off with his coin purse, Hay blinked, confused. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed it, rather that he wasn’t expecting it. Oh right, he was in a city. Pick pockets were common in the city, weren't they. It was always something that made him do a double take, if he had been caught stealing as a child, the whole village would know and scorn him for a week. As he watched the child go, he began to follow after at a leisurely pace. More important than following them, he scanned the crowds for where they were going. After a few moments, he noticed the alleyway where the child seemed to be heading, another grubby child standing there and watching in apprehension. Instead of directly following the child, he headed to the alleyway entrance. The young boy before him stared up in fear, but Hay grabbed him before he could bolt. By the time the original pickpocket made it to the alley Hay was seated on the ground, lecturing the boy. As the girl stood stunned, he snatched the coinpurse out of her hand and motioned for her to stand before him as well.
“I don't know how long you've been doing this, and I'm certain you've had more experience with it than me, but if you’re going to be thieves, a few pointers. First, try to pick targets who can’t chase after you. Ideally, you want to be light enough on the touch that they don't notice. But if you aren't light enough on the touch, pick someone you can outrun, if you can't outrun them, they can probably catch you, and if they can catch you, you end up in this situation. Secondly, try to pick targets who actually have money worth stealing.” He smiles lightly and opens the coin pouch, flipping it upside down, two pathetic coins clinking onto the ground. He rolled his eyes as the children immediately snatched them up, but he didn’t reprimand them for it. Slowly he stood and scanned the crowd.
“Now, if you’re going to try and rob someone, pick them.” He points to a large man in rather ornate clothing, who for some reason didn’t seem to have a personal guard, just begging to be stolen from. “He should have a nice payday.”
He turned around, expecting the children to follow his gaze, but instead he just managed to watch them turn the corner with their prize of two coins. He blinks for a moment and sighs. “I suppose I should have expected children to be that shortsighted… Waste of coins.” He shrugged for a moment and moved back into the crowd, humming to himself as he went. What other fun could he find?
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
As he comes across the situation, Hay observes for a short amount of time. If that wolf was still moving it could hurt him, and that was dangerous. After being satisfied that it wouldn’t lash out at him, he quietly approaches with blank expression on his face. Poor creature was suffering, and its pups would die without their mother. He knew they were menaces, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. After all, it was just bad luck that she had been trapped here like this. Well, he had no time to be sentimental, he wasn’t about to let an animal suffer, from traps or starvation. Quietly, he picks up one of the puppies, takes it out of view from the others, and pulls out his dagger. He does it twice more before finishing off the mother. Then, he finds the best stick he can and begins to dig a shallow grave, burying the family after a few hours work. He had always been taught that if he was going to kill an animal, to at least treat it with respect. This was respect.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
-Magic Biography; Explain the reason you want your character to have magic through backstory application:
Magic is something that Hay doesn’t know how to deal with. He’s been taught his entire life that magic was evil, an unmentionable, something horrific and unnatural. Yet, his first experience with magic was a wonderful encounter, only for the results of that to traumatize him forever. As such, Hay is very uncomfortable around magic. He doesn’t know what to think of it. Everything tells him that he should hate it, but there’s still that small spark that was still in awe of it. As such, he tends to overreact whenever he encounters magic, often with wonder followed by hostility and coldness towards any magic user he may encounter.
Hay has a suspicion that he is capable of using magic, but this is something that he vehemently denies to both himself and others. This denial paired with how he was raised is the reason why he has such a strongly averse reaction to most magic users. If he admits that magic is not something inherently evil and corrupt, then he as to accept the fact that he can use it as well. That’s the kind of conflict that I enjoy. He tends to be a rather mood-swingy character as it is, so to see him fight with himself and others over his ability to use magic is what I want.
I’m planning on having all of his magical abilities be befitting of his personality, and when I think of his personality, I think of winds, ever changing, many different types and many different facets, no one wind staying the same for too long. As such, his magic is going to reflect that, starting off with wind magic, and probably branching off into any other elements one may find in a storm, like electricity, water, and ice. That assuming he’s convinced to develop his magic at all, which is certainly not decided yet.
So, why do I want Hay to have magic? Conflict, that’s why. It brings a point of interest to his character in how he will deal with this eventual realization. It also simply fits the character, without magic, he’s just a guy who has a rather variable personality that can go in many directions depending on his mood. With it, he’s the embodiment of the wind, switching from a pleasant breeze to a raging storm in the blink of an eye.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic (This should be at least one well-crafted paragraph):
Magic is a skill, like any other. That’s an important distinction. Magic is not a trait, it’s a skill. It’s something that must be trained, must be learned. It’s a trade or a craft. It takes a carpenter years to learn how to become a carpenter, and how much more complex is magic than carpentry? I’m willing to bet a fair amount. Not only that, magic is physically limited by your stamina to use magic, and it’s also limited by the power of the artifact used to channel magic. It should take months of time out of character for your character to learn magic to a competent level.
-Please give a description of the magic system in your own words:
First things first, while magic is learned, one must have an innate ability to cast magic.
Secondly, magic is divided into specializations. Each character can only learn a certain amount of specializations based on their race.
Thirdly, despite being hereditary, magic is a learned skill. It takes a lot of time a practice to cast any spell at all.
Fourthly, magic cannot be cast without using an artifact as a channel. Artifacts come in a variety of power levels, and each artifact is attuned with a specific specialization. Trying to cast magic of a type that isn’t your artifact’s specialization probably won’t work out very well for you.
-You are given a weak trinket of Air, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
You know what you can do with a small amount of Air magic? Breezes. And that’s fine, creating a breeze is fun. You can use it to mess with people’s hair, blow out candles, float feathers, and maybe even cause someone to stumble if you push it really close and don’t care about it blowing up in your face. Making artifacts blow up generally isn’t something you want to do.
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
Yes, I've played on a (..pirated) Minecraft server back in 2010, as well as RPed in other games. I'm usually very laid-back and wander alone, keeping out of conflicts.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Playing in a way that will make you as powerful as possible, and entirely disregarding the realism of your actions. Using glitches for your advantage is a good example of power-gaming.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Simply using knowledge your character doesn't have.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words:
In-game acting. You play as a character, making your own story in the world.
----IC Info----
-Character name:
Ayorall (Ayo/Ayor for short)
-Character race:
Human
-Character gender:
Male
-Character age:
24
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. This more or less helps us to better understand your characters starting skill set):
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Ayorall usually wears clothing typical for an explorer - Sturdy boots, loose jacket and pants, either a hat or hood to protect himself from sunlight, and wears a rugsack. On the rare occasion of visiting someone, or being invited to a feast, he wears beautiful Nobleman's attire, which is one of the few things he inherited.
He does not stand out very much in his appearance, although he has a better-than-average facial structure. Ayorall's frequent travels and expeditions made him very fit and strong. His eyes are light brown, and his hair blonde and long, although not particulary dense.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
There are few things that would make Ayorall stop whatever he's currently doing - a very stubborn person, which is both an advantage and a weakness of his. He is also notably curious and adventurous, always needing to see what's behind the next hill. Although he fancies himself as a ''treasure hunter'', he hasn't had very much luck so far, the most valuable item he found yet being a golden clock. Ayorall isn't a particulary social person, and always travels alone - but he has no problems socializing when he's in the mood to, especially with like-minded individuals (and pretty women). Feasting is something he likes to do from time to time - and the stories he has from his travels always fascinate the crowd, even though they might not be entirely true..
Ayorall doesn't care much for the gods - although he is sligthtly interested in Behmos, the ruler of Hell, as well as the dimension itself. He often wonders what riches it may hold, but realizes the chances of even seeing it yet alone looting and not being killed by the Hellish creatures are impossibly low. He has a deep fascination of the living dead.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Ayorall was born in Barkamsted, a grandchild of a formerly rich couple that had to leave almost everything they had in Falkvard when it was devastated. Both of his parents hail from the beautiful city and have colorful memories from their childhood. Ayor, however, never had a chance to experience a normal childhood. Ever since he was a small child, he heard stories of life before the great war, how much freedom there was, and the carefree lives most people had. Poor Ayor and other children had to grow up surrounded by fear in the overcrowded town of Barkamsted.
Growing up, he had to face even more challenges. All work other than joining the military was taken, meaning he as well as his parents had little to live by. His parents ended up selling most of the valuables brought by Ayor's grandparents, but thankfully just a few things were saved - for example, the expensive Nobleman's attire.
His hard childhood and the stories he heard made him hungry for freedom, and combined with his natural curiosity, made him who he is today - an adventurer who wants to experience something he never had a chance to, and depending on how lucky he is - maybe become famous, or change the world.. for better or worse.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
.I run after him. After catching him, I ask why he stole from me. If it was for his just for his enjoyment, the addicting feeling of adrenaline - I take back my money, and take him to authorities. If his reason is good enough, however - maybe he's poor, or really wants to buy a gift for someone very close to him, be it his parents, a friend, or the pretty girl he dreams about, I will give him a portion of my coins - but not the entire purse, as I need the money myself and stealing is the wrong way to solve his problem. I also make sure he's not lying to my face.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
With some hestitation and care, I free the wolf. While I know the money would help me quite a bit, I simply enough can't make myself kill a defenseless wolf who is obviously in a lot of pain in front of her children. Finally free, the mother and her pups walk away.. I leave, with some conflict inside myself. I could have selled the furs to get some much-needed coins, and helped the peasants, and I'm still not sure if I made the right decision.
As I read this character application I was able to spot many flaws. The most noticeable one being that you hadn't followed the application format. You avoided a great deal of OOC and IC knowledge to allow us determine what you knew of RP. Though after this I'd like to run over the lore violations here. Lets start from the first lore error to the last in your biography.
There is no little to know reason that explains how or why your mother was attacked by a vampire. Though an obvious answer could state that it was for the blood, there is no detail to state anything other than the fact some vampire had the unfortunate encounter with her. Next you mention living in a state park. Though there isn't a single state park that Lord Barkam controls in any of his cities. Third was the old library. If you were speaking about the library in Barkamsted, it was only recently that the Barkamsted library was stocked with any new documents. Results on vampires would be slim to none as they have been a fairly hidden thing from the society of Barkamsted in recent years. Lastly let us speak about these random werewolves you mention finding. Being a werewolf is information that should never be announced to anybody, nor would their senses allow them to ignore a boy after they created a ghost town out of the others.
You may want to consider some heavy modifications to this application. Though if you do so, we will surely review it again.
Hello my old friend, it's good to see a familiar name. I hope you've been well through all the years.
While absolutely excellent, your application does not take Elven Lore fully into account. There are sparing few splinter communities and there are none that eschew magic so completely as you have indicated. We're more than willing to insert new cultures and new communities, but this goes too far and away from Elven culture to be manageable. If you changed your character to be human the app as is would be accepted. Another consideration is that most every outlying community was destroyed during the only recently ended Pact War.
Either change the race or alter the application. Elves simply enjoy their magic too much to have this kind of culture supported on a communal scale. Perhaps on a family level, but not as widespread. Alternatively, you could have them live in a largely human community that has such views, that would also be acceptable. Please decide and post again
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When I am dead, I hope it may be said: His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.
Mind that you will not yourself be of noble blood, you will have just inherited the attire. Excellent inclusion of the Lore. We would normally prefer a more extensive biography, but you put great emphasis on the character himself and so we have confidence that you will fit into the community.
Hello my old friend, it's good to see a familiar name. I hope you've been well through all the years.
While absolutely excellent, your application does not take Elven Lore fully into account. There are sparing few splinter communities and there are none that eschew magic so completely as you have indicated. We're more than willing to insert new cultures and new communities, but this goes too far and away from Elven culture to be manageable. If you changed your character to be human the app as is would be accepted. Another consideration is that most every outlying community was destroyed during the only recently ended Pact War.
Either change the race or alter the application. Elves simply enjoy their magic too much to have this kind of culture supported on a communal scale. Perhaps on a family level, but not as widespread. Alternatively, you could have them live in a largely human community that has such views, that would also be acceptable. Please decide and post again
Oh hey Rajaat, still using the same avatar I see! Been a few years, hasn't it?
Anyways, I was already considering changing the backstory to have him growing up in a human community before you posted the feedback, so seems we were thinking along the same lines. Changed parts of his personality, backstory, and first roleplay sample to reflect this. It was all pretty minor, mainly to change his sheltered-racism to not include humans as well as High Elves, and of course the alterations to refer to him growing up in a human community. Think I got everything, but let me know if there's anything more that needs to be changed!
As for the issue of most small communities being destroyed in the pact wars recently, I never particularly stated when he left home, so I'm certain it's feasible that it happened before that, or some other explanation that can be made. I'm not going to really go into the particulars unless you feel that's necessary.
Oh hey Rajaat, still using the same avatar I see! Been a few years, hasn't it?
Anyways, I was already considering changing the backstory to have him growing up in a human community before you posted the feedback, so seems we were thinking along the same lines. Changed parts of his personality, backstory, and first roleplay sample to reflect this. It was all pretty minor, mainly to change his sheltered-racism to not include humans as well as High Elves, and of course the alterations to refer to him growing up in a human community. Think I got everything, but let me know if there's anything more that needs to be changed!
As for the issue of most small communities being destroyed in the pact wars recently, I never particularly stated when he left home, so I'm certain it's feasible that it happened before that, or some other explanation that can be made. I'm not going to really go into the particulars unless you feel that's necessary.
That it has! You'll love this server.
Accepted
The changes you have made have been deemed acceptable. We only pressed about the village when it was an Elven one, as for such a community to possibly exist it would have had to have been in areas that the Pact had been through. Your changes make that concern obsolete.
We look forward to seeing your lovely character in action.
ACCEPTED
Though I did enjoy the length of your application last time, you did rid the parts which seem to mess around with the lore. I must say that this is much more lackluster now, though it wont hinder you since I have seen apps that aren't particularly greater in length and lacked proper detail that still get accepted. Anyways, welcome aboard!
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Zaichic
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): Would rather not share, sorry eh.
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes, I currently play on another roleplay server called Lord of he Craft and I have played Pathfinder (it's like D&D) with a friend multiple times.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: You force your actions upon others or your character's actions are over powered/ not realistic (sometimes including that character's traits).
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: When you use information in roleplay that you did not achieve through roleplay, but information that you obtained through OOC means.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you play a persona/character that you or someone else has created and playing that persona not as yourself, but as the persona itself.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Nerida
-Character race: Human
-Character gender: Female
-Character age: 12
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. This more or less helps us to better understand your characters starting skill set): Growing up on a small farm, Nerida doesn't have many skills that go outside of maintaining and/or taking care of a house and farm. Before her mother passed away she was able to learn how to cook for herself, to sew, and other sorts of skills women would usually perform. Her father taught her to tend to the animals and to chop wood. Having no wild ambition or dream to pursue, Nerida plans to stick with what she knows and just be able to sustain herself.
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Nerida developed at a younger age, is a larger girl, with thicker hips and thighs and she stands at 5' 1". She has dark brown wavy hair that reaches down to her lower back, deep brown eyes that almost resembles a dark chestnut color, and long thick eye lashes that make her eyes look large and wide. Nerida's complection is quite fair, but her cheeks are rosy and her lips bright in color and full. Her skirt is old and torn, obvious that she hasn't been looked after properly in a while. The skirt hangs about loosely over her under dress and underbust corset. The under dress's sleeves slightly hang off her shoulders exposing her chest, collar bone and a bit of cleavage (which she constantly tries to pull up to hide).
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Nerida is generally a shy and quiet person, but when around good company and happy people she opens up and loves to have a laugh and be social with her companions. Being a bit larger she isn't very athletic or fast, but still able to run when the situation calls for her to do so. She tries her best to be kind and understanding, as well as polite. Nerida will never speak out of turn or place, staying quiet until she's addressed or if she needs to asking something of someone. Her voice is sweet and high pitched, so high in fact that when she whistles she sounds like a bird. Whistling and humming comforts her, so when she's alone where no one can hear her, she likes to hum or whistle a tune. Nerida is a very tidy person, she likes to keep things clean and neat including herself. Whenever she's dirty with mud and dust or there's a stain in her clothing she feels uneasy and has the impulse to clean until she cleans what ever it is that's not to her standard.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Nerida was born on a small farm, outside of Falkvard, to mother Edith and father Henrey. Being their only child, Nerida was their pride and joy. They loved and adored her with all their heart and were sure to let her know of that. The pair were humble farmers, living on a small plot of land far from other homes or farms. So granted, Nerida didn't have many friend growing up, but she didn't mind too much. She was kept busy at their farm helping her parents with chores and the every day drill. Life was happy and simple, even when there were downs they always found ways to cheer themselves up.
The small family lived in peace even when the world around them seemed chaotic. Unfortunately this soon changed when two strange men came to visit their humble home. It was a dark stormy night, the rain was heavy and the air freezing. Edith and Henrey were sleeping peacefully in their room while Nerida sat out in the common room in front of the fire place. Suddenly she heard a loud knocking at the door which startled her. She quickly spins around to look at the window by the door, but since it was so dark she could barely make out a face. She stands to her feet and rushes to her parents' room to wake them. She shakes her father, repeating over and over in a panicked voice "Dad! Dad! There's someone at the door. Dad there's someone knocking at the door!". Tired and groggy the father lazily stands to his feet, his wife sitting up soon after with Nerida in her arms, trying to calm her down. Henrey steps out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him to see who would knock on the door so late at night. As the mother held Nerida in her arms, she whispered to her "Everything's alright, daddy's going to take care of it." BAM! A loud crash is heard from outside the room. The door is door is broken down and it sounds like something fell to the floor with a thud. Quickly Edith stands to her feet and shoves Nerida under the bed, shushing her for her to be quiet. Soon after the bedroom door is broken down as well. Nerida watches the men walk into the room and around the bed, grabbing her mother as she screams and pleads for mercy. They soon bash her head with some sort of blunt object, the sound of her skull breaking open echos through the room. She falls to ground, her body limp and lifeless. Nerida, now holding her mouth closed with her hands, watches in horror as her mother's blood gush out onto the floor around he. Some of the blood even spreading underneath the bed, inching closer and closer to Nerida before she too lies in a pool of her mother's blood. The two men search about the room, taking anything of value and throwing it into a large sack. The sack now full, they exit the bedroom to look through the common room. A few crashes are heard, flower pots perhaps, and soon after the two men leave the house leaving the once cozy and peaceful home in ruin.
After those events, Nerida never could fully trust someone. Witnessing her mother's death and seeing her father's face bashed into his skull, she couldn't stay at that house any longer. With the farm in ruin and all the animals dead, she had nothing left for her there. Emptiness and despair soon take over her, her thoughts infected with darkness. Nerida travels about and around Falkvard, looking for anything to give her meaning again. Now homeless and an orphan she decides to enter the city, hoping she could start a new life there.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed. Being a little slow, Nerida doesn't really notice or seem to care that the child just ran past her. After wandering about looking at the few stalls that haven't closed, she notices that when her hand brushes up against her side that something's missing. Looking down she sees that her coin purse is missing. She panics, rushing about and backtracking to see if she had dropped it anywhere. With all the stalls now closed and the sun hanging low in the sky, Nerida is determined to find her coin purse. Now being mentally and physically exhausted, she sits down near one of the stands. Her back against the side and her head leaned to the side, she thinks back how she could've lost something so important. Suddenly she feels her heart sink, realizing that it was probably the child that bumped into her earlier that took the coin purse. Worn out and feeling hopeful she decides to give up her search, her eyes start to close on their own and soon after she falls into a deep sleep.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population. Seeing the mother wolf injured, she thinks back to the violent attack that took her own mother's life. Feeling that emptiness where you usually feel a mother's love made Nerida's heart ache as a lump grew in her throat. Knowing that if she didn't act fast, these pups would also feel that emptiness and soon after die. She slowly approaches the wolf, carefully and quietly to not scare her or worry her. "It's ok," She says in a quiet and soothing tone "I'm here to help." Finally close enough to kneel down and reach the bear trap, she carefully looks it over to see how to open it. Once finding the spring that closed the track, she presses down on it with one hand while pulling the jaws of trap apart with her other. Barely pulling it wide enough for the wolf to pull her leg, the wolf does so quickly. She stands up and starts limping away as her pups follow her. Letting go of the trap, Nerida stands back to her feet and walks back to find the path she was on. Along the way she thinks back to her deed with a small smile. Whether it was right or wrong she didn't care, she was just happy to know that those pups didn't lose their world.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
https://gyazo.com/1bf11670600fa7afab92bedf3fe1b905
https://gyazo.com/8d880c278bf7d4014cb26cce0ddf54b2
Pending
Hello Zaichic and thank you so very much for your interest in our server! Your writing style and storytelling are both lovely and your application was a pleasure to read. Most everything you have presented is a-OK and good to go, save for one detail which must be spoken about. Please consider this concern carefully, as it is meant to protect both you and other players.
In your application you have listed Nerida as being just twelve years old. This in itself is not a problem. However the description that you have written for her has an emphasis on sexualized aspects of the character, namely her impressive bosom. These two qualities independent of each other are not an issue. In fact, having a somewhat developed younger character is also not outright wrong. The issue lies with the wording, context, and emphasis. Here in Saphriel we do not support the sexualization of children.
We ask that you please either bump her age up substantially, or redirect the emphasis of her description to other aspects of her being. When you have updated your application please let us know, because we are very much looking forward to having you on-server. Have a wonderful day!
ACCEPTED
This application was accepted after our skype call. Thank you very much for your cooperation in editing Nerida's description
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Broken_sky
(this is subject to change. I've had a hack attempt on this account and may be forced out of it eventually.)
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): grz_art
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? I do in fact have prior role-play experience; Though I do not know what be a sufficient example. Here's one of the last posts of one of the RPs I was in on these forums some years ago; I doubt my writing has improved much since then.
Tirsen named the plant as he saw it, making sure his memory was still sharp. He bent over and dug his fingers into the soil around the plant, loosening the dirt around the plant's deep roots. He gently pulled it up from the ground; the long, red, subterranean branches that gave the plant its name coming forth. He brushed the plant clean, and gently tucked it into his bag.
Looking up into the sky, Tirsen realized he did not have enough time to continue searching for reagents, so he settled for what he had and began the return into the city.
---------------
"Which way to Leoch's?" Tirsen repeated, over and over; and again again he went unnoticed. The people, either too busy or too racist to give him the time of day, would not answer his simple question. He attempted to read several signs posted in hopes of some direction, but after so long he still did not know how to read well enough to determine what "Leoch" would look like written down. So he continued to ask around, hoping someone would show mercy. In the back of his mind he regretted leaving the city at all; he should have stayed to keep following the man. Tirsen was too embarrassed to have mentioned his lack of literacy to his bandit companions, not that he thought they could read either; but now he was certainly stuck.
Finally, a young boy pointed in the direction of the inn, much against his mother's wishes, who quickly snatched him up and ran off. But Tirsen had enough to work with. He drifted in the general direction of the inn long enough to catch wind of the smell of alcohol, vomit, and sweat. He calmly walked into the establishment and braced himself.
As he expected, the patrons of the bar quieted themselves for a moment, staring at him. Probably wondering what he was doing there, and where the rest of his clothes were. He stood there and stared back at them briefly, then sat himself down where it was empty. He glanced around the room and noticed the man from before, along with lizardmen and that...odd lynxwoman. He decided against approaching them, since they seemed to be amidst conversation. Instead he decided he would wait for his bandit friends and let them do all the talking...if they ever managed to show up.
Just in case they wouldn't, Tirsen went over in his mind ways to prove himself for the man and seem worthy to be taken along in the quest to claim the bounty.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is when someone is behaving "unrealistically" or otherwise uncharacteristically for the purpose of "winning" or achieving their desired goals, instead of allowing events to unfold naturally or realistically. For example, always going for the killing blow in combat, or always being able to avoid capture. It is unrealism for the sake of being right or exceptional. And it's rather childish.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using OOC knowledge IC; it is taking information that you, as a player, are aware of and applying it to your character. For example, understanding a language that is not common that your character is not learned in, or using information you read through the Lore that your character would have no real way of knowing.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: Roleplaying is the nearly lost art of storytelling and character development from multiple authors, each one writing and creating from the vantage of his own character. Like an unscripted play where every actor is a playwright, it is fully adopting the character you have created in a created world, and allowing the genuine interactions between other characters and the world around them to develop into its own unique story and style of gameplay.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Veras Vayrderoth
-Character race: Half-Elf (Human and Dark-Elf)
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 24
-Character Occupation: Hunter / Poacher (this occupation is a ruse to divert attention)
-Character description: Veras appears more dark-elf than human; his complexion is an almost purplish-grey, his eyes are a reddish brown, and his hair is bleach white. He stands at approximately 5'10, with a thin but lean physique. His humanity manifests itself most innately: he does not possess the same low-light vision or metabolism that his mother had; he is much more like an average man in prowess and ability.
He keeps his hair cut long; not that it is seen often. His typical outfit consists of cloaks and hoods, and very often face masks, to shield his face as much as possible from the elements of magic that mages would hurl at his head to blind or scar. He is always dressed ready for battle, with leather armor, boots, and strappings both light and flexible; with little regard for protection from weather. He retains a sword given to him by his father, used by the elder during his time in the Hunters' Guild, and a bow given him by his mother; a weathered remnant of a time long past.
-Character personality and traits: Veras is a stoic man; hardened by the training and experiences he endured during childhood. His ultimate drive is one of a very skewed perception of justice and religion. He exists to persecute magic. His father, a madman, instilled this in him, and he would show no remorse over the corpse of a mage of any age or race. His hatred is intense and his purpose is clear, but in his own mind, he does all of this out of duty and service to Aderoth; a god usually attributed to healing rather than death. His beliefs are thus cultish and specific to his family (and whatever madmen would believe his words). He is also thus a very religious man, venerating Aderoth and deifying angels. He sees the act of magic persecution as a service to Aderoth, and as a "healing of the land."
Outside of these inexplicable beliefs, however, Veras would not be considered as mad as his father. He is calculating and practical, perhaps, but not without mercy and goodness to others. His strong religious convictions mean that he is kind and generous to the common man, but in the absence of a smile and without a need for thanks. On a personable level, he is reserved, seemingly always focused on his mission. Internally, however, he struggles with doubt; plagued by the memory of his forgotten sister, a mage slain by his brother's hand in the sight of their father. Sometimes, it would appear as though he buries himself in his work and excuses his actions with religion in an attempt to bury her memory.
Lastly, Veras has a love for book-knowledge. He has collected numerous tomes and holy scrolls and will pay dearly for any writings pertaining to Aderoth. He has been known to write himself, though mostly for documentation of his exploits and travels.
-Character biography:
Blood is everything.
In order to understand the man that Veras has become, one must understand the heritage of his blood. It started years ago, with the unheeded march of the Pact. Forced to flee Manadh Calad, a Dark-elven woman sought succor in the city of Barkamsted, a refugee from the raging war. On her way into town she came upon a young human man, shouting on about Hunters and recruitment. She didn't hear his words, only his lovely voice. She often whispered that they two were fated to meet there. He was young and she was forward, and neither of them had care for the stigmas placed upon such relationships; war gives way to recklessness. And unbeknownst to her, he was a man of war and devotion, in service to the Hunter's Guild for which he had become a recruiter; the old men of the Guild wanted a younger face to attract more younger faces, so he never saw real battle, but he was trained in their ways and taught their secrets.
Years passed and battles were waged, and a time came when whispers of the fabled Blighted Weapons reached the Hunters' ears. Whether devotion or madness drove him, none know, but he became so obsessively devout to Aderoth, and to light and purity, that it became this lowly Hunters' self-proclaimed mission to find these artifacts: not for use, but destruction. He began to ramble on upon the evil of the forbidden magic that formed them, and of the evil of all magic (a belief either propagated by his Dark-elf lover, or perhaps the belief that drew him to her). In the last years of his life he shut himself and his lover up in their home, and while they dutifully observed the law they were scarcely seen or heard from again. In seclusion he created his own dichotomy of religion, a cultish understanding of magic as being the antithesis of light and holiness (despite the fact that holy magic exists; a colloquial "grey area" of the madman's own headcanon), and in seclusion he taught this knowledge to his sons.
Veras was not the eldest. His elder brother was Verildar, whom Veras did not truly know. He was given the name Vayderoth, in honor of Aderoth, and instructed in the art of the hunt as his father knew. After Veras was born, he remembers that Verildar would come home many a night with a trinket in hand: the trophy of a different kind of hunt. Veras only understood this truth when his younger sister was born. At a young age, Verildar held some sort of trinket close by her, a ritual that he supposed that both brothers had undergone when they were too young to remember. One by one, a series of trinkets were held to her, and at the last, it glowed and sparked. She had manifested a talent for magic. After a moment of silence, Verildar killed the young girl with his own hands, as their father watched and was made proud. Veras was too young to understand and screamed and cried, but this family-cult assured him that their sister had become an abomination and a blight; the curse of the world. One night soon after Verildar did not come home, and the vigil to Aderoth lasted a week after his death; reportedly at the hands of a master mage.
Veras' duty became all the more clear that day. He has come to understand magic as a blight itself, whether it is used for good or for evil. It alone is the reason for the cracks between hell and earth. Veras has adopted his father's hatred of Bothimir, equaled only by a hatred for Udero who keeps Aderoth and Behmos in balance. Shrines to these "false" gods are desecrated in Veras' sight, as is the life of any would-be mage, as he now travels to and fro seeking to end the lives of the next would-be arcanists, under the guise of a poacher selling game. Veras has sworn an oath by Aderoth to deliver holy and pure justice, whether or not the common folk understand his goals, and to never forget the sacrifice Verildar made to keep the world safe from evil; a sacrifice paid in blood.
Blood is everything.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
"You rotten little..."
Veras muttered in Elvish under his breath as he realized what had just occurred. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he pounced and began to pursue the child through the markets. The chase was natural; instinctive. The prey was different; perish the thought at considering the child such, but in its own way, the cat-and-mouse game they played was its own kind of hunt. Without a second thought, Veras whispered a silent prayer to Perities; not for the grace of truly hunting the boy, but the grace of catching him. Though in his mind he understood that he was simply retrieving his purse, Veras soon began to experience the all-too familiar flashes that came with the chase;
With each step he saw the terrorized faces of young mages, looking back at him in horror as they realized their fate. With each market stand that made wind as he rushed past, he heard the cries of the arcanist as they struggled to conjure some spell to defend themselves with. Suddenly, he was no longer pursuing a young thief. He was the witcher, and the child the monster; he the huntsman, and the child the prey. His eyes narrowed, his stride expanded, his gait quickened as he tightened his limbs and became like a deer galloping through the forest of stalls and stands. And now, he was upon his prize.
He reached forth and snatched the child by his garb, yanking back with enough force to tear the cloth. As the child fell, he spilled the coin in every direction. His eyes met Veras', and a familiar terror his countenance. The child was a young girl. Veras had taken the life of innocence before, though to call a mage innocent was a foreign notion; but never could he bring himself to bring judgement on the young girls. They were too much like...her. The one he lost to evil. The one taken from him, just as he had taken from others in the name of Good. In the eyes of the young thief, Veras saw his sister. Her cold and lifeless corpse staining the ground with the pestilence of magic; her blood redeeming man of sin.
His vision ended, and the child had gone. A crowd gathered as Veras stood motionless over the pile of coin, and a beggar crept ever closer to try and take some for himself. Veras knelt down and gathered what he could before turning to go. To hide.
To forget.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
"And so," Veras muttered in the Elvish tongue, "The mighty hunter becomes the prey."
He knelt down beside the injured creature, and it snarled; unable to discern his motives. Truthfully, he could do no better. He simply did his best to assess; could the creature survive? Probably. But that would require more effort than he had to give. The likelihood is that the creature would die; the mighty hunter felled by man's poor attempt to be like her.
The animal yelped in pain, and the pups around her barked and howled, one of them gnawing at Veras' boot.
"Your time has come, hunter," he whispered to the wolf, "rest from your chase."
With one swift motion he drew his sword and plunged it, with both hands on the hilt, into the creature's eye. It gave a final shriek before curdling, twitching as its nerves reacted to the final moments of death. Immediately, the pups viciously attacked Veras, and he had no choice. He knew that they were but protecting their caretaker, but they were no hunters of their own that they could withstand him, or the wilds of the woods, alone.
With three twists of his wrists, they all lay in the grass, lifeless. Veras carefully undid the bear trap holding the creature's body, and he skinned it for its pelt. He took no pleasure in the act, but saw the befitting cycle represented by hunter and hunted. He slung the fur over his shoulders, saying a prayer to Aderoth to accept the hunters' souls as he carried his earnings into the village. In a way, the she-wolf served a higher purpose. Her skin added to his guise so that his mission could continue unnoticed; and in her own way, she was helping rid the world of its gravest sin.
Or so he convinced himself.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: xJazzyCreeperx
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): N/A
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes. been on some role-play servers such as ARK Realms, Bastronull: Reign of Lords (R.I.P) and a few others.
-
Define Power-gaming in your own words: Basically making a character that goes beyond the laws of psychics to try and over power other players or try to out do every basic rule of role-play.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using any form of knowledge (that was not previously know by a person in character) given outside the role-play to take advantage of or use against a player inside role-play.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: A form of speaking that allows people to express a certain character or action that they may or may not be able to perform in real life OR to act out or tell a story or an action with great detail in writing or some from of non-verbal speech.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Nephiah Dromlyn
-Character race: Dark Elf
-Character gender: Female
-Character age: 27
-Character Occupation: Jeweler/Craftsman of small metal and wooden objects.
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Standing a little over 5'6 and slender with a a pear shaped body her hips being a LITTLE bigger than her shoulders Nephiah was the shortest in her family but in her eyes that just meant she was the fastest and sneakiest. Her skin has a faded dark grayish-purple tint to match her blood red eyes and her almost jet black hair that hangs gently below her shoulders but is mainly kept up using he mothers pendant she had remastered into a hair clip, she also has a small streak of dark grey hair that hangs from her face, the grey hair is a family trait passed to her from her female side of the family.
Nephiah is one of the few women of her family that does not wear some form dress or skirt, she typically borrowed her brothers slacks along with his old hunting shirt their mother had made for him for his first trip out hunting with their father to hide the female curves she seemed to hate. Her feet were not like the rest of her they were worn and a bit cracked from the years she ran around bare-footed with her brother as children but she took a small pair of almost new leather bound boots when her mother insisted she 'at least try to dress like a lady' for her. She would occasionally wear some form of necklace or bracelet she had made as a teenager from the scraps of metal, jewels and ore her father had given to her from his armory.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Nephiah has a very odd personality she was always the out going, spontaneous, giggly girl growing up until she experienced something that changed her life (see biography). As she grew her personality becoming increasingly dull as she became like every other widowed woman, she did nothing but what she thought she was supposed to do: bathe, work, eat, sleep, repeat. Looking for more in her life Nephiah returned to crafting small trinkets from scrap metal she had either stolen or 'borrowed' from the locals. Nephiah found the more reclusive dark men to be the most attractive since she herself was a dark spirited recluse.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Growing up Nephiah had a great childhood, she had a loving mother a hardworking father and a stubborn but strong brother. From the day she could remember she was always in her fathers shop watching him make what she believed was the best forged armor, weapons and trinkets in town and maybe even the world. Sometimes, if she had been good that day and done all of her chores, her father would let her hold the hilt of a sword as he gave it the final touches which was always his famous signature, a small flower on the end end of a knife, he has always told her the symbol represented the beauty of death and that some day he would die and she would have to carry on his work. Nephiah was always picked on by the other girls for wearing her brothers clothes teasing her for many years calling her a boy, a pig, a worm just because she did not want to wear those tight fancy dresses or skirts.
Some years had passed and eventually the girls in her town forgot about her as the economy lowered in thus lowering the amount of customers her father got for his shop. Her family quickly dove into poverty and her father had to quit the job he loved, the job he cherished to become a fisherman working for a group of men that demanded so much from him threatening him and his family if he did not make the cut for the day. Nephiah was always afraid that her father would not return home, her mother assured her that her father was more than capable of handling himself, that he was a strong hardworking man and that he would not give up because he had us. She was wrong...
The man at the door was her uncle a giant sobbing mess as her mother held it in until she closed the door falling to her knees, the moment would never fade from Nephiahs mind, the day she found out her father died was the day she herself died inside. His funeral was all to quick, leaving an empty feeling in her gut and an empty seat at the table, she went days without eating and her brother had not been seen since they had been told their father passed. She had half a thought that her bother was probably now dead as well, knowing him he went after the men at the fishery to give them a piece of his mind not knowing or caring about the possible dangers of doing so. Nephiah left home shortly after the return of her brother, her mother did not even give so much as a peep as Nephiah stood at her mothers bedroom door with her belongings, turning around and heading out the door she gave her bother one last smile before she shut the front door never seeing them again.
Adult hood hit Nephiah like a rock she had to grow up on the streets and as a woman it was hard to find safe places to sleep at night, during the day she would wake up and clean herself at the local baths and then spend the day stealing coin purses to buy food from the market. One day she had stolen from a short husky woman that turned to her before she even got close and grabbed Nephiahs arm and dragged her away from the market place, the woman swung her threw a wooden door into a small empty room and raised her hand but not her temper the woman's voice rang a loud high pitched yell as Nephiah looked at the ground,
"How dare ye' ladeh yeh almost gave me a heardy-tack",
The accent was new and strange to her she had never seen or heard someone like this woman before, she unknowingly began to stare at the stranger until the women belted a loud,
"What yeh be starin at youngin? Outa beat the **** out yeh, yew lot ain't never seen a Dwarf have yeh ?"
Giving a quick denial shake of the head Nephiah apologized to the lady and explained why she had tried to steal from the woman, breaking down into tears the stranger took her in and offered Nephiah a small job to pay off for the gold she stole from the locals. The bond between the strange woman and Nephiah grew a little before the woman headed back to her homelands leaving her in charge of a small baking shop that over much time and effort she had turned into a den for herself and very small space for her metal works that she grew herself into for many years.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Nephiah turns around quickly as she sees the small hand flinging past he the small basket of apples she help falling quickly to the ground as she darted off after the child, she knew he had gotten a good head start on her but she hoped she could outsmart him with a sneak attack by taking an ally way to try and meet up with him on the other side. She slid down the ally like butter on bread and sprinted quickly around the small building, as she turned the corner she smashed into a tall man bouncing off him like a bouncy ball on hardwood floor, her rear end met the gravel hard and she yelled a loud sorry as she quickly got to her feet looking around. Nephiah sighed angrily and asked the man if he had seen a small boy with a blue-ish leather coin pursethe man slowly shook his head no. She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head before walking back down the ally she had just came from with a slight devilish grin and a chuckle she muttered , 'Hope he uses that on somethin good'
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Looking over the injured wolf Nephiah slowly bent down and turned her body to each side as she glanced around the woods, looking back at the wolf she unbuckled the small canteen she kept fastened to her belt and opened it. The mother wolf not growing at her was a good sign it meant she had seen people before but probably been chased or scared away every time, Nephiah raised her hand slowly to the wolfs face watching her very closely and let the mother wolf sniff her hand once before she poured a bit of water onto her hand placing it in front of the wolfs muzzle stunned as the mother wolf took a few laps of the water from her hand.
Nephiah nodded to the wolf knowing she had to save this wolf so she turned to the trap and drizzled a bit of the water over the wolfs wound so that she could see the damage. Closing the canteen and returned it to her belt before looked over the old trap noticing it was quite flimsy for a trap and probably was made to capture the pups instead, slowly moving her feet to each side of the trap she placed her feet on the two metal feet of the trap gripping the teethe of the trap with her hands and arching her back she used her upper body strength to slowly pry the two teeth apart as she clenched hers, the years of hard work she had put in finally come to use. Opening the trap just slightly enough for the wolf to give one last burst of energy to pull her leg from the trap Nephiah made sure the wolf was free before releasing the teeth letting the small gap between them snap back together. Nephiah stood up and grabbed the trap looking at the wolf as she looked at her, Nephiah walked over to the wolf leaning down once more as she torn off the right sleeve of her shirt tying it around the wolfs wounded leg and watched as the mother wolf limped her way over to her pups giving them all reassuring licks as Nephiah stood there for a bit before taking off with the trap.
ACCEPTED
Marvelous, simply marvelous. This is an exemplar application and future applicants would do well to take lesson from it. Broken_Sky, you have created a fun, unique, interesting character that will surely drive roleplay and create interest. Your storytelling and inclusion of server lore is phenomenal. We absolutely cannot wait to see you on-server.
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
Pending
Hello xJazzyCreeperx, and thank you very much for your wonderful application. This is just about good to go, with one minor detail barring you from entry.
According to our dark-elf lore, the only color eyes that full blooded dark-elves may posses is red. In the following quote you have listed Nephiah's eye color as silver, which is contradictory to that information.
The following link to our dark-elven lore has been provided to you for ease of access.
http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/darkelves
Please let us know when you have updated your application, because we're very much looking forward to having you on-server.
Application updated ^-^
Whitelist Application
IGN: SnowboundOwl078
Skype:None, but if you want me to make one I can and will!
Past RP Experience: I have done RP in Minecraft before, but not in any other sites or games. I have spent several days worth of playtime on the Aethier and Eurasia Machina server, about 5 days on each. (Not 5 different days, as in 5 sets of 24 hours).
Powergaming: Powergaming is where one would make an action without giving the person whom the action is being directed to, to react accordingly. A good example of Powergaming is:
Billy: “Can we resolve this without conflict please? I would rather not shed blood needlessly?”
Tommy: *fed up with Billy, takes out his sword and stabs him in the throat, killing him instantly*
Powergaming is a bad thing because it upsets the environment of the roleplay, making it far less enjoyable for everyone involved.
Metagaming: Metagaming is where one uses knowledge they obtained OOC while IC. An example is:
Walter finds Jack's secret base while mining for diamonds while OOC. Later, when he goes IC, he would tell Jason (Jack’s enemy IRP) where the base was, even though his character shouldn’t have any idea where it was. Through this, Jack is upset because he is now probably dead or harmed, and his base which should have been a secret, is no longer a secret.
Roleplaying: Roleplaying is where you abandon who you are in real life for a character you created. You need to follow that character's desires, not your own personal ones. You need to be willing to step out of your own mind and into the mind of your character. Basicly, roleplaying is becoming what you aren’t, wether that be bad or good.
--IC INFO--
Character Name: Jaren Ward
Character Race: Human
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 25
Character Occupation: Scholar
Character Description: Jaren Ward is a tall man, standing at 6’1”, being an oddity in the world. He has pale skin and deep brown eyes and hair, but a lean body. He isn’t particularly strong or attractive, but he isn’t ugly or weak. With a proud posture and strong, commanding voice, Jaren can keep the attention in a crowd if he wants to. He has long hair that nearly covers his eyes, but still not long enough for a ponytail.
As for clothing, Jaren tries to keep his attire fairly simple. He wears a long blue coat with a black tunic beneath it, as well as a small white strap for his bag. He has grey pants with thick black boots, all of which look like they have stood the test of time. His belt always has a short gladius style sword on it, but he tends never to cross blades with others.
Character Personality and Traits: Jaren is a man of a simple mindset, with few goals. He will often disregard his own safety and go out of his way to help others. He sees the hate and violence in the world, and wishes to use his own hands and mind to cleanse it. Rarely having a negative attitude, Jaren only wants everyone to be satisfied and for the world to be at peace. He understands that this goal is next to impossible, but he is willing to try. Never shy, he isn’t afraid his name be known or his voice be heard.
Character Biography: Jaren was born in the city of Falkvard, his father not caring much about him. However, his mother and younger sister loved having him around. His father only saw poor Jaren as a way to gain money and glory, training him in the arts of war. Jaren never managed to pick up fighting, only doing average in swordfighting. His father began his training when Jaren was age 7. If Jarens father (Dredgen) didn’t like Jaren, he wanted the rest of the family dead. He ran the household, rarely giving out food, not giving good beds, and just not letting them have a comfortable life in general. Jarren was more privileged in his early years, sneaking food off to his mother and sister, who needed it desperately. This period lasted from when Jaren was 7 until when he was 14.
Jump forwards seven years. Dredgen has started to hate his wife and daughter more, with some of the hate glancing off to Jaren. Dredgen would stop feeding everyone else as much, while feeding himself more. He would continue trying to make Jaren a ruthless and efficient killer, but to no avail. Jaren was too kind, too compassionate, too giving. Jaren would never be able to understand why his father was so cruel until his fifteenth birthday. On this day, Jaren was told by his father that he was not loved, that he would never be, that he was Dredgen’s tool to wealth. Something here broke inside Jaren, and he changed. He thought everything his mother and sister told him was a lie, since he thought they loved him. He stopped handing them food, stopped talking to them. He took the dark path, towards corruption, the path Dredgen had walked so long ago.
Another 7 years would go by, in which Jarens little sister would fall sick and pass away. Dredgen seemed pleased with this, where Jarens mother would become a depressed, sickly, frame of the woman she once was. She eventually took her own life, leaving Jaren and his father. All in this one year, Dredgen would begin to make the house nicer, better food, good beds, a nice fireplace, and a few other commodities. Jaren was still heading down the dark path, losing his feeling towards all others, forgetting the compassion and caring that graced his heart for so long. He would learn the ways of war better now, as he could cause harm without the slightest bit of remorse. However, on his twenty-third birthday, everything changed for Jaren. Dredgen ordered him to kill an innocent, and bring the head back. Not having a caring heart anymore, he would set out to find someone for his father, the someone who would prove him in Dredgens’ eyes. He ended up finding a poor family, doing worse than his own when his father deprived them of money. They were all starving, begging for food, water, and money. Upon seeing this family, Jaren’s heart returned to him. He saw the pain he would cause the world through his actions if he went down this road any further, and he turned back. He went back to the road of honesty and compassion, of giving and love. He gave the family a large amount of money, and they would thank him for this. With this thanks, Jaren would see that the way to peace doesn’t rest in war, in total annihilation of those who disagree. He saw that the world would be a better place if he stepped up, cared, and helped those in need. He would return to his home and tell his father his findings and realizations. Upon hearing this, Dredgen would see that all he had done was for naught, that it had all been wasted. He would fly into a fit of rage and attempt to kill Jaren, with a simple beheading. However, Jaren was prepared for this. He would draw his own blade, and in self defense, try to subdue his father. Jaren only wanted to talk sense into Dredgen, but it didn’t go according to plan. Jaren held his blade to his father's’ throat after forcing him to the ground, but moved too quickly, the blade flying out of control. On that fateful day, Dredgen Ward would die, and Jaren would step on the path of redemption, without forgetting to help those in need, and give to those who have it worse than him.
Two years would pass after these events, in which Jaren would try to make up for his actions. He would also devote his free time to becoming cognizant of the world around him, spending hours on end in libraries, or just reading any book he could find. He seeks to enlighten the world, as well as bring peace, and he won’t stop until he dies or his goal is achieved.
(RP Scenario Responses)
#1. You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
Response: Jaren would chase the child down, or at least try his best to. Using quick thinking and reflexes, not to mention an added height advantage, he would catch up to the boy and hold him still. He would ask how bad his family needed the money. If he thinks the boy answers honestly, he will either give him a large portion of it with a small lecture about rules, or take the coin pouch without giving the boy any, with a long lecture about proper manners, rules, and to ask if you needed something.
#2. You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Response: Jaren would try to help the wolf from the trap, after attempting to gain its trust. If he managed to get it free, he would get someone with medical knowledge to see if they could help the animal. Seeing past personal wealth, Jaren will always try to help those who need it, man or beast. If someone could aid the animal, he would hope that it doesn’t befall such bad luck again, then send it on it’s way.
Magic: I do not want to be able to use magic.
ACCEPTED
The changes you have made have been deemed acceptable.
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
ACCEPTED
Hello SnowboundOwl078, and thank you very much for you interest in Saphriel. The application you have written us is just dandy, and we're very much looking forward to seeing both you and Jaren on-server soon!
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: haybalebarn
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): haybalebarn
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
I’ve been roleplaying for around 8 years now. Starting out with mainly forum roleplay. Then I got minecraft, and I have 6-ish years of minecraft roleplay under my belt on a variety of different servers, including being staff on a few. Also recently gotten into tabletop roleplay games over the past few years, and have been consistently in a few groups for a year and a half now, including running some of my own games.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Power gaming is the action of attempting to make your character as powerful as possible, without regards to realism. Your character is always the fastest, always the strongest, the best fighter and the best mage as the same time. This can be more subtle, like having your character always escape with minor wounds from major combats, but this is much more difficult to define.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Meta gaming is pretty easy to describe. It’s using out of character knowledge in character, be it from using information spoken in languages your character doesn’t understand to knowledge of advanced science from the real world to things talked about in out of character shot.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words:
Roleplaying is essentially the same as improvised acting. You take on the role of a character and all actions you perform and words spoken are through the guise of your character. Who they are, what they do, and the people they like may be completely different than who you are, but that’s a good thing!
----IC Info----
-Character name: Hay
-Character race: High Elf
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 33
-Character Occupation:
Wanderer, Traveler, Soul Searcher, you know the type, Jack of all trades but master of none
-Character description:
At first glance, it’s somewhat easy to mistake Hay for a human instead of an elf; standing at 5’10, he’s shorter than even your average human male is. He’d be somewhat skinny to be a human however, having a slender build standard for most elves. If the slender build isn’t enough to tip people off, the pointed ears poking out from his hair. His hair is a light, almost sandy blonde, falling about halfway to his shoulders, with bangs just long enough that he has to blow them out of his piercing blue eyes on occasion.
His clothes are a little bit less drab than you’d expect from a traveler like he claims to be. Instead of dirty brown clothes, he wears a heavy, bright blue shirt that matches the color of his eyes. He wears a belt with a variety of pockets and pouches on it. The most notable is a simple dagger in a sheath. His pants are simple, brown, canvas, and sturdy. He wears brown leather boots which match his brown leather gloves, nothing particularly special to look at besides the fact that they’re there.
-Character personality and traits:
Hay is a bit of a character. At first glance he may appear stoic, as he tends to act rather quiet and reserved when approaching new situations, but once he gets a feel for the situation this tends to fall away. He’s a very variable personality, prone to mood swings in a variety of directions and may appear a bit volatile if he’s encountered in a particularly swingy day. This isn’t to say that he’s mentally unstable, just quick to transition between emotional states.
There’s a few things that remain relatively consistent about his personality. He’s a very curious individual, he likes to explore and learn new things and meet new people in almost any mood he’s in. Coincidentally enough, despite his tendency to fade into the background in group situations, he’s a very social individual, liking to be around people at all times and generally very adept at reading people and situations. While his moods may be somewhat dark at times, he’s generally always willing to help people and need and tries to help people who he feels are in trouble.
Being raised in a relatively isolationistic community, Hay has some of the traits one would associate with that. Frankly put, he’s a bit racist towards anyone that isn't a human or a high elf, not by choice but by upbringing. He has a tendency to make insensitive statements, only to realize a few minutes later and apologize profusely after the damage is done. In the same way the community he was raised in was very anti-magic, not teaching their children about it at all. While he has since learned that magic exists, he often has a difficulty rationalizing it and an ingrained fear, making him wary and distrustful of magic users.
Finally, he has a fascination with Udero, finding great interest in those who worship the god. He tends to collect texts written about Udero, and sometimes quotes lines that he thinks would be fitting of a worshiper of Udero, despite not worshiping Udero himself.
-Character biography:
Hay grew up far away from the rest of the world. He never knew his true parents, and he never knew much about them. From his first memory, he had only ever had his human parents. Hay was raised in a small human village that consider itself distinct from the outside world. The main reason for their self-imposed isolation was their hatred of magic, something that was fairly normal everywhere else in the world. The word magic was forbidden to be uttered, let alone talked about. Magic was a tool of such destruction that even talking about it was believed to bring death down upon the head of the utterer. Yet whenever there were utterances of the word, Hay often found himself getting strange glances from the adults in the village, but he paid them no mind.
Being a small community has its benefits, but one of those benefits was not a large amount of kids the same age as yourself. This problem was further compounded by different rate of aging he had compared to the rest of the village. As such, he spent much his youth wandering the village, learning bits and pieces of various trades from the adults and playing on his own. As he hit his teenage-equivalent years though, he became friends with another teenager in the village, and the two became almost inseparable. Often, the two would wander outside the village, exploring the forest around. It was on one of these explorations that they found the cursed things.
They were two innocuous objects, half buried in the ground, a dull color, nothing special. When Hay picked up one of them, he felt sudden breeze rush through the area, but thought nothing of it. When Tarien touched hers, she found herself capable of achieving otherworldly feats. With a bit of concentration, she could make object appear to disappear, or to appear to float, or to seem to disappear entirely. Not for long, and not well, but she could do it, and it was wonderful. They explored this ability for hours, and being innocent not even realizing it was the dreaded magic that was talked about. After all, how could something so wondrous and beautiful be dangerous? When they finally made it back home that evening, Hay gushed to his parents about the amazing things that Tarien could do, and they nodded and smiled and laughed, and then he went to bed, a normal day with a wondrous occurrence.
He woke up to the sound of screaming coming from the village square. Awful, visceral screaming of a creature in wretched pain dancing above a cacophony of crackling flames. He ran out to the village square in confusion and panic, only to see his only friend being burned at the pyre as his mother, his father, the whole village looked on in stoic silence. He attempted to run up, to pull her down, but instead of freeing her from her bindings, he was pulled down and bound. He stared on in horror and confusion, the stench of burning flesh in the air as the screams died down. He watched in stunned silence as his parents walked to the hot fire and each took a coal. He began muttering in fear as they approached him, saying nonsense in an attempt to get them to stop, if only the words would come out.
When his parents finally reached him, they paused for a moment. His father stared down in judgement before kneeling down to whisper in Hay's ear. "I'm sorry, but magic usage is punishable by death. I'm glad you told us about her before the problem got out of hand. Unfortunately, you allowed yourself to be tempted by magic as well, and although you rejected it when it presented itself to you, you still used it, if only for a moment. And for that, you must be punished." Hay stared up at his parents in confusion, and then screamed in agony as they each placed a hot coal on the backs of his hands and walked away. He screamed in agony until the world went black.
The next morning, he left.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.:
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
As the young child took off with his coin purse, Hay blinked, confused. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed it, rather that he wasn’t expecting it. Oh right, he was in a city. Pick pockets were common in the city, weren't they. It was always something that made him do a double take, if he had been caught stealing as a child, the whole village would know and scorn him for a week. As he watched the child go, he began to follow after at a leisurely pace. More important than following them, he scanned the crowds for where they were going. After a few moments, he noticed the alleyway where the child seemed to be heading, another grubby child standing there and watching in apprehension. Instead of directly following the child, he headed to the alleyway entrance. The young boy before him stared up in fear, but Hay grabbed him before he could bolt. By the time the original pickpocket made it to the alley Hay was seated on the ground, lecturing the boy. As the girl stood stunned, he snatched the coinpurse out of her hand and motioned for her to stand before him as well.
“I don't know how long you've been doing this, and I'm certain you've had more experience with it than me, but if you’re going to be thieves, a few pointers. First, try to pick targets who can’t chase after you. Ideally, you want to be light enough on the touch that they don't notice. But if you aren't light enough on the touch, pick someone you can outrun, if you can't outrun them, they can probably catch you, and if they can catch you, you end up in this situation. Secondly, try to pick targets who actually have money worth stealing.” He smiles lightly and opens the coin pouch, flipping it upside down, two pathetic coins clinking onto the ground. He rolled his eyes as the children immediately snatched them up, but he didn’t reprimand them for it. Slowly he stood and scanned the crowd.
“Now, if you’re going to try and rob someone, pick them.” He points to a large man in rather ornate clothing, who for some reason didn’t seem to have a personal guard, just begging to be stolen from. “He should have a nice payday.”
He turned around, expecting the children to follow his gaze, but instead he just managed to watch them turn the corner with their prize of two coins. He blinks for a moment and sighs. “I suppose I should have expected children to be that shortsighted… Waste of coins.” He shrugged for a moment and moved back into the crowd, humming to himself as he went. What other fun could he find?
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
As he comes across the situation, Hay observes for a short amount of time. If that wolf was still moving it could hurt him, and that was dangerous. After being satisfied that it wouldn’t lash out at him, he quietly approaches with blank expression on his face. Poor creature was suffering, and its pups would die without their mother. He knew they were menaces, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. After all, it was just bad luck that she had been trapped here like this. Well, he had no time to be sentimental, he wasn’t about to let an animal suffer, from traps or starvation. Quietly, he picks up one of the puppies, takes it out of view from the others, and pulls out his dagger. He does it twice more before finishing off the mother. Then, he finds the best stick he can and begins to dig a shallow grave, burying the family after a few hours work. He had always been taught that if he was going to kill an animal, to at least treat it with respect. This was respect.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
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-Magic Biography; Explain the reason you want your character to have magic through backstory application:
Magic is something that Hay doesn’t know how to deal with. He’s been taught his entire life that magic was evil, an unmentionable, something horrific and unnatural. Yet, his first experience with magic was a wonderful encounter, only for the results of that to traumatize him forever. As such, Hay is very uncomfortable around magic. He doesn’t know what to think of it. Everything tells him that he should hate it, but there’s still that small spark that was still in awe of it. As such, he tends to overreact whenever he encounters magic, often with wonder followed by hostility and coldness towards any magic user he may encounter.
Hay has a suspicion that he is capable of using magic, but this is something that he vehemently denies to both himself and others. This denial paired with how he was raised is the reason why he has such a strongly averse reaction to most magic users. If he admits that magic is not something inherently evil and corrupt, then he as to accept the fact that he can use it as well. That’s the kind of conflict that I enjoy. He tends to be a rather mood-swingy character as it is, so to see him fight with himself and others over his ability to use magic is what I want.
I’m planning on having all of his magical abilities be befitting of his personality, and when I think of his personality, I think of winds, ever changing, many different types and many different facets, no one wind staying the same for too long. As such, his magic is going to reflect that, starting off with wind magic, and probably branching off into any other elements one may find in a storm, like electricity, water, and ice. That assuming he’s convinced to develop his magic at all, which is certainly not decided yet.
So, why do I want Hay to have magic? Conflict, that’s why. It brings a point of interest to his character in how he will deal with this eventual realization. It also simply fits the character, without magic, he’s just a guy who has a rather variable personality that can go in many directions depending on his mood. With it, he’s the embodiment of the wind, switching from a pleasant breeze to a raging storm in the blink of an eye.
-Please give an example in your own words describing the limitations placed upon those who use magic (This should be at least one well-crafted paragraph):
Magic is a skill, like any other. That’s an important distinction. Magic is not a trait, it’s a skill. It’s something that must be trained, must be learned. It’s a trade or a craft. It takes a carpenter years to learn how to become a carpenter, and how much more complex is magic than carpentry? I’m willing to bet a fair amount. Not only that, magic is physically limited by your stamina to use magic, and it’s also limited by the power of the artifact used to channel magic. It should take months of time out of character for your character to learn magic to a competent level.
-Please give a description of the magic system in your own words:
First things first, while magic is learned, one must have an innate ability to cast magic.
Secondly, magic is divided into specializations. Each character can only learn a certain amount of specializations based on their race.
Thirdly, despite being hereditary, magic is a learned skill. It takes a lot of time a practice to cast any spell at all.
Fourthly, magic cannot be cast without using an artifact as a channel. Artifacts come in a variety of power levels, and each artifact is attuned with a specific specialization. Trying to cast magic of a type that isn’t your artifact’s specialization probably won’t work out very well for you.
-You are given a weak trinket of Air, you haven't had much practice with magic yet, but you will try your best. Describe some things you could/would do with this trinket:
You know what you can do with a small amount of Air magic? Breezes. And that’s fine, creating a breeze is fun. You can use it to mess with people’s hair, blow out candles, float feathers, and maybe even cause someone to stumble if you push it really close and don’t care about it blowing up in your face. Making artifacts blow up generally isn’t something you want to do.
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: TheJango40
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat):
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?
Yes, I've played on a (..pirated) Minecraft server back in 2010, as well as RPed in other games. I'm usually very laid-back and wander alone, keeping out of conflicts.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words:
Playing in a way that will make you as powerful as possible, and entirely disregarding the realism of your actions. Using glitches for your advantage is a good example of power-gaming.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words:
Simply using knowledge your character doesn't have.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words:
In-game acting. You play as a character, making your own story in the world.
----IC Info----
-Character name:
Ayorall (Ayo/Ayor for short)
-Character race:
Human
-Character gender:
Male
-Character age:
24
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. This more or less helps us to better understand your characters starting skill set):
Explorer, wanderer, treasure hunter, amateur sailor.
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
Ayorall usually wears clothing typical for an explorer - Sturdy boots, loose jacket and pants, either a hat or hood to protect himself from sunlight, and wears a rugsack. On the rare occasion of visiting someone, or being invited to a feast, he wears beautiful Nobleman's attire, which is one of the few things he inherited.
He does not stand out very much in his appearance, although he has a better-than-average facial structure. Ayorall's frequent travels and expeditions made him very fit and strong. His eyes are light brown, and his hair blonde and long, although not particulary dense.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
There are few things that would make Ayorall stop whatever he's currently doing - a very stubborn person, which is both an advantage and a weakness of his. He is also notably curious and adventurous, always needing to see what's behind the next hill. Although he fancies himself as a ''treasure hunter'', he hasn't had very much luck so far, the most valuable item he found yet being a golden clock. Ayorall isn't a particulary social person, and always travels alone - but he has no problems socializing when he's in the mood to, especially with like-minded individuals (and pretty women). Feasting is something he likes to do from time to time - and the stories he has from his travels always fascinate the crowd, even though they might not be entirely true..
Ayorall doesn't care much for the gods - although he is sligthtly interested in Behmos, the ruler of Hell, as well as the dimension itself. He often wonders what riches it may hold, but realizes the chances of even seeing it yet alone looting and not being killed by the Hellish creatures are impossibly low. He has a deep fascination of the living dead.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Ayorall was born in Barkamsted, a grandchild of a formerly rich couple that had to leave almost everything they had in Falkvard when it was devastated. Both of his parents hail from the beautiful city and have colorful memories from their childhood. Ayor, however, never had a chance to experience a normal childhood. Ever since he was a small child, he heard stories of life before the great war, how much freedom there was, and the carefree lives most people had. Poor Ayor and other children had to grow up surrounded by fear in the overcrowded town of Barkamsted.
Growing up, he had to face even more challenges. All work other than joining the military was taken, meaning he as well as his parents had little to live by. His parents ended up selling most of the valuables brought by Ayor's grandparents, but thankfully just a few things were saved - for example, the expensive Nobleman's attire.
His hard childhood and the stories he heard made him hungry for freedom, and combined with his natural curiosity, made him who he is today - an adventurer who wants to experience something he never had a chance to, and depending on how lucky he is - maybe become famous, or change the world.. for better or worse.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
.I run after him. After catching him, I ask why he stole from me. If it was for his just for his enjoyment, the addicting feeling of adrenaline - I take back my money, and take him to authorities. If his reason is good enough, however - maybe he's poor, or really wants to buy a gift for someone very close to him, be it his parents, a friend, or the pretty girl he dreams about, I will give him a portion of my coins - but not the entire purse, as I need the money myself and stealing is the wrong way to solve his problem. I also make sure he's not lying to my face.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
With some hestitation and care, I free the wolf. While I know the money would help me quite a bit, I simply enough can't make myself kill a defenseless wolf who is obviously in a lot of pain in front of her children. Finally free, the mother and her pups walk away.. I leave, with some conflict inside myself. I could have selled the furs to get some much-needed coins, and helped the peasants, and I'm still not sure if I made the right decision.
DENIED
As I read this character application I was able to spot many flaws. The most noticeable one being that you hadn't followed the application format. You avoided a great deal of OOC and IC knowledge to allow us determine what you knew of RP. Though after this I'd like to run over the lore violations here. Lets start from the first lore error to the last in your biography.
There is no little to know reason that explains how or why your mother was attacked by a vampire. Though an obvious answer could state that it was for the blood, there is no detail to state anything other than the fact some vampire had the unfortunate encounter with her. Next you mention living in a state park. Though there isn't a single state park that Lord Barkam controls in any of his cities. Third was the old library. If you were speaking about the library in Barkamsted, it was only recently that the Barkamsted library was stocked with any new documents. Results on vampires would be slim to none as they have been a fairly hidden thing from the society of Barkamsted in recent years. Lastly let us speak about these random werewolves you mention finding. Being a werewolf is information that should never be announced to anybody, nor would their senses allow them to ignore a boy after they created a ghost town out of the others.
You may want to consider some heavy modifications to this application. Though if you do so, we will surely review it again.
PENDING
Hello my old friend, it's good to see a familiar name. I hope you've been well through all the years.
While absolutely excellent, your application does not take Elven Lore fully into account. There are sparing few splinter communities and there are none that eschew magic so completely as you have indicated. We're more than willing to insert new cultures and new communities, but this goes too far and away from Elven culture to be manageable. If you changed your character to be human the app as is would be accepted. Another consideration is that most every outlying community was destroyed during the only recently ended Pact War.
Either change the race or alter the application. Elves simply enjoy their magic too much to have this kind of culture supported on a communal scale. Perhaps on a family level, but not as widespread. Alternatively, you could have them live in a largely human community that has such views, that would also be acceptable. Please decide and post again
ACCEPTED
Mind that you will not yourself be of noble blood, you will have just inherited the attire. Excellent inclusion of the Lore. We would normally prefer a more extensive biography, but you put great emphasis on the character himself and so we have confidence that you will fit into the community.
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
Pending
We would like to see you greatly expand on the roleplay portions. All else is fine, but the scenarios are not currently satisfactory.
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home
Oh hey Rajaat, still using the same avatar I see! Been a few years, hasn't it?
Anyways, I was already considering changing the backstory to have him growing up in a human community before you posted the feedback, so seems we were thinking along the same lines. Changed parts of his personality, backstory, and first roleplay sample to reflect this. It was all pretty minor, mainly to change his sheltered-racism to not include humans as well as High Elves, and of course the alterations to refer to him growing up in a human community. Think I got everything, but let me know if there's anything more that needs to be changed!
As for the issue of most small communities being destroyed in the pact wars recently, I never particularly stated when he left home, so I'm certain it's feasible that it happened before that, or some other explanation that can be made. I'm not going to really go into the particulars unless you feel that's necessary.
That it has! You'll love this server.
Accepted
The changes you have made have been deemed acceptable. We only pressed about the village when it was an Elven one, as for such a community to possibly exist it would have had to have been in areas that the Pact had been through. Your changes make that concern obsolete.
We look forward to seeing your lovely character in action.
Welcome to the Realm of Saphriel!.
Server IP: 192.99.20.170:30352
Texture Pack: http://resourcepack.net/conquest-resource-pack/
Website: http://therealmofsaphriel.enjin.com/home