It feels like years since I've posted in Minecraft forums. Feel free to add me on skype if you wish: ascothero
Also, sorry if my character’s background sounds concrete with this on-the-fly lore I wrote. It can easily be dismissed because she migrated from this place anyway. I just needed something to work off of.
OOC:
IGN: Revolvingocelot
Age: 21
How did you find this server? I was checking out forums for a new roleplay server to join and found this server.
IC:
Name: Sa'andras
Race: Human
Age: 20
Personality: Sa'andras is curious but also very strong willed. She keeps her heart on her sleeve so to speak, calling things out as they are or sometimes being wary of others. In other words, she is very opinionated and stubborn. It's not hard to see who is she is because she is very vocal about her intuition or feelings. Whenever she isn’t, it’s usually when she places a facade on people she doesn’t trust. Other the other note, she is not dull. Being a hunter has given her the foresight into reading the behaviours of others but not as great as an experienced hunter. She is still very young, and can be clumsy about her readings.
She comes from a very small village with old traditional customs. Many of them involve not questioning many of the people in the society. In this case, Sa’andras would be able to hide who she really is a spend answering questions to herself. She is very independent, so she would be able to figure things out on her own and tries to break out of many of the old traditions. Considering her age as well, she hopes to learn about all the things outside of her village.
Appearance: She’s what the people of her village call a child of the forest, steaks of painted mud and bits of long, matted hair from the dirt and debris one catches while playing in the woods. She is short, 5’2”, eyes of gold, with dark brown long hair that stretches down her back. She is slim and light on her feet, able to climb many trees without fear and run far and fast. Because of her appearance, she is swift and able to get out of the way or hide from many perils the forests may bring upon her.
Her clothes consist of an old leather vest, handed down to her by her father who is a hunter. She wears light fibre woven clothes that are strong to withstand all the activities she does in the forests. The colour scheme of her outfit is of simple earth tones to match the hue of the forest. She doesn’t take to wearing skirts or Sarong-like fibre skirts like many of the women of her village, but takes on short pants like the hunters do and often Sa’andras tries to take on the ways of her free thinking father.
Ambitions: Sa’andras aspires to travel outside of her forest haven and meet the many people outside of her world. She hopes to interact with other people possibly outside of her small village and understand what’s out there. She is very open to learning new customs and very understanding about what dangers or adventures may be out there. Under her rebellious attitude, she is very kind and loving.
Much of her ambition to travel was brought upon by her father, a free thinker, as her village calls it. He taught her to hide her inner opinions and try to learn what is out there, to gain knowledge from the safe haven of their village.
Likes: Meeting new people and speaking to others. Despite being independent, she really enjoys the companies of others she finds interesting. She also enjoys forests and wooded areas. The things she most enjoys are fresh food and the smell of the forest after the rain.
Many of her likes involve her curious personality and how she is able to gain knowledge and answers to things she wants to understand. The more material likes she has are of Earthly essences such as things that grow organically around her.
Dislikes: She hates it when she doesn’t have the answer to something, or if the answer to something isn’t straight to the point. She likes being direct and to the point. She also doesn’t like being questioned when she doesn’t have the answer to something yet. Since she is also stubborn, she doesn’t enjoy getting into arguments unless she is able to win at them.
The other types of dislikes Sa’andras would have are of people she cannot understand or cannot read. She has a lot of patience but when it comes to people who test her patience or often belittle her, it bothers her quite a bit.
Roleplay Example: “It’s the daughter of the freethinker…” “Oh look, if it isn’t the spawn of the free thinker.” “..It’s the hunter’s daughter.”
Many voices whispered around Sa’andras, eying her as she passed by the bustling marketplace. She hung her head low under her cloak, trying to keep her eyes away from the others, trying not to draw attention. She was tired of being known as a free thinker, only because her father bore the title before her. She was always taught never to stare, never to seem to seem like you can speak out or know more than the others around you lest they punish you.
It had been the tenth moon her father had been missing from the hunting party. She had not heard or seen from him since. Not a return party, not a courier, and not even a small note in their meeting place in the woods. She had been waiting, hoping, that her father would return... But there was no trace of him.
She clenched her fists and went to the sage of their village, an old man greying in age. He sported a long beard draped down on the sandstone before him, out from the carpet in the middle of the marketplace he was sitting on. He was dressed in an oversized cloak that was covering over his body and face, only his long nose and beard seemed to be showing. Nothing to indicate that he was asleep or watching the people around him attentively. Saandras stood before him, among the pots and little money jars filled with the town’s currency in front of him. She then sat down before him, kneeling.
“Have you word of my father, sage?” She asked looking at eye level with the aged man. The sage could only breathe slowly as if in deep sleep or meditation. Though the marketplace was loud and full of energy, Sa’andras, being near the mystic man could hear his even breaths despite there being many people walking past them. He had a certain energy about him, which almost felt like he could stop time at will.
The sage seemed to smirk under his long grey beard. A small gruff sound like a grunt was emitted from his still lips. “Yes…” He said in a breath as if he could not move his lips. “Free thinking child. Yes..”
Sa’adras leaned close to the man, feeling her heart racing in her chest wildly. “Yes…?”
“Yes,” The sage said finally, seeming to awaken as he straightened up his posture in a rather slow manner. ”Your father… He’s out there, child. He very well is. The hunter. But he is not well, and you will not be as well within a moon.” “What?” “I’m afraid your father has had a conflict with the elder. he is not to return alive and within a moon you must flee here, child. This village is not for you.”
Sa’andras only gritted her teeth from the news, shaking with anger. She could not go against the Sage. He was the only mystic of their village who was the only one who could answer all. She could have gone to him from the start but she could not. Only because she was afraid and anxious of what he could tell her. She could feel hot tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she was staring at the sage in disbelief. From behind her, two voices rose up in a shout.
“Free thinker!” They called, as Sa’andra stood up, turning quickly at the voices. Two guards, tall in leather were coming towards her. “Free thinker, come with us.”
“No!” Sa’andras cried and ran, running from the old sage and the marketplace. She pushed past the many people who were gossiping and looking at the scene. She made her way past the village huts and small districts and finally away from the rest of the people in the area. The guards who had called her were in pursuit and was keeping an even pace as she darted past the gates and back into the safe haven of the trees around the village.
That was probably the last moon Sa’andras saw of her village.
How did you find this server?: Recommended by a friend
IC:
Name: Durim "Red-Hammer" Snarrisnev
Race: Dwarf
Age: About 200 years old (Based on Lord Of the Rings dwarf lifespan)
Personality: Calm and relaxed. He is very friendly, talkative and tries to be understanding of others. If he must use violence he remains quiet and does not show the least amount of enthusiasm towards fighting. He is very enthusiastic when asked to craft something with his forge.
Appearance: Very old. His hair is white, with a braided beard that goes down to his chest. He wears studded leather armour, made by himself, and always has an apron and a set of tools around his waist. A black eye patch covers his left eye.
Ambitions: To create the most beautiful weapons, armour and such till the day of his death finally comes. And try to redeem himself for what he has done.
Likes: Tea, the hot coals of a furnace, works of metal smithing, nature, growing crops, making friends, rain.
Durim opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he was momentarily blinded by the sun. He slowly got up from his wooden chair and looked to his left, where a small boy he knew very well was waiting for him to speak. It seemed like yesterday when his family had just come to the valley. He seemed to suddenly notice he had awoken the napping dwarf, his face turning into one of regret.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you whe-"
"Don't beat yourself over it Aaron. What do you need?" He asked with an easy smile.
The boy looked down, looking unsure of what he was about to say. Finally he mustered enough courage to speak.
"I was just wondering...You make all those swords and shiny metal armours...Did you ever fight? Like...In a war?" He asked, still looking like he regretted waking the dwarf up.
Durim's smile faded. As much as he wanted to forget, as much as he wanted to let it in the past...He couldn't. And now the boy had triggered those memories. It wasn't the child's fault. He couldn't know. The dwarf let out a heavy sight and took a minute before he spoke again.
"No...Never in a war...But once I went hunting for someone who took something very special from me...It took years...And when I finally found him...He wasn't the same person who had hurt me...And yet I..." Durim stopped, looking like he was reflecting on what to say before deciding it wasn't for the best. He wasn't read to know the truth. Not yet.
"I'll tell you when you are older, alright?" He just said, trying to smile at the boy who had been attentively listening to him all along. He quickly nodded and, after saying goodbye, scampered back to his house. Durim raised from his chair and returned to his workshop to prepare himself some tea...Sometimes, he wished he had something stronger to make those memories go away, but he knew that they would chase him. Straight to the grave.
How did you find this server?: Unit117 directed me here.
IC:
Name: Nabil
Race: Human
Age: 28
Personality: Nabil is a disgruntled man whose conflicting aspirations are caught between his conscience and his desire for vengeance. He is known to be isolated and highly paranoid. In an effort to evade all contact with other humans, he is practically nocturnal. The only residents who have seen him on a regular basis are the bartender of the local tavern where he makes a visit late each night as well as the blacksmith who sharpens his sword and tunes up his armor on a weekly basis. However, Nabil is always accompanied by his loyal husky and sole companion, Alya. He has not the slightest care for any other person nor does he have any interest in how others perceive him. Most people see him as some mean, mentally unstable hermit, yet what they don’t know is that he was once a prince of an exceptionally affluent aristocratic family. All of his once wealthy and powerful family now ceases to exist and the event that brought about their bloody ending and left him as the lone survivor has produced a man that has lost the ability to love humans.
Appearance: Nabil is a particularly tall man whose height is 6’4”. However, his most defining physical feature is his muscular build. The sheer strength that his body possesses has frightened the few people that have laid eyes upon him. A rough, dark brown beard covers every inch of skin on the lower half of his rugged face. His head is topped with relatively lengthy dark brown hair that flows freely over his upper back. Despite his unkempt appearance he is very devoted to maintaining good hygiene. Nabil’s dark, lifeless eyes appear as black pits that can bore holes into the souls of those who make eye contact with him. His skin is consistently tan because of his lineal relation to a desert people. A set of cumbersome, iron armor is his choice of everyday apparel and he is consistently equipped with his precious iron broad sword that has much more sentimental value than actual worth.
Ambitions: Nabil has lost all that he once loved, with the exception of his beloved canine, Alya. He is torn between using the values bestowed upon him by his parents and his passionate drive to exterminate all of those associated with his family’s deaths. He makes a handsome profit as a mercenary, yet will only murder those who he believes are worthless. This includes thieves, bandits, and thugs. Nabil is a skilled warrior and emotionlessly slaughters his targets. Despite his hopeless outlook, deep within his heart resides a desire to start anew and put his past behind him. However, that weak desire is suffocated by intense feelings of animosity and sadness. Each moment is a struggle to suppress his emotions to work up the will to live another day.
Likes: Nabil is fond of very little in the world. He continues to live for one reason and one reason only- his adored dog, Alya. One night, years after he had escaped the carnage of his family and wandered into the wilderness as a starving nomad, he collapsed onto the dirt in exhaustion. He was preparing to plunge his sword into his chest and end his torture when he heard the quiet whimpering of a newborn puppy. He immediately forgot his self-pity and began to walk in the direction from which the noise originated. About twenty yards away a puppy, no larger than Nabil’s palm, trembled violently as it burrowed into a small enclave in a hillside. Nabil cautiously removed the creature from its shelter and the puppy that came to be known as Alya huddled against his chest as the whimpering disappeared. It was then that Nabil’s feelings of emptiness and despair were replaced by one of love for the animal that saved his life.
Dislikes: Nabil is generally indifferent about most things and people. Yet, his miserable nature is derived from a combination of his vitriol for those who butchered his family and a strong hatred of himself for being too weak to save his family and for being too weak to avenge his family’s deaths. His mind is frequently occupied with thoughts of how he would singlehandedly annihilate each and every member of the group that slaughtered his family and how he would gruesomely torture the enemy leader. However, he is well aware that his ambitions could never become true for his opponents far outweigh him in resources and ability. Furthermore, Nabil has not the slightest notion of where they might be located and no one in his current hometown could assist him with this predicament. Lastly, he blames himself and himself only for not being to save his family and so his vendetta against himself is nearly greater than his hatred for his adversaries.
Roleplay Example: The lowly bandits huddled around a flickering campfire in the frigid air of the night. One casually stood guard beside the dying fire and occasionally tossed a log upon it in a weak effort to preserve its warmth. The guard’s hands had long grown numb and he could no longer feel the handle of the cutlass that he carried at his side. The night was eerily quiet, with the only audible sound coming from the crackling of the flames. One of the bandits asked for another log and the guard was fulfilling the request when the bandit witnessed a sole arrow make a direct hit with the guard’s left eyeball. The bandit had no time to react, for a second arrow made a clean cut into his head a second later. The remaining twenty bandits mobilized quickly, utilizing prior combat experience. They dove for cover behind tents, supply crates, and sitting logs and unsheathed their weapons awaiting the arrival of their concealed attacker. The bandits tried desperately to peer into the thick darkness, yet nothing was visible outside a small circle of light provided by the campfire. They were essentially sitting ducks in the only illuminated area while the unknown attacker drifted unseen in the shadows. One bandit armed with a single bladed axe called out to his companions, “Just stay in cover. He’ll then have to come within our field of view and that’s when we’ll take him…” But before he could utter his last words, an arrow struck him in the back of the head.
At that moment, another bandit cried, “I’m done waiting for him to kill us all! Let’s bring the fight to him!” Four of the bandits accepted the one’s strategy and followed him into the night in the direction from which the last arrow emerged. The other bandits crouched in their hiding positions in complete silence. A few seconds later, the unmistakable sound of gurgling blood could be heard along with the clattering of weapons. The fight lasted only ten more minutes and officially concluded with the decapitation of the bandit leader. Nibal, the mercenary, threw the blood drenched head in a deerskin bag. Now having proof of the leader’s death, he could deliver the head and obtain his reward for the contract- a sizeable 5,000 pieces of gold worth of gems. After returning to his cabin, Nibal patted his husky, Alya, on the head as the dog barked joyfully at his arrival. He poured half a glass of hard liquor and sat at his desk where a single candle delivered an orange glow over a collection of heavily marked maps and papers. He was determined to avenge his family and he would do so at any cost. As Nibal began to study his work, he assured himself that this time failure would not be an option.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
4/21/2011
Posts:
109
Minecraft:
Game_Geek
Member Details
Seems like an interesting server.
OOC: IGN: Cloudchaser_ Age:20 How did you find this server? Referred by friend's (revolvingocelot and kralion) on the back of a Tuk-Tuk
IC: Name: Biggs'melona(Biggs' for short) Race: Human, Female Age: 24
Personality: At a youthful age of twenty four, Biggs' is a spunky individual, who often seems quirky and energetic. She is a caring and gentile youth, always finding time for others in need; whether to help them in their duties or to lend an ear to those who seek comfort. Her keen ear has helped to ensure her safety in more grim moments of her past, but those stories are for another time. Despite her seemingly feminine and tentative nature, she is an assertive and independent individual, who has no qualms about laying down the rules or having her nose at the grindstone.Just like her ancestors before her, she is dab hand at mining. Working hard for her families small corporation GR7 - she specialises in exploring the deep-caves that would send most men running in fear. She also currently studies as an apprentice in the art of Saddling, hoping to increase her leather-working skills, that would prove useful in taking care of her mining fatigues. Most would think that a girl would despise being in such a horrid dank place, but the darkness of the caves of Haraveth are welcoming and familiar for the young upstart, who often spends her hours awake during the cold and still evenings, tending to her duties.
Appearance: Standing at a relatively small height of 5'5" Biggs' is often described as a cute young individual, a small button nose adorns her face followed by a light sprinkling of freckles. Her brown silken hair follows a sharp curve that rise from a sharp point at her jaw leading up to her eyes that are a deep shade of green (not too dissimilar to the emeralds that she seeks with fervour. ) Despite her small frame she has some healthy curves; an attribute that she can often use to her 'advantage' when she needs something from certain men that aren't so pure of heart.Her attire, consists of various worn raw hide leather garments, that have seen a lot of use in times spent underground . The once strong brown jacket that would beam brilliantly in the moonlight, has now faded to a dull listless grey, stained over the years by the stone dust and soot in the mines . Her favourite piece of equipment however is her gas light mining helmet (that helps her to see even in the darkest and most foul caves) handed down to by her grandfather Biggs'o'Alfred - co-founder of the GR7 mining contortion and one of the best miners to grace the land.
Ambitions: Despite her strong will and intent, she often finds herself unable to dream of her goals in life. Drifting through life one day at a time, she chooses to spend each day in the mine, alone and in solemnity. Digging and drilling, hoping that one day she might unearth a better future for herself.
Likes: When she isn't mining throughout the day, Biggs' likes to spend her time walking in the moonlight, alone where she can think to herself. She is modest in her want's, to come home to her small shack, where she can close the curtains to block the rising sun has become a comforting regime for the youngster. The dark is comforting and for some time now she hasn't even seen the sun. Despite this she still finds time to visit the local tavern, where she enjoys drowning her sorrows at the bottom of a mead filled tankard, with the other working men whom are grateful of her company.
Dislikes: Only one thing makes her gut writhe more than anything...to be called a coward. Such an act tends to evoke waves of seething blood and rage from the young female. It is if someone has flicked a small switch from "think" to "ignore safety, prove them wrong". Nobody calls her a chicken and she'll damn well prove anyone wrong who has the audacity to say such a foolish thing to her. It's safe to say more than a few men have had some unsavoury bites of their hat's so to speak.
Roleplay Example: Just giving a small example, since a lot of role-play is actually text driven chat and not a small story.
A small breeze flowed through the cold morning air as Biggs' set out her tools in preparation for her daily descent into the caves. "Dammit..." she muttered to herself, "...out of fuel from the lamp again." She looked around carefully, hastily working her way through the mess of containers at the base of her workbench. "Aha, here you are!" she exclaimed in delight. She leant into the mess of tools and clustered objects that littered the container, and proceeded to take out some redstone torches. "Well you aren't the best source of light, but until I we get some gas from my headlamp you'll have to make do!" Slowly, she put them in her knapsack and began collecting up the rest of her tools that were strewn across the workbench before her. As she walked towards the cave entrance she caught a glimpse of the local barkeep, bringing in some new meads for the evenings libations. "Some new brew's I see eh?" she questioned, as she adjusted the harness around her hips. The old dwarf that was tending to the kegs, slowly rose his rosy cheeks shining bright in the morning light. A big smile across his face, he rubbed at the tips of his wirey moustache. "Eye lass! Can we expect to have your company tonight, these fine meads won't be drinking themselfs you know." "There's two things you can count on Mr.McGhee." She paused to make a final adjustment top her backpack. "That I will mine into the night, and that I'll return for a fine drink at your tavern after a days work." giving a wry smile, she nodded to the dusty old dwarf and continued on her way.
How did you find this server?: my friend Duracelplus wanted me to join so here i am to apply
IC:
Name: Daka
Race: Orc
Age: 30
Personality:
Daka is has two views of people. Either you’re stronger then her and someone she should look up to or you’re weaker then her.
When dealing with those weaker then her she barely give them the time of day unless she has become close to them. She will only speak in Orc to them thinking they could at least learn the strongest language. Since she knows the common tongue she does understand people and if she is in a situation where she must answer the person she will usually insult them, still speaking only in Orc.
When dealing with people she looks up to she tends to be much calmer and more accommodating, she’ll even use common if they prefer it. She tends to still keep to herself but if they ask a question she’ll still answer.
While she tries to keep to herself if someone does need her she’ll help out, as there isn’t usually much she can do normally. Because of her height and weight, which disgust her, she feels she is much weaker then most Orcs so she tries to help out her clan by thinking up traps to defend their home, using her brain more then the muscle she believes she doesn’t have.
She doesn’t like anyone who looks down on defense, since she believes that is the only thing she can do, and thinks that all you need is offence. If someone shows those kind of views she will ignore them completely unless they outright attack her or someone she looks up to.
Appearance: Daka is only 6'8" and weighing 220lbs she was born along the coast so she is blue skinned, she has mud brown hair and eyes, she keeps her hair really short so it won’t cause any problems for her.
She wears leather-covering most of her body; she covers everything but her head, because she sometimes deals with fire. It is a very simple design as any extra material might get caught in something.
She also has scars all over her hands from having TNT go off by accident near her, which is why she doesn’t deal with it now. She also lost her right pinky because of the small explosion. She carries a wood sword mostly using it to help herself get away since she believes she wouldn’t win if she fought someone face to face.
Ambitions: Daka has two ambitions at this point in her life, one long-term one short-term. Since she left her original clan, because they only wanted to attack and never defend, her short-term ambition is to find a new clan that actually agrees with her that defense is something they need.
Her long-term ambition is to devise the best traps to keep her clan safe. Make it so that no one can ever get in if they don’t want them to. She wants to be so good that her traps create legends that if someone tries to attack her clan no one will survive.
Likes: Daka has two things about her traps she like; the first is creating new ones she hadn’t thought of before and the second is when they work on someone. Since it is the only time she will beat someone she takes great joy whenever they defeat someone.
Outside of her traps she has a few other joys, since she was born near the coast she really enjoys swimming, it relaxes her and she could spend a whole day doing it if she got the chance. She prefers to swim in lakes and river more then the ocean as she doesn’t really relaxed when fighting the waves.
She also really enjoys digging. Sometimes she’ll find something new to use in a trap other times she’ll find nothing at all. Being down in tunnels by herself give her time to think and it is something to do with her hands when she doesn’t have anything else to od.
Dislikes: since Daka already doesn’t like how short and weak she is she doesn’t like anyone who looks down on her for it, while she can beat herself up about it as much as she wants she won’t let anyone else do it.
She also doesn’t like it when people believe there is no need for defense ever. Being all about frontal attacks is okay in her book but if you insult defending your home so you have someplace to go back to that is when she starts to hate you.
Outside of defending her self and her choice in what she does with her time. She also doesn’t like the sun to much. Unlike most of the coastal Orc’s she would be totally fine not seeing the light of day ever.
Roleplay Example:
Daka closed her bag with a nod. She had enough food and supplies for a few days travel. She was leaving her current clan and heading out to find one that wouldn’t look down on her. Her current clan cared nothing for protecting themselves, believing that as long as they kept attacking those around them they wouldn’t be attacked themselves.
She shook her head, that was not something she believed in. she had tried to get them to understand that she could make sure no one came for them, protect their home while they were out fighting, no one had listened to her.
She put her bag on and headed for the door flinching slightly as she entered the light. The town was interesting made mostly of sand stone. She looked around thinking of all the places she could have put traps to protect this place if only they let her. She knew she was a little obsessed with them, but it was her only means to attack. She wasn’t as strong or as intimidating as the other Orcs. She could only think of traps to protect herself from those that attacked her.
That was why she was leaving. Those around her looked her down on because of her short height and low weight. She hoped that moving to another clan might make things even a little bit better.
She took one last look around before leaving her clan. Heading northwards, she had heard there was at least one Orc clan up there. Maybe she could convince them to let her protect their home with her traps.
((Tuk-Tuk also I’m sorry for creating lore for the coastal orc’s.))
Kralion - You need to expand a bit on your appearance and personality, you should also ride in on a Tuk ~Tuk
We have all the information on races here. http://hareveth.enjin.com/home
Denied.
Endragh - Thanks for the server, you didn't really create lore so I'll let it pass.
GameGeek - Nice app.
How did you find this server?: I was searching through the Minecraft forums.
IC: Tuk-Tuk
Name: Contessa Maine
Race: Human
Age: 18
Personality: Contessa Maine, or Tessa, is an outspoken leader. She prefers to lead the group, rather than be a follower. She takes things very seriously, and doesn't joke very much. Contessa is a very passionate woman about the things she loves. She is kind, but when she has to she will put her foot down. She highly dislikes Skraven (possible spelling error) and tends to look down on anyone who is not human. She is greedy: not only for money, but for power.
Appearance: Contessa Maine is a brown haired, wide-eyed girl. She looks innocent, almost child-like. She wears a blue sweater, lace-up boots, and two bows in her hair; a small bow in front and a larger bow in the back. . She is approximately 5'6". She is very lean, but everything other than skin and bones is muscle. She is strong, but not strong enough to fight off a full grown man. Despite working hard hours in the sun, Tessa does not tan very well.
Ambitions: Tessa wants to be a political leader. She wants to rule, and she won't stop until she can be. Unfortunately, until her time comes, she's stuck being a minor politician and -ugh- a lumberjack.
Likes: Tessa loves politics. More than anything. She also enjoys collecting books and reading.
Dislikes: Tessa hates being poor. She's been poor before, and it was not her cup of tea. She also cannot stand criminals, and she hates snow.
Roleplay Example:
To Tessa's disgust, the day was not nearly over. The sun was high in the sky, and she still had quite a few trees to chop before she could get back to town to mingle, socialize, and earn political favor. Her throat felt scratchy from lack of water, something they often went without during the many hours they worked. She turned towards an older man who was felling the tree next to hers.
"Hey, Arnold, do you have any water? I'm parched." She asked, gesturing to the water bottle at his feet. The man stopped what he was doing and handed her the bottle.
"'Ere, have the rest. I owe ya, afta' ya took mah shift the otha' day."
Tessa gulped down a few ounces, then handed the bottle back, with the rest still in it. "Don't need all of it, but thank you. How's your wife anyway? You said she gave birth to twins?"
Arnold chuckled. "Yep, and they'ah givin' 'er a 'ard time. 'Course, mos' newborns do, bu' there's double tha screamin'."
Tessa internally rolls her eyes, she hated the way Arnold speaks. "I'm sure. If you need any help with them, I'm always willing to lend a hand."
Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Tessah. I owe ya one."
Tessa turns back to her tree and begins to chop again. She mutters under her breath, "Yes, yes you do..."
How did you find this server?: Recommended by a friend
IC:
Name: Tarni "Bear-Hug" Vanyrasdottir
Race: Dwarf
Age: 100 years old. (Which would equal 25 human years approximately)
Personality: Overly-enthusiastic, happy and very interested about animals, either taming or hunting them. Tarni likes to live life to fullest, which to her is to wrestle bears and attempt to play kitty with mountains lions. Of course, this doesn't usually end well to her, and she has the scars to prove it, but she doesn't let it get in the way. To remove her lucky-go-happy attitude, you have to do something quite horrible, and when that happens you don't want to be near the angry dwarf lady.
Appearance: Tarni wears a fox cloak and keeps a bear necklace around her neck, a gift from her father on their first hunt. She wears a heavy blue woollen sweater under it and always keeps a belt loaded with anything she might need under it. (Pic below)
Ambitions: Tarni's greatest dream is to one day hunt a dragon. Of course, that is easier said than done, but that doesn't stop her from gathering information about the great beasts, hoping it will all pay off one day. And who knows, it may...
Likes: Taming and hunting animals, weakness for puppies, making friends, bear hugs, "friendly" wrestling, mead.
Dislikes: Unnecessary use of brutal force, killing defenceless animals (As in, cubs or such), when the mead is gone.
Roleplay Example:
*CRASH*
Tarni grunted as she rose on unsteady legs, the bear's strike having knocked the wind out of her. It might have something to do that it also launched her into the air till she smacked into a tree. Somehow, she was smiling.
"Come on, papa bear! That all you got!?" She taunted as she readied her fists, a massive brown bear stomping through the foliage from where she had been launched. It rose on its hind legs and roared at the dwarf.
Perfect.
Tarni didn't waste her opportunity. She rushed foward while the bear was still on its hind legs and slammed into him with her shoulder. The bear suddenly lost its balance and roared again as it feel down hard, flailing its limbs as it tried to regain its balance.
"Come on, get up you brown-ass beast! I can kick your ugly butt a few more times!" She said, her smile turning into a grin. As if he understood what the dwarf said, the bear turned and regained his footing, moving forward and swiping at the dwarf.
Tarni jumped back, flinching when one of the claws got through her armour and left a small gash on the side of her arm, and readied her next strike, punching the bear straight into the nose. A sickening crunch sounded and the bear whimpered loudly, holding its nose with its front legs.
"Had enough yet!?" Said Tarni as she raised her fists again. The bear turned back and fled back into the forest. Tarni let out a victorious cheer. The blood pumping through her veins, her heart throbbing in her chest...This was what begin alive was for!
How did you find this server?: I was given a link in a Skype chat by Revolvingocelot.
IC:
Name: Clyde
Race: Human
Age: 28
Personality: Clyde has a straightforward personality, if he wants something he makes it clear. He sees everything as a battlefield making him not ever sit still for very long, making people just think he is twitchy.
Appearance: He stands roughly 6'2 with with brown hair kept swept back. Along his jaw is chinstrap beard kept loosely trimmed to, in his words, give him a more menacing appearance. His hazel eyes are underlined with bags from sleepless nights of travel. A white shirt covered with a brown and black vest, kept open, and green slacks are his cloths of choice, complemented by a black hat.
Ambitions:His only ambition is to live life the way he wants, while he will follow someone, if their ideals clash, such on who decides who dies, he himself believing in fate rather then a a king ordering someone to die, he would rather part ways then follow something he doesn't believe in, unless a debt is owed, those whom disrupt his drinks will pay.
Likes: Alcohol, food, females, money, animals, simple company, coordinating defenses, tactics, weapons, his hat
Dislikes: Stuck up folk, upper class, kings, military enforced order
Roleplay Example: "Two days," Clyde muttered under his voice to the three Skaven in tow, " by the third day they will stop looking for you, then you can get out of town simple, to them you all look alike, so they wont recognize you once your out of their minds." "Why man-thing help us-us," replied the lead skaven dagger in hand. Clyde stood there for a moment looking at the dagger, give them an answer they disliked and they might stab him again, the first wound was still throbbing and felt warm as his hand tried to keep the blood in. "Orc threw the first punch, his companion tried to bring his axe down on your two friends there," as he pointed he watched as the lead skaven lowered his knife but still held onto it, releasing a small sigh of relieve, he could take them, maybe, but this wound would not help if they turned on him,"I don't care why you where there or what you plan to do armed to the teeth like that, but you killed those idiots who where ruining my drinks so I returned the favor." After a moment the small knife went back into its sheath, and a small voice replied as they turned to the tunnels behind them, "We owe pink-man, smell green-thug outside he look-search for you-you, now we good-good." Clyde sat there for a moment considering whether to turn his back to where they disappeared to then heard the orc shuffling outside, he knew who he would rather have to deal with. Lifting himself with a sharp grunt, he shambled to the door, "Time to put on a show," he muttered as he shifted his sword to his back, if things went south he wanted to be ready. He stumbled out the door landing in a bewildered orc's hands. "Help the rats, stabbed me." "Where!" shouted the orc, obviously drunk by the smell of his breath, and to drunk to care that a man was bleeding out in his arms, " I will skin those rats alive for killing my mates, make them into rugs!" "The roofs," Clyde muttered, acting like the blood lose was getting to him more then it was," they..." His sentence was cut short as the orc threw him to the ground shouting aloud about the roofs as he ran. Getting up and brushing himself off, he winced as he realized just how hard he was thrown, It would take more then a few drinks to dull the pain on this one...
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be then me." Dr. Robotnik
IGN: InvdrZim13 (skype's the same name if you need/want it)
Age: 19
How did you find this server?: Recommended to me by a friend, who informed me of this server as we were riding tuk-tuks in the desert.
IC:
Name: Jack Morris
Race: Human
Age: 23
Personality: Laid back, cynical, a "smart-ass", in the company of strangers he is reserved, in the company of friends he's more open and talkative.
Appearance: He's around 6'0" with brown eyes and black hair. He wears a brown, hooded cloak over light gray pants and a shirt and lacks facial hair. He looks a few years younger than he really is.
Ambitions: His ultimate goal is to make a meaningful impact on someone or some place. His... less lofty goals include living life undisturbed and being able to pursue whatever interests him. He wishes to find a fortune, and as such he also dabbles in making things and exploring dungeons and tombs looking for treasure as well.
Likes: Being alone or in the company of those he is familiar with, alcohol, planning things out as opposed to spontaneous action
Dislikes: Cowards, cheats, liars, people lacking in common sense
Roleplay Example:
Jack sits alone at a table at "The Intoxicated Axeman", a relatively popular tavern in this town, he sips his drink as he scans the room, waiting for his friend to show up. After some time the doors to the tavern open, and in walks Robert, the friend he was waiting for. Robert looks around before locating Jack and taking a seat at his table. "Jack, I'm surprised you asked me to meet you in such a place, this doesn't seem like somewhere you'd be caught at." Robert jokes. "It wasn't my first choice but all the alleyways were booked by the local populace." Jack says dryly. "Yeah yeah, so, why'd you ask me to come here anyway?" Robert inquires. "I found this cave a few miles outside this town, looked like there could be some good stuff inside." Jack replies. "And you didn't want to go alone? Here I thought you were braver than that." Robert chides. "No, genius. I've got a much higher chance of making it out of that cave alive with some company than I do going in alone." Jack says. "Oh... Yeah, that does make sense." Robert says. "Great. Get your gear and meet me at the western gate in the morning." Jack instructs before finishing his drink off, standing up and leaving the bar, heading to his room at the inn to plan out the events of the next day.
How did you find this server?: It was suggested to me by your administrator, P_Oxide, that I check out this server.
IC: In Character -
Name: Elijah Brightly.
Race: Human.
Age: 23.
Personality: At first glance, Elijah seems apathetic, shady, and deceitful. Once he adjusts to being around a certain person, he will show more emotion. He will show some care, acting polite at times, though he can and will be rude and sarcastic. He does not consider many people to be close to him, maybe a few in total, that's it. If you are one of those few, he will give of an aura that an older brother would; he's protective, compassionate, and caring.
Appearance: Elijah is slightly built. Standing tall at 6'3", he is thin. He has deep cobalt blue eyes, and has a tannish complexion. Something odd about him, though, is most likely the tinge of dark red to his short and curly hair that is almost always tousled. He wears a white cloth on his face, though will take it off often around those he feels comfortable with. He wears white clothing that is lined with a color that resembles sand. He has a white shirt and wears a red scarf with it and insists on wearing a vest over it. His vest is the same color of the lining of his shirt, but it also is purple. His pants are whitish and have purple to them as well. He wears a sandy colored pair of gloves and to top it all off, a pair of brown boots.
Ambitions: Elijah wishes to become better trained with his bow, and also wishes to improve with his forging and crafting.
Likes: Elijah enjoys training with his bow, fishing, and hunting. He loves traveling and exploring, even if he does get horribly lost. He also likes climbing things like trees and such, and doesn't mind crafting his own things every once in a while. He likes having people around him, preferably some he's fond of.
Dislikes: Elijah dislikes most people, though there are a select few he is fond of. He dislikes the thought of staying in one place for a while, which results in him craving the thought of changing things up, such as moving to a different area. He hates silence and will often whistle to replace the ringing in his ears that silence leaves him with.
Roleplay Examples: Elijah sat in the chair, staring at a scar on his arm when suddenly he blinked. He had received it a while back, but had forgotten how.. He thought back to that one day. Snoring lightly, Elijah would be slumped over on a bench in his room. With the sun flickering at his eyes through the crack in the curtains, it would eventually be irritating enough to wake him up. He grumbled and rose to his feet, sleepily stumbling over and pulling the curtains open, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change of light in the room. Once adjusted, he would swiftly dress himself, fixing the scarf inside the vest and pulling a cloth on to cover half of his face. Throwing the door to his room open, he'd step out gleefully, stopping and reaching to tie his boots tightly. He looked around, mumbling a greeting to the woman that he passed by as he grabbed his bow from the nearby table. "I'm going hunting, I'll hopefully be back soon," he had a mischievous grin underneath the cloth, "I'll bring you back a frog, I know how much you adore them," he sang, placing emphasis on the word adore. Before she could respond, he ran out the door, grabbing his quiver on the way out and setting the leather strap on his shoulder as he headed his usual route to the forest. Stepping into the overgrowth of the large trees up above, he smirked. Wandering further into the forest, he would proceed with his usual activities for the day. He would have a disappointed look to his gaze as he soon realized how silent the forest was. There were no innocent animals lurking. Setting his bow aside, he'd lean up against a tree, watching the forest around him. Then it hit him. Thinking back to the look he was given as he mentioned bringing back a frog, he couldn't stop himself from chuckling. Pulling his mask down, he let it sit around his neck. Not many people were out here anyways, nor would they care about what he looked like. He lifted his bow from the side of the tree, holding it to his side. Treading past a murky pond, he suddenly paused, crouching down to look at the pond. He grinned. Gingerly cupping one of the small creatures in his hands, he stood up and briskly walked back to where he was staying. "I set it free though," he said, cutting through his thoughts and setting his mug down as he faded back into his thoughts. "Kziah, I have a surprise," he said, showing off a wolfish grin as he approached the horrified looking woman. "And that's how I got this scar," he said, cutting back into reality. "Right?" he asked, looking at the woman across from him. "Mhm.." the woman across from him mumbled in response, looking slightly upset with him for doing such a thing. "It was a long time ago!" he said in his own defense.
((italic is him thinking back to the day, bold is actual things going on.. psst, Tuk-Tuk))
How did you find this server?: It was suggested to me by your administrator, P_Oxide, that I check out this server.
IC: In Character -
Name: Elijah Brightly.
Race: Human.
Age: 23.
Personality: At first glance, Elijah seems apathetic, shady, and deceitful. Once he adjusts to being around a certain person, he will show more emotion. He will show some care, acting polite at times, though he can and will be rude and sarcastic. He does not consider many people to be close to him, maybe a few in total, that's it. If you are one of those few, he will give of an aura that an older brother would; he's protective, compassionate, and caring.
Appearance: Elijah is slightly built. Standing tall at 6'3", he is thin. He has deep cobalt blue eyes, and has a tannish complexion. Something odd about him, though, is most likely the tinge of dark red to his short and curly hair that is almost always tousled. He wears a white cloth on his face, though will take it off often around those he feels comfortable with. He wears white clothing that is lined with a color that resembles sand. He has a white shirt and wears a red scarf with it and insists on wearing a vest over it. His vest is the same color of the lining of his shirt, but it also is purple. His pants are whitish and have purple to them as well. He wears a sandy colored pair of gloves and to top it all off, a pair of brown boots.
Ambitions: Elijah wishes to become better trained with his bow, and also wishes to improve with his forging and crafting.
Likes: Elijah enjoys training with his bow, fishing, and hunting. He loves traveling and exploring, even if he does get horribly lost. He also likes climbing things like trees and such, and doesn't mind crafting his own things every once in a while. He likes having people around him, preferably some he's fond of.
Dislikes: Elijah dislikes most people, though there are a select few he is fond of. He dislikes the thought of staying in one place for a while, which results in him craving the thought of changing things up, such as moving to a different area. He hates silence and will often whistle to replace the ringing in his ears that silence leaves him with.
Roleplay Examples: Elijah sat in the chair, staring at a scar on his arm when suddenly he blinked. He had received it a while back, but had forgotten how.. He thought back to that one day. Snoring lightly, Elijah would be slumped over on a bench in his room. With the sun flickering at his eyes through the crack in the curtains, it would eventually be irritating enough to wake him up. He grumbled and rose to his feet, sleepily stumbling over and pulling the curtains open, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change of light in the room. Once adjusted, he would swiftly dress himself, fixing the scarf inside the vest and pulling a cloth on to cover half of his face. Throwing the door to his room open, he'd step out gleefully, stopping and reaching to tie his boots tightly. He looked around, mumbling a greeting to the woman that he passed by as he grabbed his bow from the nearby table. "I'm going hunting, I'll hopefully be back soon," he had a mischievous grin underneath the cloth, "I'll bring you back a frog, I know how much you adore them," he sang, placing emphasis on the word adore. Before she could respond, he ran out the door, grabbing his quiver on the way out and setting the leather strap on his shoulder as he headed his usual route to the forest. Stepping into the overgrowth of the large trees up above, he smirked. Wandering further into the forest, he would proceed with his usual activities for the day. He would have a disappointed look to his gaze as he soon realized how silent the forest was. There were no innocent animals lurking. Setting his bow aside, he'd lean up against a tree, watching the forest around him. Then it hit him. Thinking back to the look he was given as he mentioned bringing back a frog, he couldn't stop himself from chuckling. Pulling his mask down, he let it sit around his neck. Not many people were out here anyways, nor would they care about what he looked like. He lifted his bow from the side of the tree, holding it to his side. Treading past a murky pond, he suddenly paused, crouching down to look at the pond. He grinned. Gingerly cupping one of the small creatures in his hands, he stood up and briskly walked back to where he was staying. "I set it free though," he said, cutting through his thoughts and setting his mug down as he faded back into his thoughts. "Kziah, I have a surprise," he said, showing off a wolfish grin as he approached the horrified looking woman. "And that's how I got this scar," he said, cutting back into reality. "Right?" he asked, looking at the woman across from him. "Mhm.." the woman across from him mumbled in response, looking slightly upset with him for doing such a thing. "It was a long time ago!" he said in his own defense.
((italic is him thinking back to the day, bold is actual things going on))
You may want to read the rules, As you have missed something of vital importance.
OOC:
IGN: kayllan19
Age: 15
How did you find this server?: Dalton suggested I apply~ c:
IC:
Name:
Kziah Desjardins
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Personality:
She holds an admirable pride in her art of Sword fighting, and an even more admirable talent for it. Her pride is also her downfall; she can become pretentious and arrogant. She has a very serious nature, and doesn’t often make jokes, when she does they are cold and with ill intent. She thinks clear and concisely, cutting to the core of the subject, and picking apart people to get what she needs. She is very fond of, and caring of her good friends, those that have been 'approved' as such. However she may care about her friends, she is still distant, but less so than she would be with others.
Appearance:
TukTuk you piece of f- heuheuheuue >3>
Ambitions:
Kziah plans to expand her “Legal Advisement” firm. She deals with criminals, fugitives and just regular people in some trouble with the law. Though her business is highly unorthodox, and quite illegal, she plans to expand and build on it, so that she may thrive and make a living out of it.
Likes:
Business; She is a woman made for business, and has an eye for making deals and fixing problems.
Money; Kziah is not one to shy away from the prospect of wealth, she dreams of wanting for nothing.
Sword fighting; She admires the clean, and precise art of swordsmanship, and enjoys the practise.
Dislikes:
Ignorance; People are bad enough without being ignorant as well; you’re either a respectable, educated being, or nothing in Kziah’s eyes.
Authority; Not one to be told what to do or how to do it, she despises figures of authority.
Frogs; A distaste for the foul creatures that extends into her childhood, best not to ask about it.
Role-play Example:Gripping the banister tightly, Kziah smiled at her childhood friend, Elijah, who was waving as he closed the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, her entire body relaxed, she had not realised how tense she had been. She sighed deeply, calming her nerves, her next client was not a patient man, and she had already be forced to postpone their meeting due to Elijah’s need to talk to her for an hour about what they would be eating for the next week. She enjoyed his company, otherwise she would not have put up with him for seventeen years, and however, like many people he irritated her at the best of times.Suddenly remembering how little time she had to meet with her client, she forced herself to move from the stair case, gathering a cloak, her satchel, and at the last second before she left through the front door, her sword. Kziah was not one to take chances, especially ones that could cost her life.
How did you find this server?: I was referred by friends (revolvingocelot, Kralion and GameGeek) on our Tuk-Tuk ride.
IC:
Name: Christopher Solari
Race: Human, Male
Age: 24
Personality: Chris has always had great feeling of empathy and compassion. He was always there to lend a hand to his fellow man or offer a listening ear. Back home this was always initially met with confusion, sometimes distrust and occasionally frowned upon but always welcomed in the end. For in the community Christopher grew up in, you were taught to help yourself first and others later, or not at all. Succes was all that mattered, and the means were nearly always justified if it was achieved. Because his family embraced this culture, he became disconnected from them and could never establish a lasting friendship with anyone from his hometown. This caused Christopher to never feel at home in this environment, and so he set out to travel.
As he traveled to the land of Hareveth, he met his fair share of travelers who were always delighted to get assistance from a fellow traveler. When he arrived the strange new land instantly peeked his curiosity, and he set out to explore the land and meet new people. He found that the people he met were more appreciative of his helpful nature, and he traveled from town to town helping whenever he could, leaving wherever he went a happier place than when he found it.
Appearance: Often said to have a kind face by those who crossed his path, his short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slight stubble beard do not do the word injustice. He wears a simple robe because he could never feel comfortable in the elaborate outfits popular in his hometown. Wearing nothing but his robe and sandals it is clear to see Christopher is not a man of prestige, and rather one of practicality and comfort.
Ambitions: Having no clear goal in life, Christopher wanders the land looking for ways to make himself useful. But this way of living is hardly fulfilling. What Christopher truly wishes is to find a definitive place in society and most importantly, a home.
Likes: Christopher enjoys helping people or making himself useful in any other way. He also likes meditating or just having some time to himself to ponder anything on his mind.
Dislikes: Seeing anyone in any kind of bad mood. Be it dissapointment, stress, exhaustion or something else, Christopher will always try to solve their problems, help them do so themselves or if nothing else, temporarily alleviate their worries.
Roleplay Example: Christopher was walking along the edge of an apple orchard when he spotted an old man in the orchard looking tired and slightly desperate. He called out to him:"Good day stranger, you look like you could use a hand!"
"I sure could, I need to clear this entire orchard before sundown"
Christopher hopped the fence and approached the man.
"My name is Christopher, just tell me what we need to do and I'll get to it"
"I appreciate the offer young man, but I have no way to pay you"
"I didn't ask for payment friend, just say the word"
Christopher and the old man, whose name he found out was Marcus , started working the orchard and the hours flew by as they talked and picked apples. When the sun almost set and their work finally done, Christopher sat down against the back of one of the trees and looked into the orchard, admiring the result of their hard day's work. As Marcus walked by with the last basket of apples, he threw a couple towards Christopher.
"Here 'stranger', you've earned these"
"Thanks Marcus"
"It's getting dark, and my home has a warm hearth. How about you join me for dinner?"
"I appreciate the offer Marcus, but I'm gonna have to be on my way now"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, goodbye Marcus, and farewell"
"Thanks for the help, and good luck on your travels!"
How did you find this server?: I was referred by friends (revolvingocelot, Kralion and GameGeek) on our Tuk-Tuk ride.
IC:
Name: Christopher Solari
Race: Human, Male
Age: 24
Personality: Chris has always had great feeling of empathy and compassion. He was always there to lend a hand to his fellow man or offer a listening ear. Back home this was always initially met with confusion, sometimes distrust and occasionally frowned upon but always welcomed in the end. For in the community Christopher grew up in, you were taught to help yourself first and others later, or not at all. Succes was all that mattered, and the means were nearly always justified if it was achieved. Because his family embraced this culture, he became disconnected from them and could never establish a lasting friendship with anyone from his hometown. This caused Christopher to never feel at home in this environment, and so he set out to travel.
As he traveled to the land of Hareveth, he met his fair share of travelers who were always delighted to get assistance from a fellow traveler. When he arrived the strange new land instantly peeked his curiosity, and he set out to explore the land and meet new people. He found that the people he met were more appreciative of his helpful nature, and he traveled from town to town helping whenever he could, leaving wherever he went a happier place than when he found it.
Appearance: Often said to have a kind face by those who crossed his path, his short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slight stubble beard do not do the word injustice. He wears a simple robe because he could never feel comfortable in the elaborate outfits popular in his hometown. Wearing nothing but his robe and sandals it is clear to see Christopher is not a man of prestige, and rather one of practicality and comfort.
Ambitions: Having no clear goal in life, Christopher wanders the land looking for ways to make himself useful. But this way of living is hardly fulfilling. What Christopher truly wishes is to find a definitive place in society and most importantly, a home.
Likes: Christopher enjoys helping people or making himself useful in any other way. He also likes meditating or just having some time to himself to ponder anything on his mind.
Dislikes: Seeing anyone in any kind of bad mood. Be it dissapointment, stress, exhaustion or something else, Christopher will always try to solve their problems, help them do so themselves or if nothing else, temporarily alleviate their worries.
Roleplay Example: Christopher was walking along the edge of an apple orchard when he spotted an old man in the orchard looking tired and slightly desperate. He called out to him:"Good day stranger, you look like you could use a hand!"
"I sure could, I need to clear this entire orchard before sundown"
Christopher hopped the fence and approached the man.
"My name is Christopher, just tell me what we need to do and I'll get to it"
"I appreciate the offer young man, but I have no way to pay you"
"I didn't ask for payment friend, just say the word"
Christopher and the old man, whose name he found out was Marcus , started working the orchard and the hours flew by as they talked and picked apples. When the sun almost set and their work finally done, Christopher sat down against the back of one of the trees and looked into the orchard, admiring the result of their hard day's work. As Marcus walked by with the last basket of apples, he threw a couple towards Christopher.
"Here 'stranger', you've earned these"
"Thanks Marcus"
"It's getting dark, and my home has a warm hearth. How about you join me for dinner?"
"I appreciate the offer Marcus, but I'm gonna have to be on my way now"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, goodbye Marcus, and farewell"
"Thanks for the help, and good luck on your travels!"
IGN:
Dexevara Age:
18 How did you find this server?:
RevolvingOcelot, Kralion and Game_Geek referred it to me. Tuk-Tuk
IC: Name:
Melenas Race:
Human Age:
28
Personality:
He’s reserved and serious. He follows his own code which seems to be led by honor and loyalty. He seems cold and unlikable because of his mistrust of strangers but once you get on his good side he can be extremely warm and friendly. He seem to have been wandering for a long time and always as a lot of stories to tell, which may not always be entirely true once he gets a couple pints. He always stay true to what he believes to be right, he considers order and justice to be some of the most important things in a society. He also seem to have a strange affinity to nature like if he had somekind of connection to it.
Appearance:
He has a strong and imposing stature, standing at 6’3 with broad shoulders he wears a plate armor completed by multiple chainmail accessories amplifying his size.Over his plate armor he wears a dark green tabard with the emblem of some old forgotten house. His face combines a strange mix of severity and delicacy, partially covered by a well-trimmed dark brown beard. He usually wear a chainmail hood that covers his mid-length chestnut hair that make his dark brown eyes look like 2 sphere of obsidian. His strong nose peeks over is bearded lip and his smoothly drawn mouth.
Ambitions:
Melenas doesn’t consider himself a man of ambition, he does what he need to survive and what he needs to help those he swore to protect, further than that he doesn’t think dream of anything in particular. He assumes that if things are to get better, they will.
Likes:
Even if he is mainly a soldier he always had something for nature. As far as he can remember he always enjoyed the company of animals and vegetation. He usually carries plants with him for balms and such, he consider his relation with nature as a blessing. He takes only what he needs and make use of everything he takes. Obviously he is a skilled sword man who enjoys a good fight and the glory of the battle. He likes those who can live for their conviction or at least respect them. He is also someone who isn’t afraid to drink and feast when he can.
Dislikes:
He dislikes those who can’t respect order, those without discipline or moral values. He despises cheats and frauds or any dishonorable beings.
RoleplayExample:
Younger Melenas, clothed of light leather armor, is riding a horse as fast he can through the forest. A horn blow can be heard behind him as he tries to go faster. He turns around to look at his pursuers who seem to be getting closer. Holding his messenger satchel closer to him ducks in an vain attempt to go faster. The rain makes it difficult for him to keep balance on the leather saddle. Suddenly as another horn blow can be heard, his horse slips on the slippery rocky trail. He is then thrown off the back off his horse and falls on the hard ground. All his body is aching but he knows he has no other choice but try to keep going. As he tries to get back up, his pursuers are catching up. On the ground, Melenas only hear the rain beating his ears. A tall man in dark plate armor gets off the back of his horse and starts to walk to the crawling boy. Melena seeing him from the corner of his eyes tries to get up but suddenly get forced back down by a painful kick from the man. The boot that kicked him his now crushing is chest against the ground. As he ripped cut the bag loose from Melenas’s grip the man shouted over the loud weather “Where are you going with these, Courier?” Melenas kept quiet, looking at the man angrily. The boot dug deeper in Melenas’s spine, “You don’t need to die today boy, just tell me where the recipients of these letters are, sooner or later we will find out anyway so be glad I give you the chance to save your life.” Melenas lowered his angry eyes full of tears to the ground as the pain grew stronger and sharper in his back. The young boy with shame on his face started muttering something; the man took him by the shoulders and took the boy’s mouth closer to his ear “What did you say?” Melenas sobbing repeated in the man’s ear “They…they are at the…castle” he took a deep breath and went on “Castle Sparrow’s End”. The man satisfied called one of his men to come and take the kid with them. Melenas, defeated looked at the tall man who had just crushed him as he was taken away. The man pulled out his sword and quickly killed Melenas’s wounded horse. The man gave the horse one last sad look and went back on his horse. Melenas, now riding with one of the enemy riders, was out of strength and finally fell unconscious on the horse.
Feel free to add me on skype if you wish: ascothero
Also, sorry if my character’s background sounds concrete with this on-the-fly lore I wrote. It can easily be dismissed because she migrated from this place anyway. I just needed something to work off of.
OOC:
IGN: Revolvingocelot
Age: 21
How did you find this server? I was checking out forums for a new roleplay server to join and found this server.
IC:
Name: Sa'andras
Race: Human
Age: 20
Personality: Sa'andras is curious but also very strong willed. She keeps her heart on her sleeve so to speak, calling things out as they are or sometimes being wary of others. In other words, she is very opinionated and stubborn. It's not hard to see who is she is because she is very vocal about her intuition or feelings. Whenever she isn’t, it’s usually when she places a facade on people she doesn’t trust. Other the other note, she is not dull. Being a hunter has given her the foresight into reading the behaviours of others but not as great as an experienced hunter. She is still very young, and can be clumsy about her readings.
She comes from a very small village with old traditional customs. Many of them involve not questioning many of the people in the society. In this case, Sa’andras would be able to hide who she really is a spend answering questions to herself. She is very independent, so she would be able to figure things out on her own and tries to break out of many of the old traditions. Considering her age as well, she hopes to learn about all the things outside of her village.
Appearance: She’s what the people of her village call a child of the forest, steaks of painted mud and bits of long, matted hair from the dirt and debris one catches while playing in the woods. She is short, 5’2”, eyes of gold, with dark brown long hair that stretches down her back. She is slim and light on her feet, able to climb many trees without fear and run far and fast. Because of her appearance, she is swift and able to get out of the way or hide from many perils the forests may bring upon her.
Her clothes consist of an old leather vest, handed down to her by her father who is a hunter. She wears light fibre woven clothes that are strong to withstand all the activities she does in the forests. The colour scheme of her outfit is of simple earth tones to match the hue of the forest. She doesn’t take to wearing skirts or Sarong-like fibre skirts like many of the women of her village, but takes on short pants like the hunters do and often Sa’andras tries to take on the ways of her free thinking father.
Ambitions: Sa’andras aspires to travel outside of her forest haven and meet the many people outside of her world. She hopes to interact with other people possibly outside of her small village and understand what’s out there. She is very open to learning new customs and very understanding about what dangers or adventures may be out there. Under her rebellious attitude, she is very kind and loving.
Much of her ambition to travel was brought upon by her father, a free thinker, as her village calls it. He taught her to hide her inner opinions and try to learn what is out there, to gain knowledge from the safe haven of their village.
Likes: Meeting new people and speaking to others. Despite being independent, she really enjoys the companies of others she finds interesting. She also enjoys forests and wooded areas. The things she most enjoys are fresh food and the smell of the forest after the rain.
Many of her likes involve her curious personality and how she is able to gain knowledge and answers to things she wants to understand. The more material likes she has are of Earthly essences such as things that grow organically around her.
Dislikes: She hates it when she doesn’t have the answer to something, or if the answer to something isn’t straight to the point. She likes being direct and to the point. She also doesn’t like being questioned when she doesn’t have the answer to something yet. Since she is also stubborn, she doesn’t enjoy getting into arguments unless she is able to win at them.
The other types of dislikes Sa’andras would have are of people she cannot understand or cannot read. She has a lot of patience but when it comes to people who test her patience or often belittle her, it bothers her quite a bit.
Roleplay Example:
“It’s the daughter of the freethinker…”
“Oh look, if it isn’t the spawn of the free thinker.”
“..It’s the hunter’s daughter.”
Many voices whispered around Sa’andras, eying her as she passed by the bustling marketplace. She hung her head low under her cloak, trying to keep her eyes away from the others, trying not to draw attention. She was tired of being known as a free thinker, only because her father bore the title before her. She was always taught never to stare, never to seem to seem like you can speak out or know more than the others around you lest they punish you.
It had been the tenth moon her father had been missing from the hunting party. She had not heard or seen from him since. Not a return party, not a courier, and not even a small note in their meeting place in the woods. She had been waiting, hoping, that her father would return... But there was no trace of him.
She clenched her fists and went to the sage of their village, an old man greying in age. He sported a long beard draped down on the sandstone before him, out from the carpet in the middle of the marketplace he was sitting on. He was dressed in an oversized cloak that was covering over his body and face, only his long nose and beard seemed to be showing. Nothing to indicate that he was asleep or watching the people around him attentively. Saandras stood before him, among the pots and little money jars filled with the town’s currency in front of him. She then sat down before him, kneeling.
“Have you word of my father, sage?” She asked looking at eye level with the aged man. The sage could only breathe slowly as if in deep sleep or meditation. Though the marketplace was loud and full of energy, Sa’andras, being near the mystic man could hear his even breaths despite there being many people walking past them. He had a certain energy about him, which almost felt like he could stop time at will.
The sage seemed to smirk under his long grey beard. A small gruff sound like a grunt was emitted from his still lips. “Yes…” He said in a breath as if he could not move his lips. “Free thinking child. Yes..”
Sa’adras leaned close to the man, feeling her heart racing in her chest wildly. “Yes…?”
“Yes,” The sage said finally, seeming to awaken as he straightened up his posture in a rather slow manner. ”Your father… He’s out there, child. He very well is. The hunter. But he is not well, and you will not be as well within a moon.”
“What?”
“I’m afraid your father has had a conflict with the elder. he is not to return alive and within a moon you must flee here, child. This village is not for you.”
Sa’andras only gritted her teeth from the news, shaking with anger. She could not go against the Sage. He was the only mystic of their village who was the only one who could answer all. She could have gone to him from the start but she could not. Only because she was afraid and anxious of what he could tell her. She could feel hot tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she was staring at the sage in disbelief. From behind her, two voices rose up in a shout.
“Free thinker!” They called, as Sa’andra stood up, turning quickly at the voices. Two guards, tall in leather were coming towards her. “Free thinker, come with us.”
“No!” Sa’andras cried and ran, running from the old sage and the marketplace. She pushed past the many people who were gossiping and looking at the scene. She made her way past the village huts and small districts and finally away from the rest of the people in the area. The guards who had called her were in pursuit and was keeping an even pace as she darted past the gates and back into the safe haven of the trees around the village.
That was probably the last moon Sa’andras saw of her village.
And Ocelot.
Both Accepted
IGN: Kralion
Age: 18
How did you find this server?: Recommended by a friend
IC:
Name: Durim "Red-Hammer" Snarrisnev
Race: Dwarf
Age: About 200 years old (Based on Lord Of the Rings dwarf lifespan)
Personality: Calm and relaxed. He is very friendly, talkative and tries to be understanding of others. If he must use violence he remains quiet and does not show the least amount of enthusiasm towards fighting. He is very enthusiastic when asked to craft something with his forge.
Appearance: Very old. His hair is white, with a braided beard that goes down to his chest. He wears studded leather armour, made by himself, and always has an apron and a set of tools around his waist. A black eye patch covers his left eye.
Ambitions: To create the most beautiful weapons, armour and such till the day of his death finally comes. And try to redeem himself for what he has done.
Likes: Tea, the hot coals of a furnace, works of metal smithing, nature, growing crops, making friends, rain.
Dislikes: Battle, unneeded violence, bandits, destroyed equipment.
Roleplay Example:
"Durim?"
Durim opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he was momentarily blinded by the sun. He slowly got up from his wooden chair and looked to his left, where a small boy he knew very well was waiting for him to speak. It seemed like yesterday when his family had just come to the valley. He seemed to suddenly notice he had awoken the napping dwarf, his face turning into one of regret.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you whe-"
"Don't beat yourself over it Aaron. What do you need?" He asked with an easy smile.
The boy looked down, looking unsure of what he was about to say. Finally he mustered enough courage to speak.
"I was just wondering...You make all those swords and shiny metal armours...Did you ever fight? Like...In a war?" He asked, still looking like he regretted waking the dwarf up.
Durim's smile faded. As much as he wanted to forget, as much as he wanted to let it in the past...He couldn't. And now the boy had triggered those memories. It wasn't the child's fault. He couldn't know. The dwarf let out a heavy sight and took a minute before he spoke again.
"No...Never in a war...But once I went hunting for someone who took something very special from me...It took years...And when I finally found him...He wasn't the same person who had hurt me...And yet I..." Durim stopped, looking like he was reflecting on what to say before deciding it wasn't for the best. He wasn't read to know the truth. Not yet.
"I'll tell you when you are older, alright?" He just said, trying to smile at the boy who had been attentively listening to him all along. He quickly nodded and, after saying goodbye, scampered back to his house. Durim raised from his chair and returned to his workshop to prepare himself some tea...Sometimes, he wished he had something stronger to make those memories go away, but he knew that they would chase him. Straight to the grave.
OOC: jmck
IGN: jmckeown2015
Age: 16
How did you find this server?: Unit117 directed me here.
IC:
Name: Nabil
Race: Human
Age: 28
Personality: Nabil is a disgruntled man whose conflicting aspirations are caught between his conscience and his desire for vengeance. He is known to be isolated and highly paranoid. In an effort to evade all contact with other humans, he is practically nocturnal. The only residents who have seen him on a regular basis are the bartender of the local tavern where he makes a visit late each night as well as the blacksmith who sharpens his sword and tunes up his armor on a weekly basis. However, Nabil is always accompanied by his loyal husky and sole companion, Alya. He has not the slightest care for any other person nor does he have any interest in how others perceive him. Most people see him as some mean, mentally unstable hermit, yet what they don’t know is that he was once a prince of an exceptionally affluent aristocratic family. All of his once wealthy and powerful family now ceases to exist and the event that brought about their bloody ending and left him as the lone survivor has produced a man that has lost the ability to love humans.
Appearance: Nabil is a particularly tall man whose height is 6’4”. However, his most defining physical feature is his muscular build. The sheer strength that his body possesses has frightened the few people that have laid eyes upon him. A rough, dark brown beard covers every inch of skin on the lower half of his rugged face. His head is topped with relatively lengthy dark brown hair that flows freely over his upper back. Despite his unkempt appearance he is very devoted to maintaining good hygiene. Nabil’s dark, lifeless eyes appear as black pits that can bore holes into the souls of those who make eye contact with him. His skin is consistently tan because of his lineal relation to a desert people. A set of cumbersome, iron armor is his choice of everyday apparel and he is consistently equipped with his precious iron broad sword that has much more sentimental value than actual worth.
Ambitions: Nabil has lost all that he once loved, with the exception of his beloved canine, Alya. He is torn between using the values bestowed upon him by his parents and his passionate drive to exterminate all of those associated with his family’s deaths. He makes a handsome profit as a mercenary, yet will only murder those who he believes are worthless. This includes thieves, bandits, and thugs. Nabil is a skilled warrior and emotionlessly slaughters his targets. Despite his hopeless outlook, deep within his heart resides a desire to start anew and put his past behind him. However, that weak desire is suffocated by intense feelings of animosity and sadness. Each moment is a struggle to suppress his emotions to work up the will to live another day.
Likes: Nabil is fond of very little in the world. He continues to live for one reason and one reason only- his adored dog, Alya. One night, years after he had escaped the carnage of his family and wandered into the wilderness as a starving nomad, he collapsed onto the dirt in exhaustion. He was preparing to plunge his sword into his chest and end his torture when he heard the quiet whimpering of a newborn puppy. He immediately forgot his self-pity and began to walk in the direction from which the noise originated. About twenty yards away a puppy, no larger than Nabil’s palm, trembled violently as it burrowed into a small enclave in a hillside. Nabil cautiously removed the creature from its shelter and the puppy that came to be known as Alya huddled against his chest as the whimpering disappeared. It was then that Nabil’s feelings of emptiness and despair were replaced by one of love for the animal that saved his life.
Dislikes: Nabil is generally indifferent about most things and people. Yet, his miserable nature is derived from a combination of his vitriol for those who butchered his family and a strong hatred of himself for being too weak to save his family and for being too weak to avenge his family’s deaths. His mind is frequently occupied with thoughts of how he would singlehandedly annihilate each and every member of the group that slaughtered his family and how he would gruesomely torture the enemy leader. However, he is well aware that his ambitions could never become true for his opponents far outweigh him in resources and ability. Furthermore, Nabil has not the slightest notion of where they might be located and no one in his current hometown could assist him with this predicament. Lastly, he blames himself and himself only for not being to save his family and so his vendetta against himself is nearly greater than his hatred for his adversaries.
Roleplay Example: The lowly bandits huddled around a flickering campfire in the frigid air of the night. One casually stood guard beside the dying fire and occasionally tossed a log upon it in a weak effort to preserve its warmth. The guard’s hands had long grown numb and he could no longer feel the handle of the cutlass that he carried at his side. The night was eerily quiet, with the only audible sound coming from the crackling of the flames. One of the bandits asked for another log and the guard was fulfilling the request when the bandit witnessed a sole arrow make a direct hit with the guard’s left eyeball. The bandit had no time to react, for a second arrow made a clean cut into his head a second later. The remaining twenty bandits mobilized quickly, utilizing prior combat experience. They dove for cover behind tents, supply crates, and sitting logs and unsheathed their weapons awaiting the arrival of their concealed attacker. The bandits tried desperately to peer into the thick darkness, yet nothing was visible outside a small circle of light provided by the campfire. They were essentially sitting ducks in the only illuminated area while the unknown attacker drifted unseen in the shadows. One bandit armed with a single bladed axe called out to his companions, “Just stay in cover. He’ll then have to come within our field of view and that’s when we’ll take him…” But before he could utter his last words, an arrow struck him in the back of the head.
At that moment, another bandit cried, “I’m done waiting for him to kill us all! Let’s bring the fight to him!” Four of the bandits accepted the one’s strategy and followed him into the night in the direction from which the last arrow emerged. The other bandits crouched in their hiding positions in complete silence. A few seconds later, the unmistakable sound of gurgling blood could be heard along with the clattering of weapons. The fight lasted only ten more minutes and officially concluded with the decapitation of the bandit leader. Nibal, the mercenary, threw the blood drenched head in a deerskin bag. Now having proof of the leader’s death, he could deliver the head and obtain his reward for the contract- a sizeable 5,000 pieces of gold worth of gems. After returning to his cabin, Nibal patted his husky, Alya, on the head as the dog barked joyfully at his arrival. He poured half a glass of hard liquor and sat at his desk where a single candle delivered an orange glow over a collection of heavily marked maps and papers. He was determined to avenge his family and he would do so at any cost. As Nibal began to study his work, he assured himself that this time failure would not be an option.
OOC:
IGN:
Cloudchaser_
Age: 20
How did you find this server?
Referred by friend's (revolvingocelot and kralion) on the back of a Tuk-Tuk
IC:
Name:
Biggs'melona(Biggs' for short)
Race:
Human, Female
Age:
24
Personality: At a youthful age of twenty four, Biggs' is a spunky individual, who often seems quirky and energetic. She is a caring and gentile youth, always finding time for others in need; whether to help them in their duties or to lend an ear to those who seek comfort. Her keen ear has helped to ensure her safety in more grim moments of her past, but those stories are for another time. Despite her seemingly feminine and tentative nature, she is an assertive and independent individual, who has no qualms about laying down the rules or having her nose at the grindstone.Just like her ancestors before her, she is dab hand at mining. Working hard for her families small corporation GR7 - she specialises in exploring the deep-caves that would send most men running in fear. She also currently studies as an apprentice in the art of Saddling, hoping to increase her leather-working skills, that would prove useful in taking care of her mining fatigues. Most would think that a girl would despise being in such a horrid dank place, but the darkness of the caves of Haraveth are welcoming and familiar for the young upstart, who often spends her hours awake during the cold and still evenings, tending to her duties.
Appearance:
Standing at a relatively small height of 5'5" Biggs' is often described as a cute young individual, a small button nose adorns her face followed by a light sprinkling of freckles. Her brown silken hair follows a sharp curve that rise from a sharp point at her jaw leading up to her eyes that are a deep shade of green (not too dissimilar to the emeralds that she seeks with fervour. ) Despite her small frame she has some healthy curves; an attribute that she can often use to her 'advantage' when she needs something from certain men that aren't so pure of heart.Her attire, consists of various worn raw hide leather garments, that have seen a lot of use in times spent underground . The once strong brown jacket that would beam brilliantly in the moonlight, has now faded to a dull listless grey, stained over the years by the stone dust and soot in the mines . Her favourite piece of equipment however is her gas light mining helmet (that helps her to see even in the darkest and most foul caves) handed down to by her grandfather Biggs'o'Alfred - co-founder of the GR7 mining contortion and one of the best miners to grace the land.
Ambitions:
Despite her strong will and intent, she often finds herself unable to dream of her goals in life. Drifting through life one day at a time, she chooses to spend each day in the mine, alone and in solemnity. Digging and drilling, hoping that one day she might unearth a better future for herself.
Likes:
When she isn't mining throughout the day, Biggs' likes to spend her time walking in the moonlight, alone where she can think to herself. She is modest in her want's, to come home to her small shack, where she can close the curtains to block the rising sun has become a comforting regime for the youngster. The dark is comforting and for some time now she hasn't even seen the sun. Despite this she still finds time to visit the local tavern, where she enjoys drowning her sorrows at the bottom of a mead filled tankard, with the other working men whom are grateful of her company.
Dislikes:
Only one thing makes her gut writhe more than anything...to be called a coward. Such an act tends to evoke waves of seething blood and rage from the young female. It is if someone has flicked a small switch from "think" to "ignore safety, prove them wrong". Nobody calls her a chicken and she'll damn well prove anyone wrong who has the audacity to say such a foolish thing to her. It's safe to say more than a few men have had some unsavoury bites of their hat's so to speak.
Roleplay Example:
Just giving a small example, since a lot of role-play is actually text driven chat and not a small story.
A small breeze flowed through the cold morning air as Biggs' set out her tools in preparation for her daily descent into the caves.
"Dammit..." she muttered to herself, "...out of fuel from the lamp again."
She looked around carefully, hastily working her way through the mess of containers at the base of her workbench.
"Aha, here you are!" she exclaimed in delight.
She leant into the mess of tools and clustered objects that littered the container, and proceeded to take out some redstone torches.
"Well you aren't the best source of light, but until I we get some gas from my headlamp you'll have to make do!"
Slowly, she put them in her knapsack and began collecting up the rest of her tools that were strewn across the workbench before her. As she walked towards the cave entrance she caught a glimpse of the local barkeep, bringing in some new meads for the evenings libations.
"Some new brew's I see eh?" she questioned, as she adjusted the harness around her hips.
The old dwarf that was tending to the kegs, slowly rose his rosy cheeks shining bright in the morning light. A big smile across his face, he rubbed at the tips of his wirey moustache.
"Eye lass! Can we expect to have your company tonight, these fine meads won't be drinking themselfs you know."
"There's two things you can count on Mr.McGhee." She paused to make a final adjustment top her backpack.
"That I will mine into the night, and that I'll return for a fine drink at your tavern after a days work." giving a wry smile, she nodded to the dusty old dwarf and continued on her way.
Sorry for any typos i missed.
IGN: endragh
Age: 22
How did you find this server?: my friend Duracelplus wanted me to join so here i am to apply
IC:
Name: Daka
Race: Orc
Age: 30
Personality:
Daka is has two views of people. Either you’re stronger then her and someone she should look up to or you’re weaker then her.
When dealing with those weaker then her she barely give them the time of day unless she has become close to them. She will only speak in Orc to them thinking they could at least learn the strongest language. Since she knows the common tongue she does understand people and if she is in a situation where she must answer the person she will usually insult them, still speaking only in Orc.
When dealing with people she looks up to she tends to be much calmer and more accommodating, she’ll even use common if they prefer it. She tends to still keep to herself but if they ask a question she’ll still answer.
While she tries to keep to herself if someone does need her she’ll help out, as there isn’t usually much she can do normally. Because of her height and weight, which disgust her, she feels she is much weaker then most Orcs so she tries to help out her clan by thinking up traps to defend their home, using her brain more then the muscle she believes she doesn’t have.
She doesn’t like anyone who looks down on defense, since she believes that is the only thing she can do, and thinks that all you need is offence. If someone shows those kind of views she will ignore them completely unless they outright attack her or someone she looks up to.
Appearance: Daka is only 6'8" and weighing 220lbs she was born along the coast so she is blue skinned, she has mud brown hair and eyes, she keeps her hair really short so it won’t cause any problems for her.
She wears leather-covering most of her body; she covers everything but her head, because she sometimes deals with fire. It is a very simple design as any extra material might get caught in something.
She also has scars all over her hands from having TNT go off by accident near her, which is why she doesn’t deal with it now. She also lost her right pinky because of the small explosion. She carries a wood sword mostly using it to help herself get away since she believes she wouldn’t win if she fought someone face to face.
Ambitions: Daka has two ambitions at this point in her life, one long-term one short-term. Since she left her original clan, because they only wanted to attack and never defend, her short-term ambition is to find a new clan that actually agrees with her that defense is something they need.
Her long-term ambition is to devise the best traps to keep her clan safe. Make it so that no one can ever get in if they don’t want them to. She wants to be so good that her traps create legends that if someone tries to attack her clan no one will survive.
Likes: Daka has two things about her traps she like; the first is creating new ones she hadn’t thought of before and the second is when they work on someone. Since it is the only time she will beat someone she takes great joy whenever they defeat someone.
Outside of her traps she has a few other joys, since she was born near the coast she really enjoys swimming, it relaxes her and she could spend a whole day doing it if she got the chance. She prefers to swim in lakes and river more then the ocean as she doesn’t really relaxed when fighting the waves.
She also really enjoys digging. Sometimes she’ll find something new to use in a trap other times she’ll find nothing at all. Being down in tunnels by herself give her time to think and it is something to do with her hands when she doesn’t have anything else to od.
Dislikes: since Daka already doesn’t like how short and weak she is she doesn’t like anyone who looks down on her for it, while she can beat herself up about it as much as she wants she won’t let anyone else do it.
She also doesn’t like it when people believe there is no need for defense ever. Being all about frontal attacks is okay in her book but if you insult defending your home so you have someplace to go back to that is when she starts to hate you.
Outside of defending her self and her choice in what she does with her time. She also doesn’t like the sun to much. Unlike most of the coastal Orc’s she would be totally fine not seeing the light of day ever.
Roleplay Example:
Daka closed her bag with a nod. She had enough food and supplies for a few days travel. She was leaving her current clan and heading out to find one that wouldn’t look down on her. Her current clan cared nothing for protecting themselves, believing that as long as they kept attacking those around them they wouldn’t be attacked themselves.
She shook her head, that was not something she believed in. she had tried to get them to understand that she could make sure no one came for them, protect their home while they were out fighting, no one had listened to her.
She put her bag on and headed for the door flinching slightly as she entered the light. The town was interesting made mostly of sand stone. She looked around thinking of all the places she could have put traps to protect this place if only they let her. She knew she was a little obsessed with them, but it was her only means to attack. She wasn’t as strong or as intimidating as the other Orcs. She could only think of traps to protect herself from those that attacked her.
That was why she was leaving. Those around her looked her down on because of her short height and low weight. She hoped that moving to another clan might make things even a little bit better.
She took one last look around before leaving her clan. Heading northwards, she had heard there was at least one Orc clan up there. Maybe she could convince them to let her protect their home with her traps.
((Tuk-Tuk also I’m sorry for creating lore for the coastal orc’s.))
We have all the information on races here. http://hareveth.enjin.com/home
Denied.
Endragh - Thanks for the server, you didn't really create lore so I'll let it pass.
GameGeek - Nice app.
Accepted.
OOC:
IGN: Poisoned Tiger
Age: 15 years and 6 months
How did you find this server?: I was searching through the Minecraft forums.
IC: Tuk-Tuk
Name: Contessa Maine
Race: Human
Age: 18
Personality: Contessa Maine, or Tessa, is an outspoken leader. She prefers to lead the group, rather than be a follower. She takes things very seriously, and doesn't joke very much. Contessa is a very passionate woman about the things she loves. She is kind, but when she has to she will put her foot down. She highly dislikes Skraven (possible spelling error) and tends to look down on anyone who is not human. She is greedy: not only for money, but for power.
Appearance: Contessa Maine is a brown haired, wide-eyed girl. She looks innocent, almost child-like. She wears a blue sweater, lace-up boots, and two bows in her hair; a small bow in front and a larger bow in the back. . She is approximately 5'6". She is very lean, but everything other than skin and bones is muscle. She is strong, but not strong enough to fight off a full grown man. Despite working hard hours in the sun, Tessa does not tan very well.
Ambitions: Tessa wants to be a political leader. She wants to rule, and she won't stop until she can be. Unfortunately, until her time comes, she's stuck being a minor politician and -ugh- a lumberjack.
Likes: Tessa loves politics. More than anything. She also enjoys collecting books and reading.
Dislikes: Tessa hates being poor. She's been poor before, and it was not her cup of tea. She also cannot stand criminals, and she hates snow.
Roleplay Example:
To Tessa's disgust, the day was not nearly over. The sun was high in the sky, and she still had quite a few trees to chop before she could get back to town to mingle, socialize, and earn political favor. Her throat felt scratchy from lack of water, something they often went without during the many hours they worked. She turned towards an older man who was felling the tree next to hers.
"Hey, Arnold, do you have any water? I'm parched." She asked, gesturing to the water bottle at his feet. The man stopped what he was doing and handed her the bottle.
"'Ere, have the rest. I owe ya, afta' ya took mah shift the otha' day."
Tessa gulped down a few ounces, then handed the bottle back, with the rest still in it. "Don't need all of it, but thank you. How's your wife anyway? You said she gave birth to twins?"
Arnold chuckled. "Yep, and they'ah givin' 'er a 'ard time. 'Course, mos' newborns do, bu' there's double tha screamin'."
Tessa internally rolls her eyes, she hated the way Arnold speaks. "I'm sure. If you need any help with them, I'm always willing to lend a hand."
Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Tessah. I owe ya one."
Tessa turns back to her tree and begins to chop again. She mutters under her breath, "Yes, yes you do..."
OOC:
IGN: Kralion
Age: 18
How did you find this server?: Recommended by a friend
IC:
Name: Tarni "Bear-Hug" Vanyrasdottir
Race: Dwarf
Age: 100 years old. (Which would equal 25 human years approximately)
Personality: Overly-enthusiastic, happy and very interested about animals, either taming or hunting them. Tarni likes to live life to fullest, which to her is to wrestle bears and attempt to play kitty with mountains lions. Of course, this doesn't usually end well to her, and she has the scars to prove it, but she doesn't let it get in the way. To remove her lucky-go-happy attitude, you have to do something quite horrible, and when that happens you don't want to be near the angry dwarf lady.
Appearance: Tarni wears a fox cloak and keeps a bear necklace around her neck, a gift from her father on their first hunt. She wears a heavy blue woollen sweater under it and always keeps a belt loaded with anything she might need under it. (Pic below)
Ambitions: Tarni's greatest dream is to one day hunt a dragon. Of course, that is easier said than done, but that doesn't stop her from gathering information about the great beasts, hoping it will all pay off one day. And who knows, it may...
Likes: Taming and hunting animals, weakness for puppies, making friends, bear hugs, "friendly" wrestling, mead.
Dislikes: Unnecessary use of brutal force, killing defenceless animals (As in, cubs or such), when the mead is gone.
Roleplay Example:
*CRASH*
Tarni grunted as she rose on unsteady legs, the bear's strike having knocked the wind out of her. It might have something to do that it also launched her into the air till she smacked into a tree. Somehow, she was smiling.
"Come on, papa bear! That all you got!?" She taunted as she readied her fists, a massive brown bear stomping through the foliage from where she had been launched. It rose on its hind legs and roared at the dwarf.
Perfect.
Tarni didn't waste her opportunity. She rushed foward while the bear was still on its hind legs and slammed into him with her shoulder. The bear suddenly lost its balance and roared again as it feel down hard, flailing its limbs as it tried to regain its balance.
"Come on, get up you brown-ass beast! I can kick your ugly butt a few more times!" She said, her smile turning into a grin. As if he understood what the dwarf said, the bear turned and regained his footing, moving forward and swiping at the dwarf.
Tarni jumped back, flinching when one of the claws got through her armour and left a small gash on the side of her arm, and readied her next strike, punching the bear straight into the nose. A sickening crunch sounded and the bear whimpered loudly, holding its nose with its front legs.
"Had enough yet!?" Said Tarni as she raised her fists again. The bear turned back and fled back into the forest. Tarni let out a victorious cheer. The blood pumping through her veins, her heart throbbing in her chest...This was what begin alive was for!
IGN: redhawk39
Age: 22
How did you find this server?: I was given a link in a Skype chat by Revolvingocelot.
IC:
Name: Clyde
Race: Human
Age: 28
Personality: Clyde has a straightforward personality, if he wants something he makes it clear. He sees everything as a battlefield making him not ever sit still for very long, making people just think he is twitchy.
Appearance: He stands roughly 6'2 with with brown hair kept swept back. Along his jaw is chinstrap beard kept loosely trimmed to, in his words, give him a more menacing appearance. His hazel eyes are underlined with bags from sleepless nights of travel. A white shirt covered with a brown and black vest, kept open, and green slacks are his cloths of choice, complemented by a black hat.
Ambitions:His only ambition is to live life the way he wants, while he will follow someone, if their ideals clash, such on who decides who dies, he himself believing in fate rather then a a king ordering someone to die, he would rather part ways then follow something he doesn't believe in, unless a debt is owed, those whom disrupt his drinks will pay.
Likes: Alcohol, food, females, money, animals, simple company, coordinating defenses, tactics, weapons, his hat
Dislikes: Stuck up folk, upper class, kings, military enforced order
Roleplay Example: "Two days," Clyde muttered under his voice to the three Skaven in tow, " by the third day they will stop looking for you, then you can get out of town simple, to them you all look alike, so they wont recognize you once your out of their minds." "Why man-thing help us-us," replied the lead skaven dagger in hand. Clyde stood there for a moment looking at the dagger, give them an answer they disliked and they might stab him again, the first wound was still throbbing and felt warm as his hand tried to keep the blood in. "Orc threw the first punch, his companion tried to bring his axe down on your two friends there," as he pointed he watched as the lead skaven lowered his knife but still held onto it, releasing a small sigh of relieve, he could take them, maybe, but this wound would not help if they turned on him,"I don't care why you where there or what you plan to do armed to the teeth like that, but you killed those idiots who where ruining my drinks so I returned the favor." After a moment the small knife went back into its sheath, and a small voice replied as they turned to the tunnels behind them, "We owe pink-man, smell green-thug outside he look-search for you-you, now we good-good." Clyde sat there for a moment considering whether to turn his back to where they disappeared to then heard the orc shuffling outside, he knew who he would rather have to deal with. Lifting himself with a sharp grunt, he shambled to the door, "Time to put on a show," he muttered as he shifted his sword to his back, if things went south he wanted to be ready. He stumbled out the door landing in a bewildered orc's hands. "Help the rats, stabbed me." "Where!" shouted the orc, obviously drunk by the smell of his breath, and to drunk to care that a man was bleeding out in his arms, " I will skin those rats alive for killing my mates, make them into rugs!" "The roofs," Clyde muttered, acting like the blood lose was getting to him more then it was," they..." His sentence was cut short as the orc threw him to the ground shouting aloud about the roofs as he ran. Getting up and brushing himself off, he winced as he realized just how hard he was thrown, It would take more then a few drinks to dull the pain on this one...
IGN: InvdrZim13 (skype's the same name if you need/want it)
Age: 19
How did you find this server?: Recommended to me by a friend, who informed me of this server as we were riding tuk-tuks in the desert.
IC:
Name: Jack Morris
Race: Human
Age: 23
Personality: Laid back, cynical, a "smart-ass", in the company of strangers he is reserved, in the company of friends he's more open and talkative.
Appearance: He's around 6'0" with brown eyes and black hair. He wears a brown, hooded cloak over light gray pants and a shirt and lacks facial hair. He looks a few years younger than he really is.
Ambitions: His ultimate goal is to make a meaningful impact on someone or some place. His... less lofty goals include living life undisturbed and being able to pursue whatever interests him. He wishes to find a fortune, and as such he also dabbles in making things and exploring dungeons and tombs looking for treasure as well.
Likes: Being alone or in the company of those he is familiar with, alcohol, planning things out as opposed to spontaneous action
Dislikes: Cowards, cheats, liars, people lacking in common sense
Roleplay Example:
Jack sits alone at a table at "The Intoxicated Axeman", a relatively popular tavern in this town, he sips his drink as he scans the room, waiting for his friend to show up. After some time the doors to the tavern open, and in walks Robert, the friend he was waiting for. Robert looks around before locating Jack and taking a seat at his table. "Jack, I'm surprised you asked me to meet you in such a place, this doesn't seem like somewhere you'd be caught at." Robert jokes. "It wasn't my first choice but all the alleyways were booked by the local populace." Jack says dryly. "Yeah yeah, so, why'd you ask me to come here anyway?" Robert inquires. "I found this cave a few miles outside this town, looked like there could be some good stuff inside." Jack replies. "And you didn't want to go alone? Here I thought you were braver than that." Robert chides. "No, genius. I've got a much higher chance of making it out of that cave alive with some company than I do going in alone." Jack says. "Oh... Yeah, that does make sense." Robert says. "Great. Get your gear and meet me at the western gate in the morning." Jack instructs before finishing his drink off, standing up and leaving the bar, heading to his room at the inn to plan out the events of the next day.
IGN: Crusaderz.
Age: 13.
How did you find this server?: It was suggested to me by your administrator, P_Oxide, that I check out this server.
IC: In Character -
Name: Elijah Brightly.
Race: Human.
Age: 23.
Personality: At first glance, Elijah seems apathetic, shady, and deceitful. Once he adjusts to being around a certain person, he will show more emotion. He will show some care, acting polite at times, though he can and will be rude and sarcastic. He does not consider many people to be close to him, maybe a few in total, that's it. If you are one of those few, he will give of an aura that an older brother would; he's protective, compassionate, and caring.
Appearance: Elijah is slightly built. Standing tall at 6'3", he is thin. He has deep cobalt blue eyes, and has a tannish complexion. Something odd about him, though, is most likely the tinge of dark red to his short and curly hair that is almost always tousled. He wears a white cloth on his face, though will take it off often around those he feels comfortable with. He wears white clothing that is lined with a color that resembles sand. He has a white shirt and wears a red scarf with it and insists on wearing a vest over it. His vest is the same color of the lining of his shirt, but it also is purple. His pants are whitish and have purple to them as well. He wears a sandy colored pair of gloves and to top it all off, a pair of brown boots.
Ambitions: Elijah wishes to become better trained with his bow, and also wishes to improve with his forging and crafting.
Likes: Elijah enjoys training with his bow, fishing, and hunting. He loves traveling and exploring, even if he does get horribly lost. He also likes climbing things like trees and such, and doesn't mind crafting his own things every once in a while. He likes having people around him, preferably some he's fond of.
Dislikes: Elijah dislikes most people, though there are a select few he is fond of. He dislikes the thought of staying in one place for a while, which results in him craving the thought of changing things up, such as moving to a different area. He hates silence and will often whistle to replace the ringing in his ears that silence leaves him with.
Roleplay Examples:
Elijah sat in the chair, staring at a scar on his arm when suddenly he blinked. He had received it a while back, but had forgotten how.. He thought back to that one day.
Snoring lightly, Elijah would be slumped over on a bench in his room. With the sun flickering at his eyes through the crack in the curtains, it would eventually be irritating enough to wake him up. He grumbled and rose to his feet, sleepily stumbling over and pulling the curtains open, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change of light in the room. Once adjusted, he would swiftly dress himself, fixing the scarf inside the vest and pulling a cloth on to cover half of his face. Throwing the door to his room open, he'd step out gleefully, stopping and reaching to tie his boots tightly. He looked around, mumbling a greeting to the woman that he passed by as he grabbed his bow from the nearby table. "I'm going hunting, I'll hopefully be back soon," he had a mischievous grin underneath the cloth, "I'll bring you back a frog, I know how much you adore them," he sang, placing emphasis on the word adore. Before she could respond, he ran out the door, grabbing his quiver on the way out and setting the leather strap on his shoulder as he headed his usual route to the forest.
Stepping into the overgrowth of the large trees up above, he smirked. Wandering further into the forest, he would proceed with his usual activities for the day. He would have a disappointed look to his gaze as he soon realized how silent the forest was. There were no innocent animals lurking. Setting his bow aside, he'd lean up against a tree, watching the forest around him. Then it hit him. Thinking back to the look he was given as he mentioned bringing back a frog, he couldn't stop himself from chuckling. Pulling his mask down, he let it sit around his neck. Not many people were out here anyways, nor would they care about what he looked like. He lifted his bow from the side of the tree, holding it to his side. Treading past a murky pond, he suddenly paused, crouching down to look at the pond. He grinned. Gingerly cupping one of the small creatures in his hands, he stood up and briskly walked back to where he was staying.
"I set it free though," he said, cutting through his thoughts and setting his mug down as he faded back into his thoughts.
"Kziah, I have a surprise," he said, showing off a wolfish grin as he approached the horrified looking woman.
"And that's how I got this scar," he said, cutting back into reality. "Right?" he asked, looking at the woman across from him.
"Mhm.." the woman across from him mumbled in response, looking slightly upset with him for doing such a thing.
"It was a long time ago!" he said in his own defense.
((italic is him thinking back to the day, bold is actual things going on.. psst, Tuk-Tuk))
You may want to read the rules, As you have missed something of vital importance.
For now, Denied.
IGN: kayllan19
Age: 15
How did you find this server?: Dalton suggested I apply~ c:
IC:
Name:
Kziah Desjardins
Race:
Human
Age:
26
Personality:
She holds an admirable pride in her art of Sword fighting, and an even more admirable talent for it. Her pride is also her downfall; she can become pretentious and arrogant. She has a very serious nature, and doesn’t often make jokes, when she does they are cold and with ill intent. She thinks clear and concisely, cutting to the core of the subject, and picking apart people to get what she needs. She is very fond of, and caring of her good friends, those that have been 'approved' as such. However she may care about her friends, she is still distant, but less so than she would be with others.
Appearance:
TukTuk you piece of f- heuheuheuue >3>
Ambitions:
Kziah plans to expand her “Legal Advisement” firm. She deals with criminals, fugitives and just regular people in some trouble with the law. Though her business is highly unorthodox, and quite illegal, she plans to expand and build on it, so that she may thrive and make a living out of it.
Likes:
Business; She is a woman made for business, and has an eye for making deals and fixing problems.
Money; Kziah is not one to shy away from the prospect of wealth, she dreams of wanting for nothing.
Sword fighting; She admires the clean, and precise art of swordsmanship, and enjoys the practise.
Dislikes:
Ignorance; People are bad enough without being ignorant as well; you’re either a respectable, educated being, or nothing in Kziah’s eyes.
Authority; Not one to be told what to do or how to do it, she despises figures of authority.
Frogs; A distaste for the foul creatures that extends into her childhood, best not to ask about it.
Role-play Example:Gripping the banister tightly, Kziah smiled at her childhood friend, Elijah, who was waving as he closed the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, her entire body relaxed, she had not realised how tense she had been. She sighed deeply, calming her nerves, her next client was not a patient man, and she had already be forced to postpone their meeting due to Elijah’s need to talk to her for an hour about what they would be eating for the next week. She enjoyed his company, otherwise she would not have put up with him for seventeen years, and however, like many people he irritated her at the best of times.Suddenly remembering how little time she had to meet with her client, she forced herself to move from the stair case, gathering a cloak, her satchel, and at the last second before she left through the front door, her sword. Kziah was not one to take chances, especially ones that could cost her life.
End.
Kayllan19,
Kralion
InvdrZim13
kayllan19
Crusaderz
PoisonedTiger
All Accepted
IGN: lodewijkbob (same for Skype)
Age: 16
How did you find this server?: I was referred by friends (revolvingocelot, Kralion and GameGeek) on our Tuk-Tuk ride.
IC:
Name: Christopher Solari
Race: Human, Male
Age: 24
Personality: Chris has always had great feeling of empathy and compassion. He was always there to lend a hand to his fellow man or offer a listening ear. Back home this was always initially met with confusion, sometimes distrust and occasionally frowned upon but always welcomed in the end. For in the community Christopher grew up in, you were taught to help yourself first and others later, or not at all. Succes was all that mattered, and the means were nearly always justified if it was achieved. Because his family embraced this culture, he became disconnected from them and could never establish a lasting friendship with anyone from his hometown. This caused Christopher to never feel at home in this environment, and so he set out to travel.
As he traveled to the land of Hareveth, he met his fair share of travelers who were always delighted to get assistance from a fellow traveler. When he arrived the strange new land instantly peeked his curiosity, and he set out to explore the land and meet new people. He found that the people he met were more appreciative of his helpful nature, and he traveled from town to town helping whenever he could, leaving wherever he went a happier place than when he found it.
Appearance: Often said to have a kind face by those who crossed his path, his short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slight stubble beard do not do the word injustice. He wears a simple robe because he could never feel comfortable in the elaborate outfits popular in his hometown. Wearing nothing but his robe and sandals it is clear to see Christopher is not a man of prestige, and rather one of practicality and comfort.
Ambitions: Having no clear goal in life, Christopher wanders the land looking for ways to make himself useful. But this way of living is hardly fulfilling. What Christopher truly wishes is to find a definitive place in society and most importantly, a home.
Likes: Christopher enjoys helping people or making himself useful in any other way. He also likes meditating or just having some time to himself to ponder anything on his mind.
Dislikes: Seeing anyone in any kind of bad mood. Be it dissapointment, stress, exhaustion or something else, Christopher will always try to solve their problems, help them do so themselves or if nothing else, temporarily alleviate their worries.
Roleplay Example: Christopher was walking along the edge of an apple orchard when he spotted an old man in the orchard looking tired and slightly desperate. He called out to him:"Good day stranger, you look like you could use a hand!"
"I sure could, I need to clear this entire orchard before sundown"
Christopher hopped the fence and approached the man.
"My name is Christopher, just tell me what we need to do and I'll get to it"
"I appreciate the offer young man, but I have no way to pay you"
"I didn't ask for payment friend, just say the word"
Christopher and the old man, whose name he found out was Marcus , started working the orchard and the hours flew by as they talked and picked apples. When the sun almost set and their work finally done, Christopher sat down against the back of one of the trees and looked into the orchard, admiring the result of their hard day's work. As Marcus walked by with the last basket of apples, he threw a couple towards Christopher.
"Here 'stranger', you've earned these"
"Thanks Marcus"
"It's getting dark, and my home has a warm hearth. How about you join me for dinner?"
"I appreciate the offer Marcus, but I'm gonna have to be on my way now"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, goodbye Marcus, and farewell"
"Thanks for the help, and good luck on your travels!"
You've been
ACCEPTED.
Welcome to Hareveth.
IGN:
Dexevara
Age:
18
How did you find this server?:
RevolvingOcelot, Kralion and Game_Geek referred it to me. Tuk-Tuk
IC:
Name:
Melenas
Race:
Human
Age:
28
Personality:
He’s reserved and serious. He follows his own code which seems to be led by honor and loyalty. He seems cold and unlikable because of his mistrust of strangers but once you get on his good side he can be extremely warm and friendly. He seem to have been wandering for a long time and always as a lot of stories to tell, which may not always be entirely true once he gets a couple pints. He always stay true to what he believes to be right, he considers order and justice to be some of the most important things in a society. He also seem to have a strange affinity to nature like if he had somekind of connection to it.
Appearance:
He has a strong and imposing stature, standing at 6’3 with broad shoulders he wears a plate armor completed by multiple chainmail accessories amplifying his size.Over his plate armor he wears a dark green tabard with the emblem of some old forgotten house. His face combines a strange mix of severity and delicacy, partially covered by a well-trimmed dark brown beard. He usually wear a chainmail hood that covers his mid-length chestnut hair that make his dark brown eyes look like 2 sphere of obsidian. His strong nose peeks over is bearded lip and his smoothly drawn mouth.
Ambitions:
Melenas doesn’t consider himself a man of ambition, he does what he need to survive and what he needs to help those he swore to protect, further than that he doesn’t think dream of anything in particular. He assumes that if things are to get better, they will.
Likes:
Even if he is mainly a soldier he always had something for nature. As far as he can remember he always enjoyed the company of animals and vegetation. He usually carries plants with him for balms and such, he consider his relation with nature as a blessing. He takes only what he needs and make use of everything he takes. Obviously he is a skilled sword man who enjoys a good fight and the glory of the battle. He likes those who can live for their conviction or at least respect them. He is also someone who isn’t afraid to drink and feast when he can.
Dislikes:
He dislikes those who can’t respect order, those without discipline or moral values. He despises cheats and frauds or any dishonorable beings.
Roleplay Example:
Younger Melenas, clothed of light leather armor, is riding a horse as fast he can through the forest. A horn blow can be heard behind him as he tries to go faster. He turns around to look at his pursuers who seem to be getting closer. Holding his messenger satchel closer to him ducks in an vain attempt to go faster. The rain makes it difficult for him to keep balance on the leather saddle. Suddenly as another horn blow can be heard, his horse slips on the slippery rocky trail. He is then thrown off the back off his horse and falls on the hard ground. All his body is aching but he knows he has no other choice but try to keep going. As he tries to get back up, his pursuers are catching up. On the ground, Melenas only hear the rain beating his ears. A tall man in dark plate armor gets off the back of his horse and starts to walk to the crawling boy. Melena seeing him from the corner of his eyes tries to get up but suddenly get forced back down by a painful kick from the man. The boot that kicked him his now crushing is chest against the ground. As he ripped cut the bag loose from Melenas’s grip the man shouted over the loud weather “Where are you going with these, Courier?” Melenas kept quiet, looking at the man angrily. The boot dug deeper in Melenas’s spine, “You don’t need to die today boy, just tell me where the recipients of these letters are, sooner or later we will find out anyway so be glad I give you the chance to save your life.” Melenas lowered his angry eyes full of tears to the ground as the pain grew stronger and sharper in his back. The young boy with shame on his face started muttering something; the man took him by the shoulders and took the boy’s mouth closer to his ear “What did you say?” Melenas sobbing repeated in the man’s ear “They…they are at the…castle” he took a deep breath and went on “Castle Sparrow’s End”. The man satisfied called one of his men to come and take the kid with them. Melenas, defeated looked at the tall man who had just crushed him as he was taken away. The man pulled out his sword and quickly killed Melenas’s wounded horse. The man gave the horse one last sad look and went back on his horse. Melenas, now riding with one of the enemy riders, was out of strength and finally fell unconscious on the horse.