IGN: Sloopofwar Age: 16 Role-Play Exp.: High. I've played tabletop role-playing games for over two years, and played on RP Minecraft servers for a while. Why Us: Skyrim? Minecraft? I think I am in love. Time You Can Dedicate: Around two hours every day for sure. Probably less on the weekends than on the weekdays the way my schedule works.
IC
Name: Bjard Soen Race: Norse Gender: Male Age: 37 Appearance: A tall muscular frame with blue tribe marks on upper arm and face. Swarthy face with dark blonde/light brown hair and short beard. Fears: Inglorious death, defeat, dragons, women...the usual. Personality: Melancholy and noble. Introverted, but willing to help others. Occupation: Wandering warrior and smithy.I Skills: Decent miner and archer. Skilled swordsman and hunter. RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Bjard: *Enters a village that shows evidence of a recent attack. Puts hand on sword and stops a passerby*
"Hail friend, what has happened here?"
Old Man: *Looks at strange heavily armed man*
"Hmm? What do you want with us? Can't you see we have enough troubles as it is? Go away and leave us in peace."
Bjard: *Takes hand off sword and tries to look less grim*
"I only wish to help. Who attacked you?"
Old Man: "Strange men such as yourself no less!"
*Pokes you in the ribs with cane*
"We will be ready for you the next time though!"
*Cackles and runs off*
Bjard: *Shakes head slowly and watches you leave* Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs):
Skyrim.
Some people go there for the scenery.
Some people go there to hide.
Others look for adventure.
Me? All of the above.
Looking north from Bruma my father used to get a faraway look in his eye, like there was something just out of sight, something magical. He told us children about the land of our ancestors. A place of danger and excitement. Of giants and werewolves. Of cold barrows and warriors that swept the land like fire. Before the Empire came...
My father returned to Skyrim when I was still young, and he died for freedom.
I don't know who was right in the struggle...whether all Nords should die if their blood could bring independence, or whether peace under the iron Empire is preferable.
I haven't come to Skyrim to fight that war. There are other battles to fight, battles with wolves and wights. Dragons and bandits.
My homeland is a sad place. I aim to make it a better place.
I loved the style of the application, however the backstory was lacking in detail and length. It does however explain your ambitions an sets the scene well. Usually I would decline an application like this- but I'm going to have to accept it.
OOC
IGN: JoeW1998
Age: 12
Role-Play Exp.: I played on a different role play server, and the name of it escapes me. It was pretty popular, but I never really rose to glory on it, because I joined a few days before Minecraft updated to 1.8.
I use proper grammar and spelling, so people can understand me, and try to avoid plot holes in things I say. I really try to imagine how it would feel if I was the character, and my mind is pretty imaginative, so it's not too hard.
Why Us: I've honestly never played Skyrim, (I played Oblivion though) but the description of the server looked interesting and what you had to offer looked good. I guess I was just kind of hooked on what you showed me.
Time You Can Dedicate: Well, I've kind of "gone on a vacation" from Minecraft, because I've been playing a lot of TF2, however, if the server is good, I'm sure I'll come back to Minecraft. I play all day on the weekends and I play from 5:00 - 10:00 PM CST.
IC
Name: Arksis
Race: Like I said, I never played Skyrim, but I recall the races from Oblivion. If they are the same, I choose Nord.
Gender: Male (I'm guessing there will be an extreme lack of females)
Age: 23
Appearance: Short, black hair in a military style, gray eyes. Face is shaped squarely. A small scar is found diagonally over the left eye that goes towards the farther left of his face. An unusually large amount of dirt is found on his face.
Fears: Losing and Vampires.
Personality: Humble, generous, and kind, but speaks up if he sees something wrong or doesn't like what he's hearing. In war, he's careless, bloodthirsty, and violent.
Occupation: Lives poorly, as he never got a chance to do anything more in his life. He works at a local bar, cleaning the bar and selling drinks, but not the manager.
Skills: Fighting, Merchantile, and an unusual expertise in alchemy.
Nickname (Optional): Ark, only because I know people would probably call me that anyways.
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Jailor: "Aye, we don't have a choice. If we don't do it, he will just stay down here, screaming with agony and grief until he slowly mutates into a wild, insane man, and slowly dies from lack of food and water."
Arksis: "I can't do it."
Jailor: "You must. I can't take the poor sight of him much longer. Look at him. His ragged clothes sagging from his body. The flies are already starting to swarm his body."
Arksis: "He must have a proper execution. What do you expect me to do? Hammer his head in with a mallet until his brains fall out on the floor?"
Jailor: " . . . I don't think we have a choice. Unless you'd prefer an axe."
Arksis: "This is no laughing matter."
Jailor: "I never said it was. Put him out of his misery."
Arksis: "I need a word with him. In private."
Jailor: "No. It's my job as the jailor to make sure you don't do any funny business."
Arksis: "You owe me one. Remember that time where I beat up the brute that tried to break your head with his mug?"
Jailor: "I suppose you're right. If I catch sight of you freeing him, don't expect me not to slip a word to the guards."
Arksis: "You got it."
Jailor: (Footsteps echo down the hall and he vanishes behind a door)
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Arksis was born in a no where town out to the west of Whiterun. When he was born, he killed his mother on the way out. Wasn't born right. Shortly after, his father commited suicide. He was raised as an orphan in the town. Abused by his new found parents, he was forced to do all the chores. At the age of seven, he had already become an expert lumberjack, and could cut down the thickest of trees in five swoops of his axe. While he was out, his parents liked to swing by the bar and order bottles of mead with the gold coins he earned them by collecting lumber. After a tiresome day, Arksis returned home to find his parents drunk. When he approached them, his father pulled a knife out of his pocket and clumsily ran for Arksis, trying to attack him. Arksis attempted to pull out his axe, but failed. The knife barely cut the left of his eye as he was dodging the attack. After another attempt to reach for his axe, he pulled it out and cut his father cleanly in half. After realizing what he had done, he fled.
As he was fleeing from the area, a guard grabbed hold of him and asked him why he was running. Strugging to get out, the guard took him down to the captain of the guard, who temporarily imprisoned him for suspicion of crimes. After later finding the murder scene, the mother of Arksis lied to the guard, and told him that his father was ill, and Arksis came out with his axe and killed him. Arksis was imprisoned for the rest of his days in a dimly lit cell. At least, it was thought that he was to be imprisoned for his life. Arksis met someone there. A young man who had smuggled a lockpick on his way into the prison. He freed himself and freed Arksis. On their way out, an archer shot the man who had freed him in the back, and barely missed Arksis. He ran away and fled into the woods. After camping out there for a month, he went to Whiterun, and worked mysteriously as a bartender. No one ever suspected him.
OOC
IGN: JoeW1998
Age: 12
Role-Play Exp.: I played on a different role play server, and the name of it escapes me. It was pretty popular, but I never really rose to glory on it, because I joined a few days before Minecraft updated to 1.8.
I use proper grammar and spelling, so people can understand me, and try to avoid plot holes in things I say. I really try to imagine how it would feel if I was the character, and my mind is pretty imaginative, so it's not too hard.
Why Us: I've honestly never played Skyrim, (I played Oblivion though) but the description of the server looked interesting and what you had to offer looked good. I guess I was just kind of hooked on what you showed me.
Time You Can Dedicate: Well, I've kind of "gone on a vacation" from Minecraft, because I've been playing a lot of TF2, however, if the server is good, I'm sure I'll come back to Minecraft. I play all day on the weekends and I play from 5:00 - 10:00 PM CST.
IC
Name: Arksis
Race: Like I said, I never played Skyrim, but I recall the races from Oblivion. If they are the same, I choose Nord.
Gender: Male (I'm guessing there will be an extreme lack of females)
Age: 23
Appearance: Short, black hair in a military style, gray eyes. Face is shaped squarely. A small scar is found diagonally over the left eye that goes towards the farther left of his face. An unusually large amount of dirt is found on his face.
Fears: Losing and Vampires.
Personality: Humble, generous, and kind, but speaks up if he sees something wrong or doesn't like what he's hearing. In war, he's careless, bloodthirsty, and violent.
Occupation: Lives poorly, as he never got a chance to do anything more in his life. He works at a local bar, cleaning the bar and selling drinks, but not the manager.
Skills: Fighting, Merchantile, and an unusual expertise in alchemy.
Nickname (Optional): Ark, only because I know people would probably call me that anyways.
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Jailor: "Aye, we don't have a choice. If we don't do it, he will just stay down here, screaming with agony and grief until he slowly mutates into a wild, insane man, and slowly dies from lack of food and water."
Arksis: "I can't do it."
Jailor: "You must. I can't take the poor sight of him much longer. Look at him. His ragged clothes sagging from his body. The flies are already starting to swarm his body."
Arksis: "He must have a proper execution. What do you expect me to do? Hammer his head in with a mallet until his brains fall out on the floor?"
Jailor: " . . . I don't think we have a choice. Unless you'd prefer an axe."
Arksis: "This is no laughing matter."
Jailor: "I never said it was. Put him out of his misery."
Arksis: "I need a word with him. In private."
Jailor: "No. It's my job as the jailor to make sure you don't do any funny business."
Arksis: "You owe me one. Remember that time where I beat up the brute that tried to break your head with his mug?"
Jailor: "I suppose you're right. If I catch sight of you freeing him, don't expect me not to slip a word to the guards."
Arksis: "You got it."
Jailor: (Footsteps echo down the hall and he vanishes behind a door)
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Arksis was born in a no where town out to the west of Whiterun. When he was born, he killed his mother on the way out. Wasn't born right. Shortly after, his father commited suicide. He was raised as an orphan in the town. Abused by his new found parents, he was forced to do all the chores. At the age of seven, he had already become an expert lumberjack, and could cut down the thickest of trees in five swoops of his axe. While he was out, his parents liked to swing by the bar and order bottles of mead with the gold coins he earned them by collecting lumber. After a tiresome day, Arksis returned home to find his parents drunk. When he approached them, his father pulled a knife out of his pocket and clumsily ran for Arksis, trying to attack him. Arksis attempted to pull out his axe, but failed. The knife barely cut the left of his eye as he was dodging the attack. After another attempt to reach for his axe, he pulled it out and cut his father cleanly in half. After realizing what he had done, he fled.
As he was fleeing from the area, a guard grabbed hold of him and asked him why he was running. Strugging to get out, the guard took him down to the captain of the guard, who temporarily imprisoned him for suspicion of crimes. After later finding the murder scene, the mother of Arksis lied to the guard, and told him that his father was ill, and Arksis came out with his axe and killed him. Arksis was imprisoned for the rest of his days in a dimly lit cell. At least, it was thought that he was to be imprisoned for his life. Arksis met someone there. A young man who had smuggled a lockpick on his way into the prison. He freed himself and freed Arksis. On their way out, an archer shot the man who had freed him in the back, and barely missed Arksis. He ran away and fled into the woods. After camping out there for a month, he went to Whiterun, and worked mysteriously as a bartender. No one ever suspected him.
OOC
IGN: JoeW1998
Age: 12
Role-Play Exp.: I played on a different role play server, and the name of it escapes me. It was pretty popular, but I never really rose to glory on it, because I joined a few days before Minecraft updated to 1.8.
I use proper grammar and spelling, so people can understand me, and try to avoid plot holes in things I say. I really try to imagine how it would feel if I was the character, and my mind is pretty imaginative, so it's not too hard.
Why Us: I've honestly never played Skyrim, (I played Oblivion though) but the description of the server looked interesting and what you had to offer looked good. I guess I was just kind of hooked on what you showed me.
Time You Can Dedicate: Well, I've kind of "gone on a vacation" from Minecraft, because I've been playing a lot of TF2, however, if the server is good, I'm sure I'll come back to Minecraft. I play all day on the weekends and I play from 5:00 - 10:00 PM CST.
IC
Name: Arksis
Race: Like I said, I never played Skyrim, but I recall the races from Oblivion. If they are the same, I choose Nord.
Gender: Male (I'm guessing there will be an extreme lack of females)
Age: 23
Appearance: Short, black hair in a military style, gray eyes. Face is shaped squarely. A small scar is found diagonally over the left eye that goes towards the farther left of his face. An unusually large amount of dirt is found on his face.
Fears: Losing and Vampires.
Personality: Humble, generous, and kind, but speaks up if he sees something wrong or doesn't like what he's hearing. In war, he's careless, bloodthirsty, and violent.
Occupation: Lives poorly, as he never got a chance to do anything more in his life. He works at a local bar, cleaning the bar and selling drinks, but not the manager.
Skills: Fighting, Merchantile, and an unusual expertise in alchemy.
Nickname (Optional): Ark, only because I know people would probably call me that anyways.
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Jailor: "Aye, we don't have a choice. If we don't do it, he will just stay down here, screaming with agony and grief until he slowly mutates into a wild, insane man, and slowly dies from lack of food and water."
Arksis: "I can't do it."
Jailor: "You must. I can't take the poor sight of him much longer. Look at him. His ragged clothes sagging from his body. The flies are already starting to swarm his body."
Arksis: "He must have a proper execution. What do you expect me to do? Hammer his head in with a mallet until his brains fall out on the floor?"
Jailor: " . . . I don't think we have a choice. Unless you'd prefer an axe."
Arksis: "This is no laughing matter."
Jailor: "I never said it was. Put him out of his misery."
Arksis: "I need a word with him. In private."
Jailor: "No. It's my job as the jailor to make sure you don't do any funny business."
Arksis: "You owe me one. Remember that time where I beat up the brute that tried to break your head with his mug?"
Jailor: "I suppose you're right. If I catch sight of you freeing him, don't expect me not to slip a word to the guards."
Arksis: "You got it."
Jailor: (Footsteps echo down the hall and he vanishes behind a door)
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Arksis was born in a no where town out to the west of Whiterun. When he was born, he killed his mother on the way out. Wasn't born right. Shortly after, his father commited suicide. He was raised as an orphan in the town. Abused by his new found parents, he was forced to do all the chores. At the age of seven, he had already become an expert lumberjack, and could cut down the thickest of trees in five swoops of his axe. While he was out, his parents liked to swing by the bar and order bottles of mead with the gold coins he earned them by collecting lumber. After a tiresome day, Arksis returned home to find his parents drunk. When he approached them, his father pulled a knife out of his pocket and clumsily ran for Arksis, trying to attack him. Arksis attempted to pull out his axe, but failed. The knife barely cut the left of his eye as he was dodging the attack. After another attempt to reach for his axe, he pulled it out and cut his father cleanly in half. After realizing what he had done, he fled.
As he was fleeing from the area, a guard grabbed hold of him and asked him why he was running. Strugging to get out, the guard took him down to the captain of the guard, who temporarily imprisoned him for suspicion of crimes. After later finding the murder scene, the mother of Arksis lied to the guard, and told him that his father was ill, and Arksis came out with his axe and killed him. Arksis was imprisoned for the rest of his days in a dimly lit cell. At least, it was thought that he was to be imprisoned for his life. Arksis met someone there. A young man who had smuggled a lockpick on his way into the prison. He freed himself and freed Arksis. On their way out, an archer shot the man who had freed him in the back, and barely missed Arksis. He ran away and fled into the woods. After camping out there for a month, he went to Whiterun, and worked mysteriously as a bartender. No one ever suspected him.
Really? I did that application in a hurry. I only really worked for the backstory, everything else was just written quickly without any attention. Thanks, though. :smile.gif:
[EDIT]: I quickly checked the front page. I was excited to get onto the server, and I just kind of stared at the IP.
"Coming soon" What is that supposed to mean? I know it's in beta, but isn't beta supposed to mean we can still play it?
EDIT: I just realized I may have done it a little to short, because everyone else seemed to put in so much more! I apologize, if you would like me to create a new one that would be fine! However, I garuntee I can be an amazing comrade and great community member!
IGN: fsujoseph
Age: 16
Role-Play Exp.: Fallout 3, Oblivion, Skyrim, Fable, some RP on SMP, KOTR, Dragon Age.
Why Us: I absolutely LOVE Skyrim. When I read all the cities, it puts a tingle down my spine, knowing that I've been there!
Time You Can Dedicate: I can dedicate between 0-50 hours a week. It really depends on my liking of the server, and by all means I hope to spend 50!
IC
Name: Zetheroth the 2nd
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Appearance: Brown, shoulder length hair with a beard and blue eyes. Tall/tan body with battle scars. Dragonborn tattoo over right eye. Muscular body from years spent in the Stormcloak army. Heavy armour for fighting.
Fears: The only fear Zetheroth has IS fear.
Personality: Quiet person. Keeps to himself. Although, during battle his war-cry can be heard vibrating against the mountains of Skyrim, striking fear into his opponents.
Occupation: Stormcloak general.
Skills: Smithing, Heavy Armour, Restoration magic, Blocking, and One-handed.
Nickname (Optional):
RP Example (Add Dialogue): 'Tonight, my friends; tonight we fight to bring back what was taken! We are the Stormcloaks! We will defeat them! Blood! Blast! AND FIRE! CHARGE!
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Zetheroth was born under his fathers name; Zetheroth the 1st. His father was a general in the Stormcloak rebellion. Zetheroth was a simple-minded child and wanted to be just that. A general. He was tested, fighting trolls, wolves, and the deadly Frostbite spider. He passed all the tests with apparent ease as his grim smile was the last image his opponents saw. His tutors were appalled at his speed in heavy armour and the way he worked the forge with little effort. He was a natural.
As Zetheroth finally joined the Stormcloaks they were bombarded by the imperials. Many men were lost that day, including his father. Zetheroth's mourning could be heard throughout Skyrim, which is what he is known for. His enemy's cowered in fear as his sword smashed down upon them like a knife would through butter. His name is Zetheroth...he wants vengeance, he wants glory, he wants a dragon's head.
Really? I did that application in a hurry. I only really worked for the backstory, everything else was just written quickly without any attention. Thanks, though. :smile.gif:
[EDIT]: I quickly checked the front page. I was excited to get onto the server, and I just kind of stared at the IP.
"Coming soon" What is that supposed to mean? I know it's in beta, but isn't beta supposed to mean we can still play it?
Really? I did that application in a hurry. I only really worked for the backstory, everything else was just written quickly without any attention. Thanks, though. :smile.gif:
[EDIT]: I quickly checked the front page. I was excited to get onto the server, and I just kind of stared at the IP.
"Coming soon" What is that supposed to mean? I know it's in beta, but isn't beta supposed to mean we can still play it?
The map we are using is under construction, thus the wait.
I loved the style of the application, however the backstory was lacking in detail and length. It does however explain your ambitions an sets the scene well. Usually I would decline an application like this- but I'm going to have to accept it.
I was attempting to do something other than the generic:
My character was born in X, all his family died, he's come to Skyrim to chew gum and kick ass.
IGN: fsujoseph
Age: 16
Role-Play Exp.: Fallout 3, Oblivion, Skyrim, Fable, some RP on SMP, KOTR, Dragon Age.
Why Us: I absolutely LOVE Skyrim. When I read all the cities, it puts a tingle down my spine, knowing that I've been there!
Time You Can Dedicate: I can dedicate between 0-50 hours a week. It really depends on my liking of the server, and by all means I hope to spend 50!
IC
Name: Zetheroth the 2nd
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Appearance: Brown, shoulder length hair with a beard and blue eyes. Tall/tan body with battle scars. Dragonborn tattoo over right eye. Muscular body from years spent in the Stormcloak army. Heavy armour for fighting.
Fears: The only fear Zetheroth has IS fear.
Personality: Quiet person. Keeps to himself. Although, during battle his war-cry can be heard vibrating against the mountains of Skyrim, striking fear into his opponents.
Occupation: Stormcloak general.
Skills: Smithing, Heavy Armour, Restoration magic, Blocking, and One-handed.
Nickname (Optional):
RP Example (Add Dialogue): 'Tonight, my friends; tonight we fight to bring back what was taken! We are the Stormcloaks! We will defeat them! Blood! Blast! AND FIRE! CHARGE!
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Zetheroth was born under his fathers name; Zetheroth the 1st. His father was a general in the Stormcloak rebellion. Zetheroth was a simple-minded child and wanted to be just that. A general. He was tested, fighting trolls, wolves, and the deadly Frostbite spider. He passed all the tests with apparent ease as his grim smile was the last image his opponents saw. His tutors were appalled at his speed in heavy armour and the way he worked the forge with little effort. He was a natural.
As Zetheroth finally joined the Stormcloaks they were bombarded by the imperials. Many men were lost that day, including his father. Zetheroth's mourning could be heard throughout Skyrim, which is what he is known for. His enemy's cowered in fear as his sword smashed down upon them like a knife would through butter. His name is Zetheroth...he wants vengeance, he wants glory, he wants a dragon's head.
Denied. You seem to be one of those glory hounds that wants to be a Dovakiin tank. It also doesn't help having a very short and shoddy backstory and a shoddy rp example(if one calls it that).
I was attempting to do something other than the generic:
My character was born in X, all his family died, he's come to Skyrim to chew gum and kick ass.
Love the They Live/Duke Nukem reference! And yes, that's the worst cliche.
I was attempting to do something other than the generic:
My character was born in X, all his family died, he's come to Skyrim to chew gum and kick ass.
I know what you mean. I enjoy reading something different, it was a just a bit too short.
Denied. You seem to be one of those glory hounds that wants to be a Dovakiin tank. It also doesn't help having a very short and shoddy backstory and a shoddy rp example(if one calls it that).
Love the They Live/Duke Nukem reference! And yes, that's the worst cliche.
I understand, I know what you mean by generic. May I make another one, please?
IGN: Reip
Age: 17
Role-Play Exp.: Been admin in a rp server (Kingdom of Baktrainia) Fallout: Rocketeers
Why Us: Your the first with a skyrim server
Time You Can Dedicate: 4 hours weekdays and 5+ hours weekends (when i don't work)
IC
Name: S-Dar'Jidahra
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Appearance: Medium frame, tall, Good looking (for Khijiit), Neat, Light armor; Fur or leather.
Fears: Being surrounded
Personality: Calm until either some one steals from him or see's him stealing.
Occupation: He likes to steal from rich people just as a pastime, and he steals from lords for a little thrill.
Skills: Lock-Picking, Stealth, archery
Nickname (Optional):
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Guard: You there! STOP!
Guard: You violated the law! Pay the court of fine or serve your sentence!
Me: Wait what? (Khijiit accent) I didn't steal anything?!!
Guard: Who said anything about stealing?
Me: Urmmm *scratch's head* Me, stealing heh?...
*push's the guard on the ground and starts running away*
*guards searching for the Khajiit*
*Passes by me in other clothes*
Guard: You, khijiit, have you seen one of your kind running away this direction?
Me: Yes he went in that dark allay down there *points down the allay*
Guard: Thank you sir! Lets go boys!
Me: *evil laugh*
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): S-Dar'Jidahra was born in Morrowind. His father was a tribe leader and mother was a thief. He lived in Morrowind for the first 10 years of his life. because of his mother S-Dar'Jidahra Learned the way of stealth and lock-Picking. He stole his first item at the age of 8 from a old lady that was talking to his mother. Then at the age of 9 his father teached Jidahra how to shoot with a bow. He slowly got good at it. Then at the age of 10 him and his many was wanted so they left for Cyrodil. They didn't stay long in cyrodil. So they moved to Skyrim. They arrived when Jidahra was about 15 years old.
So now that Jidahra arrived in skyrim he learned that dragons were back. Tho he couldn't just leave like that and also he leaned that there dragon lord was dead. So he decided to stay and make a new life. So he told his family that he would go his own way. So he left for WhiteRun. When he arrived there was already a Khijiit camp installed outside the castle. He asked why and he learned that Khijiit's were not welcome inside WhiteRun. So he started stealing from merchants and wealthy people passing by to enter WhiteRun. He also did some treasure hunt and got a good amount of money with selling all those items. So for years Jidahra lived from stealing and hunting. But now he is looking for a new tribe to live with because his friends sadly got killed by a dragon. And from that point I start my new story...
Yeah, after posting I reread the entire front page, scanning for information. I was just too lazy to edit my post for one word because loading the edit, the forums, the page, looking for my post and all that would take too much of my time. It wasn't a critical error anyways.
No problem! Alert reading from members such as yourself is nothing to apologies for.
I'm not a moderator, but I am a whitelister, according to Insane Artist
I loved the style of the application, however the backstory was lacking in detail and length. It does however explain your ambitions an sets the scene well. Usually I would decline an application like this- but I'm going to have to accept it.
IGN: JoeW1998
Age: 12
Role-Play Exp.: I played on a different role play server, and the name of it escapes me. It was pretty popular, but I never really rose to glory on it, because I joined a few days before Minecraft updated to 1.8.
I use proper grammar and spelling, so people can understand me, and try to avoid plot holes in things I say. I really try to imagine how it would feel if I was the character, and my mind is pretty imaginative, so it's not too hard.
Why Us: I've honestly never played Skyrim, (I played Oblivion though) but the description of the server looked interesting and what you had to offer looked good. I guess I was just kind of hooked on what you showed me.
Time You Can Dedicate: Well, I've kind of "gone on a vacation" from Minecraft, because I've been playing a lot of TF2, however, if the server is good, I'm sure I'll come back to Minecraft. I play all day on the weekends and I play from 5:00 - 10:00 PM CST.
IC
Name: Arksis
Race: Like I said, I never played Skyrim, but I recall the races from Oblivion. If they are the same, I choose Nord.
Gender: Male (I'm guessing there will be an extreme lack of females)
Age: 23
Appearance: Short, black hair in a military style, gray eyes. Face is shaped squarely. A small scar is found diagonally over the left eye that goes towards the farther left of his face. An unusually large amount of dirt is found on his face.
Fears: Losing and Vampires.
Personality: Humble, generous, and kind, but speaks up if he sees something wrong or doesn't like what he's hearing. In war, he's careless, bloodthirsty, and violent.
Occupation: Lives poorly, as he never got a chance to do anything more in his life. He works at a local bar, cleaning the bar and selling drinks, but not the manager.
Skills: Fighting, Merchantile, and an unusual expertise in alchemy.
Nickname (Optional): Ark, only because I know people would probably call me that anyways.
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Jailor: "Aye, we don't have a choice. If we don't do it, he will just stay down here, screaming with agony and grief until he slowly mutates into a wild, insane man, and slowly dies from lack of food and water."
Arksis: "I can't do it."
Jailor: "You must. I can't take the poor sight of him much longer. Look at him. His ragged clothes sagging from his body. The flies are already starting to swarm his body."
Arksis: "He must have a proper execution. What do you expect me to do? Hammer his head in with a mallet until his brains fall out on the floor?"
Jailor: " . . . I don't think we have a choice. Unless you'd prefer an axe."
Arksis: "This is no laughing matter."
Jailor: "I never said it was. Put him out of his misery."
Arksis: "I need a word with him. In private."
Jailor: "No. It's my job as the jailor to make sure you don't do any funny business."
Arksis: "You owe me one. Remember that time where I beat up the brute that tried to break your head with his mug?"
Jailor: "I suppose you're right. If I catch sight of you freeing him, don't expect me not to slip a word to the guards."
Arksis: "You got it."
Jailor: (Footsteps echo down the hall and he vanishes behind a door)
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Arksis was born in a no where town out to the west of Whiterun. When he was born, he killed his mother on the way out. Wasn't born right. Shortly after, his father commited suicide. He was raised as an orphan in the town. Abused by his new found parents, he was forced to do all the chores. At the age of seven, he had already become an expert lumberjack, and could cut down the thickest of trees in five swoops of his axe. While he was out, his parents liked to swing by the bar and order bottles of mead with the gold coins he earned them by collecting lumber. After a tiresome day, Arksis returned home to find his parents drunk. When he approached them, his father pulled a knife out of his pocket and clumsily ran for Arksis, trying to attack him. Arksis attempted to pull out his axe, but failed. The knife barely cut the left of his eye as he was dodging the attack. After another attempt to reach for his axe, he pulled it out and cut his father cleanly in half. After realizing what he had done, he fled.
As he was fleeing from the area, a guard grabbed hold of him and asked him why he was running. Strugging to get out, the guard took him down to the captain of the guard, who temporarily imprisoned him for suspicion of crimes. After later finding the murder scene, the mother of Arksis lied to the guard, and told him that his father was ill, and Arksis came out with his axe and killed him. Arksis was imprisoned for the rest of his days in a dimly lit cell. At least, it was thought that he was to be imprisoned for his life. Arksis met someone there. A young man who had smuggled a lockpick on his way into the prison. He freed himself and freed Arksis. On their way out, an archer shot the man who had freed him in the back, and barely missed Arksis. He ran away and fled into the woods. After camping out there for a month, he went to Whiterun, and worked mysteriously as a bartender. No one ever suspected him.
Great indepth application.
Accepted.
http://www.twitter.com/PoopCoolbro/
ACCEPTED. Very Nice, almost a model for all apps.
Beat you :tongue.gif:
http://www.twitter.com/PoopCoolbro/
Really? I did that application in a hurry. I only really worked for the backstory, everything else was just written quickly without any attention. Thanks, though. :smile.gif:
[EDIT]: I quickly checked the front page. I was excited to get onto the server, and I just kind of stared at the IP.
"Coming soon" What is that supposed to mean? I know it's in beta, but isn't beta supposed to mean we can still play it?
My DSL is completely ****ed lately.
IGN: fsujoseph
Age: 16
Role-Play Exp.: Fallout 3, Oblivion, Skyrim, Fable, some RP on SMP, KOTR, Dragon Age.
Why Us: I absolutely LOVE Skyrim. When I read all the cities, it puts a tingle down my spine, knowing that I've been there!
Time You Can Dedicate: I can dedicate between 0-50 hours a week. It really depends on my liking of the server, and by all means I hope to spend 50!
IC
Name: Zetheroth the 2nd
Race: Nord
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Appearance: Brown, shoulder length hair with a beard and blue eyes. Tall/tan body with battle scars. Dragonborn tattoo over right eye. Muscular body from years spent in the Stormcloak army. Heavy armour for fighting.
Fears: The only fear Zetheroth has IS fear.
Personality: Quiet person. Keeps to himself. Although, during battle his war-cry can be heard vibrating against the mountains of Skyrim, striking fear into his opponents.
Occupation: Stormcloak general.
Skills: Smithing, Heavy Armour, Restoration magic, Blocking, and One-handed.
Nickname (Optional):
RP Example (Add Dialogue): 'Tonight, my friends; tonight we fight to bring back what was taken! We are the Stormcloaks! We will defeat them! Blood! Blast! AND FIRE! CHARGE!
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Zetheroth was born under his fathers name; Zetheroth the 1st. His father was a general in the Stormcloak rebellion. Zetheroth was a simple-minded child and wanted to be just that. A general. He was tested, fighting trolls, wolves, and the deadly Frostbite spider. He passed all the tests with apparent ease as his grim smile was the last image his opponents saw. His tutors were appalled at his speed in heavy armour and the way he worked the forge with little effort. He was a natural.
As Zetheroth finally joined the Stormcloaks they were bombarded by the imperials. Many men were lost that day, including his father. Zetheroth's mourning could be heard throughout Skyrim, which is what he is known for. His enemy's cowered in fear as his sword smashed down upon them like a knife would through butter. His name is Zetheroth...he wants vengeance, he wants glory, he wants a dragon's head.
It is not a Beta its under contruction
The map we are using is under construction, thus the wait.
I was attempting to do something other than the generic:
My character was born in X, all his family died, he's come to Skyrim to chew gum and kick ass.
Denied. You seem to be one of those glory hounds that wants to be a Dovakiin tank. It also doesn't help having a very short and shoddy backstory and a shoddy rp example(if one calls it that).
Love the They Live/Duke Nukem reference! And yes, that's the worst cliche.
I know what you mean. I enjoy reading something different, it was a just a bit too short.
I understand, I know what you mean by generic. May I make another one, please?
IGN: Reip
Age: 17
Role-Play Exp.: Been admin in a rp server (Kingdom of Baktrainia) Fallout: Rocketeers
Why Us: Your the first with a skyrim server
Time You Can Dedicate: 4 hours weekdays and 5+ hours weekends (when i don't work)
IC
Name: S-Dar'Jidahra
Race: Khajiit
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Appearance: Medium frame, tall, Good looking (for Khijiit), Neat, Light armor; Fur or leather.
Fears: Being surrounded
Personality: Calm until either some one steals from him or see's him stealing.
Occupation: He likes to steal from rich people just as a pastime, and he steals from lords for a little thrill.
Skills: Lock-Picking, Stealth, archery
Nickname (Optional):
RP Example (Add Dialogue):
Guard: You there! STOP!
Guard: You violated the law! Pay the court of fine or serve your sentence!
Me: Wait what? (Khijiit accent) I didn't steal anything?!!
Guard: Who said anything about stealing?
Me: Urmmm *scratch's head* Me, stealing heh?...
*push's the guard on the ground and starts running away*
*guards searching for the Khajiit*
*Passes by me in other clothes*
Guard: You, khijiit, have you seen one of your kind running away this direction?
Me: Yes he went in that dark allay down there *points down the allay*
Guard: Thank you sir! Lets go boys!
Me: *evil laugh*
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): S-Dar'Jidahra was born in Morrowind. His father was a tribe leader and mother was a thief. He lived in Morrowind for the first 10 years of his life. because of his mother S-Dar'Jidahra Learned the way of stealth and lock-Picking. He stole his first item at the age of 8 from a old lady that was talking to his mother. Then at the age of 9 his father teached Jidahra how to shoot with a bow. He slowly got good at it. Then at the age of 10 him and his many was wanted so they left for Cyrodil. They didn't stay long in cyrodil. So they moved to Skyrim. They arrived when Jidahra was about 15 years old.
So now that Jidahra arrived in skyrim he learned that dragons were back. Tho he couldn't just leave like that and also he leaned that there dragon lord was dead. So he decided to stay and make a new life. So he told his family that he would go his own way. So he left for WhiteRun. When he arrived there was already a Khijiit camp installed outside the castle. He asked why and he learned that Khijiit's were not welcome inside WhiteRun. So he started stealing from merchants and wealthy people passing by to enter WhiteRun. He also did some treasure hunt and got a good amount of money with selling all those items. So for years Jidahra lived from stealing and hunting. But now he is looking for a new tribe to live with because his friends sadly got killed by a dragon. And from that point I start my new story...
Yes feel free to try agian!
Yeah, after posting I reread the entire front page, scanning for information. I was just too lazy to edit my post for one word because loading the edit, the forums, the page, looking for my post and all that would take too much of my time. It wasn't a critical error anyways.
You have unlimited second chances! Colbinile is cool like that!