Hey nochyotaco okay so I think what Coastav8or meant was before is that the main sections those being Appearance, Personality and Ambitions are slightly lacking so try extending on those, maybe look at another persons app to get an idea on how it is meant to be set out.
But sorry Just do those and tell me either on skype or on here. Denied
Personality: Aethelflaed, or Aethy to her friends, is a mild-mannered and soft spoken young woman. She shies away from the ridiculous notion of heroic adventures, such things just get you covered in muck, blood, and disaster. She carries her heart on her sleeve though, and enjoys whistling while picking apples.
Appearance: Aethy is fairly short, standing at just 5'4", so she tends to look up when speaking to people. She has mousy brown hair, and flat blue eyes. Her only really defining feature are her freckles, which cover her nose, and she is quite embarrassed of them. She keeps herself well kept and well groomed, and likes to keep to simple, green linen dresses.
Ambitions: Aethy wishes for nothing more than to settle down on a nice little farmstead and take to bookbinding, like her father before her, and his father before him, etc. She comes from a long line of bookbinders! No one binds a book better! Well.. sort of.
Likes: Aethy is very fond of apple, fresh leather, a nice book, and treetops to climb amidst.
Dislikes: Aethy detests thick mud, bickering, being chased, and her unlucky penchant on cutting herself. All things which tend to make her distrusting towards the idea of adventures.
"May I help you?" A voice asks from above.
The boughs of the trees cast shadows amongst the sun-dappled woodland, amidst the shadows is the small outline of a young woman. She sits just above, balancing on the thick branch of an oaken tree. A grouping of apples are piled in the folds of her dress, and she holds them with care.
"Lots of people tend to get lost in here," She carries on, trying to give a polite smile, though it hinders with being withdrawn, nervous at the sight of you.
"The road isn't too far, just that way." She tells you, pointing her hand northward, through the dense and gnarled trunks.
"I, uhm, can offer you an apple if you'd like. For the road." Letting go of her perch, she lands softly near by, her walk unhindered from the fall, as if from practice. She holds out an apple, smooth and a golden yellow colour with stains of red.
"They're uh, they're my favourite." She says quietly, and her smile seems a bit more honest, you don't alarm her as much now it would seem. "My name is Aethelflaed, and yourself?"
I've got two applications, one for me, and one for a friend. Tuk-tuk?
How did you find this server?: Minecraft forums
Name: George Vignola
Personality: Adventurous, likes killing things, likes treasure, somewhat childish, not overly nice or mean.
Appearance: 5 foot 9, long (for a boy) dark brown hair, big, bright hazel-green eyes, physically fit, but not overly muscular, usually wears expensive clothing. Weighs around 150 pounds.
Ambitions: Become a famous/infamous pirate, and also get lots of treasure. Party with the rich and famous.
Likes: Water, boats, fishing, money, treasure, jewelry, swords, the color red, booze, beaches, attractive women.
Dislikes: Excessive heat, dryness, deserts, being in jail.
Roleplay Example: George was on his ship, when he spotted a merchant vessel, about a mile away. He commanded his navigator to steer the boat towards it. As he neared the ship, he yelled "Fire!!!". The whole ship shook as there were four cannon shots. All of them hit their target. Planks dropped down onto the merchant ship, and George, along with others, ran aboard. They began taking as much as they could, materials, along with people, who they could sell as slaves. They had to be fast, before the ship sank. George was hobbling back to his ship with a keg of beer, when he saw his brother, tied up trying to get away somehow in the confusion. George dropped the keg immediately and went to untie his brother. Once back on board his own ship, he talked with John, his brother.
"I'm glad I found you, I was starting to worry. You didn't contact me like we had agreed"
"It wasn't my fault, back at our last raid on that port, the guards captured me and sold me as a slave to work as a deckhand on that ship"
How did you find this server?: Minecraft forums/my friend
Name: John Vignola
Personality: Gung-ho and straight forward. Boasts a lot, about how great he is. Doesn't always tell the truth. Thinks he is great. Likes to use brute force. Not especially smart.
Appearance: Short blonde hair, blue eyes, tall (6 foot) and muscular. Weighs ~200 pounds. Wears whatever clothes he has, but especially likes sweaters and scarves.
Ambitions: Get lots of women, be the strongest. Not much else.
Likes: Arm wrestling, working out, V-neck shirts, moderate weather, partying, alcohol.
Dislikes: Weak people, cold weather, people with glasses.
Roleplay Example: It was a cold night, and they were preparing for the raid. George, John and the other pirates had our swords sharpened and we were dying of anticipation. Tonight was the night. They arrived at the docks with no holes in their ship, but they were met by a large force of guards, surprisingly they didn't lose anyone right then, they managed to fight off the guards, and ran towards the mayor's house. They took everything, it was like a second Christmas. Then they ran. But there were more guards. They had to split up. Everyone got away. Except John. He hid in the shadows, we was far behind the others. He was almost to the ship, when he heard a voice.
"Get up slowly, and put your hands on your head."
The guards had caught him.
He woke up the next morning in his small, smelly jail cell. He had to get out at all costs. He had to contact George. Three days later, he was marched to the slave market. It didn't take long for him to be sold, he was muscular, and capable of lots of work. A wealthy merchant had purchased him to carry things onto his ship for him.
Personality: The best word to Describe Tidus at most times would be Stoic. He normally maintains a calm, collected attitude and demeanor towards most he meets at first. Though if one were to spend more time with him, They would find that he is quite Lighthearted. When approached by a tense or pressing matter he, At most cases would dispel the matter by cracking a joke or two, While trying to keep a clam head about things. Though, Much to the dismay of those around him, At times. While Tidus is normally one to take things slow and lightly, If he decides the time calls for it, He is not afraid to jump to action. Wether said action would be reckless or otherwise.
Eius appears to look a bit older than his age, His silver hair turned mostly Grey early on. Parts of his hair is braided, And held together by single pieces of gold beads. Beneath his eyes would be yellow eye makeup. A custom from where he is from. He wears white boots, And Black leather pants. A light blue robe adorned with various golden patterns at the back and side. Beneath it a dark blue shirt with similer golden patterns at it's sleeves.
A time once was.
Eius walked through the small city's winding cobblestone roads. Behind him, What seems to be a guard armed with a simple looking iron spear. Certainly not looking to have been made by any master smith at all, But more like what a Hunter would craft in his abode. The Guard wore a warm looking blue robe, With white fur adorning the edges. Very warm indeed was the Guard, Certainly much more than Eius in the slow falling snow. Which was the norm in this small city. Built in the shadow of mountain's side in the midst of a bitterly cold Forest.
Eius stopped. Surveying the surrounding buildings. A hand waving off snow which had fallen atop his short blue sleeves. The buildings around were damaged, Badly. The stone brick walls of some falling apart. Pieces of rooftops fallen down to the street as debris. Walls stood tall a little down the cobble path. Equally in bad shape, But seeming to have been repaired a bit recently. Guards dressed in similar fashion to the one next to Eius stood beside the Gates of said wall. Which were currently open. A few red stains could be seen on the other side that would most certainly assume to be blood. Eius Sighed heavily, Approaching the gate. Much to the dismay of the guard at his side. "Sir, I would advise against going outside the wall-" "Oh hush now, Need to chat up the boys manning the other side every once and awhile. Hm?" Eius would cut in. The guard would indeed Hush. They would spend a few moments there, Talking about the guardsmen. Eius would note about how no-one had cleaned the walls and floor of the red blood stains, Much to the amusement of the Guards, They all seemed to like Eius. He would then just laugh it off. After a time the two would head back up the long road of the city, Back into the heart and upto what would seem to be a Castle made half out and in a Mountainside.
Upon entering the Building there would be more of such similar Guardsmen and Women. Standing to attention as he would enter the building. "Eh, Hush now. Settle down." He would grin idly motioning them to calm themselves. Walking further, And through several corridors later, The two would enter a decently sized room, A large round table in the middle. Eius's Guard would assume position near the door. Eius on the other hand would make his way to sit down in an empty chair placed at the head of the table. "King Eius! Where exactly have you been. We have been waiting for a half hour.." Snapped what seemed to be an Adviser seated to his left. A much bigger man. Eius would put a fist to his cheek, Leaning on it. Not seeming to pay any mind to the Man. "Well? Where have you been?" asked the man. "Out talking to the guards placed by the gate.. And you?" Another man seated across from him would gasps lightly, Then sigh. "You know as well as I that it is much to dangerous with those undead mucking about. And you also know, As well as I that they are quite fixated on our City for reasons unknown to us." He growled, His tone less than friendly. "Hmm. Hmm. Really? I hardly noticed." Eius chuckled in reply. "This is not a laughing matter!" The man snapped. "Could have fooled me." Eius said calmly. The man across from him would go to reply again, But the adviser sitting to the left of Eius would motion for him to hold his tongue. Clearing his throat first. "Mi'lord.. What are we to do about the thief we found stealing from the food stores earlier..?" He would ask curiously. Eius would stop his wandering eyes which had been glancing around the room. Thinking for a moment. "..Kill him. We have no room in this land for such men." He would say coldly, Lacking the light hearted tone his voice had prior. He would then sigh, His facial expressions not having changed much, Standing up from his chair. "Are we done then?" The man across from him would look to speak, But just holds his tongue. The others would do the same. "Good. Then I should think I will be going now."
A time that is.
The time was late. The moon up high in the night sky. Torches and bonfires adorned the dim castle walls. At the top of the structure, The up most part that you could see that was out of the mountainside, Slept Eius in a his bed. He could see all of his kingdom from his perch up there. But for now, He was content to sleep. It was a normal night. A normal day. So he thought before he went to bed. The distinct sound of armored men falling came from just out his door, A distinct thud being heard. The door opened slowly, A ray of light flew into the room only to be covered up by a large man's shadow soon afterward. The ray of light was then evaporated as the door closed back again. Slowly but surely the man crept upon the sleeping king. In his right hand, A dagger. He closed in the distance between them swiftly, Trying not making a sound. Leaning over the man's sleeping body, The assailant would grin, His face illuminated by the flickers of torches from the window near the bed. He would then slowly put the knife to his throat, This would be a swift end. So he thought. "Goodnight, 'Sweet Ki- Man Human - ng..'" It was then, Eius's eyes opened wide, What he saw was one of his Advisers. The one seated to his left earlier. He would waste no time, Thrusting his right arm upto the assailant's neck, pushing him upward and to the side, His left would smack the dagger out of the man's hand, While rolling off the bed. He managed to catch his adviser off guard, He was not prepared. Although what Eius was not prepared for, Was how easy it was for him to push his larger, Adviser off of himself. Infact, He was standing and still holding him up by his neck, Which.. Oddly felt like fur, Pushing him against the castle wall. Further more, His adviser would let out an almost rat like growl. "Man-Thing will die dea- Res assured my king.. You will die tonight.. -th tonight!" The adviser would growl, Squirming in an un-natural way for his body. The king would blink, Rapidly. Thoroughly confused. "What.. What is.." Then closing his eyes for a good moment. A moment that seemed like forever, After he opened them again.
What he saw when he opened his eyes was a far cry from his grand castle's room. The walls he had been holding his 'Adviser' in actuality was now a dark cave wall. His 'Adviser' in question, Was not even Human. A rat like creature indeed he was. Clothed in dark ragged robes. To Eius's back, His 'Royal Bed' apparently a raggedy blanket atop the cave's floor. He blinked several times, Regaining his composure from the blatant shock on his face. The rat creature still struggling quite a bit, But it seems it already had an injury to begin with, From it's movement. "Right.. Rat creature.." Eius would sigh, Looking as his normal, Composed self. "Where am I..?" The 'Rat Creature' in question, Would then have a sudden jolt more of struggling. "Gold-bit Man thing call Skaven Rat-Mouse creature!?" Eius would re-affirm his grip on the Skaven, Holding one of it's arms down with his free hand. "Alright, Alright. My apologies. Skaven. Would you tell me where I am?" He would say politely. "Pah! Why would Skaven tell man-thing where he is?" The Skaven would growl. "Well.. For one.. I could give you a gold bead or two.." He'd look over to one of the beads at the tips of his braid. "And for two.. I won't kill you.." He would grin, Pushing the Skaven's neck against the cold cave wall. "Deal?" The Skaven would narrow it's eyes at the man. "...Yes-Yes, Accept man-thing offer-deal." The Skaven growls silently. "Splendid! Now then. Tell of this land's name. And also.. Where the nearest semblance of a town would be.. Hrm?" The Skaven would arch a brow, Seeming slightly bewildered at the, To the Skaven, Dumb question. "Harevethhh." It'd say with a cold slither at the end.
After a time, The Skaven went along it's way. Eius had acquired it's sword, Smarter then to let the Skaven have it back. He was happy Albeit terribly confused. He had avoided being killed, And also having to kill. It was a win win, As far as he was concerned. The Skaven pointed out the nearest place of residence holding humans. He decided to set on his way there. The place all looked familiar, As if he had seen it before. Yet he was sure he hadn't. His mind was also deep set in whatever type of dream he was having before he rude awakening, Was it a dream? Or memories? He couldn't tell. Half of it he thought took place in this land, For whatever reason. And then another part of him was sure it was not so. Whatever the case, He would have to think about that later. For now, He would be content on just finding a place suitable to sleep. As this cave was not upto his standards. No no, No at all. And there he went, Sword in toe leaned on his shoulder, Whistling a little tune to himself and onto the road.
Ambitions: To find out more of his past, Whatever it may be. If it's even really a past or not, Or just wild dreams. To explore this new land he has found himself in. Besides that he does not have any other set goals for himself. Well, Besides to have a darn good time while exploring the lands. That is. And also Not dying. He would appreciate that as well.
Likes: Apples, Trinkets, Adventure, A good time, Taverns, Taverns that have a fine drink. Taverns that have a fine drink and finer women. Books, Good company, A good sword fight.
Dislikes: Having no one to converse with, Cooking, Lacking any sort of weapon, Having nothing to do or being unable to do anything that interests him.
Eius would notice a girl, Curled up by the wayside of the road. He'd pause a moment, Thinking. Then walk upto her. He'd heard stories of a girl who was captured by bandits the day before. And this seemed like it might be interesting.
"Hey there, Girl. What exactly are you doing there?" He'd inquire softly.
"...Nothing.. Leave me alone." She'd reply coldly, Obviously not wanting him here. Seeming to be clutching onto something.
"Mhm. Mhm.. Why should I? Would you give me a reason?" He'd tilt his head in questioning, His voice staying it's normal light tone.
"...I said.. leave.. Me.. Alone.." She repeats. In an even more less friendly way.
"Tsk, How about I bring you back to town over back aways, A young lady like you shan't be out in the road like this." He'd say with a nod, Going closer and kneeling down as he talks.
"I said.. Leave.. Me.. ALONE." She repeats once more, Cutting him off as he speaks, Not hearing anything about the town, Seeming enraged and or scared by his approaching. Uncurling herself, Revealing a small knife in her hand. Thrusting it forth at him.
Eius, Not expecting the move would take the thrust, The Knife delving deep into his right arm. "Agh.. Now that.. Was highly uncalled for, Little missy." He'd twitch in pain.
The girl would stay silent comprehending what she had done. Her brown robe seemed torn up. Obviously having been through alot. Tears were evident on her face.
Eius would sigh, Wincing slightly from the stab wound. He then would attempt to lift her up and onto his shoulder left shoulder, Carrying her as if a sack of flour or some sort.
The girl, Not expecting it, Especially from someone she had just stabbed, Would easilly be picked up. Not weighing much. "L-Let me go!"
"Hm, No. I think not. Like I was saying earlier, If you had let me finish.. I'll take you back to town. You shouldn't be out here alone."
The girl would stay silent. Surprised. And feeling guilt.
"So.. That kind of hurt." He'd sigh. Then start whistling. Not seeming to be in much pain from his voice, But his face would tell a different story.
"..I.. I'm sorry.." The girl would sigh. "I thought you were.. I just thought.."
"Eh, Save it. Just promise to buy me a ale or two at the end and we'll be fine. More then fine, Infact." He'd push out a chuckle.
Tuk Tuk! Woo.
How did you find this server?:Just browsing the MC fourms for a RP server
Race: good ol' human
Personality: Jumpy, skittish, and overall nervous, but very determined and loves to find out new things, no matter what the cost. He also likes to experiment and to meet new people (not necessarily to experiment on, but he will still do that if the other person wants to. Or if he wants to know something that bad.) He will wander in the woods occasionally to see if he cant find some new breed of flora or fauna or something similar. He gets irritated when he can't figure out something and may become slightly bossy. To him, religion and things similar are simply lies that people put out to explain things they don't truly want to figure out. Once he has made a discovery that he sees major, he will most likely go out for a drink in the tavern or just relax for a while. If someone tries to rob him or kill him, and fails, and gets caught by drake. Drake will probably knock them out, strap them to something so they can't get out. Then force them to do stuff or dissect them or inject stuff into them. He particularly focuses on things like medical research and astronomy.
Appearance: (Please note I have this appearance do to the inability to change skin..comp crashes no matter what I try.) He has a blood red cloak on that makes is eyes red as well, for unexplainable reasons. He thinks the cloak offers another form of protection, though it has done little good in the past. His eyes are actually a emerald type color and he has pale skin with jet black hair. He is about six foot one. He is incredibly thin. (Probably to thin to be normal.) He is also underweight, only 105 pounds. He is very flexible as well and can dodge and run faster than most people. But he is extremely weak and wont do good in a fist fight. He will occasionally cough up blood or twitch do to him experimenting on himself.
Ambitions: To learn as much as he possible can, even if it means becoming a experiment himself. He would also not really care if it meant killing someone or some people, or even destroy a entire city. To him, knowledge outweighs all of that.
Likes: Knowladge, the unknown, stars, and supernatural things (such as vampires, I don't know if vampires are in this server but he likes them anyhow.)
Dislikes: swords (preferring archery when needing to defend himself.) spiders, and HATES not knowing something.
Drake: Something unexpected happened with the potion I was making.
Han: *sigh* What now?
Drake: Instead of turning orange, like it says in the book, it turned this very dark purple color... Intriguing
Han: Let me see. *Pushes Drake out of the way to examine the potion.*
Drake: You could of said excuse me, you know.
Han: Look who's talking...
Drake: *Rolls eyes* You wont let me forget that time, will you?
Han: Not a chance
Drake: yeah, yeah. So, what do you think of that potion? eh?
Han: I think we should bring another subject in to test it.
Drake: Alright... *Sighs* TOOOOOOMMMMM, get over hear!
Tom: *Comes running up so fast he almost slams into Han.* Y-Yes sir?
Drake: We have another potion for you.
Tom: A-alright.... S-s-sir. W-which potion? S-sir?
Drake: Stop stammering... and its that dark purple potion there.
Tom: *Does his best to stop stammering.* Yes, S-sir.
Han: *Hands potion to Tom* Don't worry, it will probably be a dud like that last one.
Tom: *nods, then drinks the potion.* ....Tastes like Horse S*** mixed with a 10 year old sewer.
Drake: *Laughs* That's nice, Tom.
Tom: *Starts to cough* awwww crap....
Han: Don't worry, let's see what happens.
Tom: *starts to throw up blood. He falls to the ground and starts to shake.*
Han: That's... New
Drake: Get him to the Medical section.
Tom: *Throws up more blood and his visibly having trouble breathing at this point.*
Han: *Picks up Tom and hauls him towards the Medical Section.*
Drake: *Looks at blood* I need to study this further. But who next.... *Thinks a little* never mind. I need a drink. *leaves his facility then heads towards town* maybe I'll find another subject in the tavern to kidnap.
How did you find this server?: Unit117 directed me here.
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 approximately 6’7’’. 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. 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.
Personality:Hardworking, conservative: Only talks/does when he needs. He has a stand up and fight personality and often is seen as a leader.
Appearance:Muscular, thin( not fat ). looks a lot like a very muscular human only he's a migit. Wears a grey shirt, tan cargo pants and carries around a small pack for tools and equipment. His hands are tough from years of work and building as an architect. Because of his work he has seen no fighting, therefore his skin is clean but slightly tanned from his beach walks. He tends to sweat but very slightly. Kynan has a neutral look to him, neither an intimidating/bad look nor the happiest or nicest fellow. he stands with as good posture as a dwarf can.
Ambitions: Kynan's main ambition is to find the true meaning of life, a pursuit for freedom and happiness. In the aspect of his migration he's looking to simply settle down, find a profession, explore, and most of all he looks forward to spreading his architecture, something restricted from his past life.
Likes: Kynan Loves to walk along beaches and watch the waves or sun, if he is not working you will probably find him on a beach. Additionally he loves architecture and building because of the feel of accomplishment when he finishes. His Builds tend to be full of bright colors or light because of his hate for the dark.
Dislikes: Kynan hates anything dark due to a small incident when he was young that led to him losing a sense of direction looking for his father in an old section of some mines. Aside from his hate of the Dark, Kyran also dislikes people who are arrogant and refuse to see both sides of an argument or additionally people who don't accept their own mistakes.
Roleplay Example: Kynan wipes his forehead, debating weather to enter or walk away. The Tunnel's walls rang with the clang of labor, and spoke with the voice of those heaving their picks. But there was nothing, a black darker than the largest clump of coal. Asking himself why he must always hesitate because of a childish memory he lifted his legs and began forward lighting his lamp and holding it up to eye level. As he walked the sight of numerous lamps filled the end of the cavern. "Fellas, how's the stone feel today?" Laughs are heard from a few. " Like marshmallows under a mixer!" one exclaimed. Kynan smiled and began his work. Unlatching the pickax from his backpack, he struck the wall, his hands stern and happy to be back to their usual grind.
Within an hour he hammered away Thirty Nine feet through his passage. Kynan struck down finishing his last foot of the day. The chunk fell and hit the floor glimmering beside his lantern. An odd sight for Kynan, he'd never seen a piece of stone glimmer. Following the stone was a small stream of water growing in size every second he sat to admire the stone laying to the side of his lamp. Touching the stone and to his dismay, it was only water. He turned to walk back home. " Wha... Wait!" He turned and all was black. The water carried him down the tunnel and the men screamed as it took victim by victim. "Grab my ax men!, we must gather!" As dwarves where swept up they began to flow and swim until they where clumped together being carried down the mine. From down the tunnel they saw a lamp of a particular Dwarf, a Dwarf that sparked hope. "Thank the gods it's Portabella! Fella! we'r in need of some assistance!" The exceptionally fat dwarf was unmoved by the torrent of water, turning he absorbed the group of around six or seven dwarves piling face first into his gut. he pulled them into his row which inclined rather than declined, this made for the water to leave rather than enter. they stood catching their breath and watching the never ending flow of water within the main passage. Arguments began to break out. "Will it shtop!? "Aer, prob'bly not! Lad You mus't a hit some sor't a un'der ground river! You'e gone trapped us you dim-wit!" "Calm down! i's happened before! It'll pass, there's a pass'ge it should drain to." "Kynan that was blocked a month ago! there's no drainage passage in this sect'r!" Kynan 's temper began to flair as the dwarves began to argue on their next move. in the meantime the water began to rise. He couldn't decide what to do, the passage was only ten feet inward and on a slight rise, the water would quickly fill. He briefly thought about killing Porbella and blocking the entry. As quickly as he thought about it he discarded it. The water now up to their knee's Kynan had to think of a plan. Swimming was no option due to equipment and the fact no one could swim, he also thought about tunneling but the water would be too quick.
The water rose to his mouth and he took a deep breath testing his lungs. One by one they went under. all was black and cold, Kynan was sure he was dead. instinctively he opened his eyes and almost screamed in relief. he thought whatever god above was vile enough to give him a dream as terrifying as that, should never be praised. The moon shined on his sweaty forehead as he sat up from his chair and felt the sand between his feet, than the cold water rush up and leave cleaning them from any sand. Kynan Sighed, oh how much he hated the dark. leaving heavy imprints, he strode up to his house.
Wow.. i'm sorry that's black. i know how annoying that is...
How did you find this server?: GoBoom82 (i think thats his id)
Name: Crichquol, The Great Prophet
Age: 8 (mind you skaven are fully grown at 2 years old and die of very old age before 20. Most die from other causes before they're 5. They're remarkably childish for obvious reasons).
Personality: Eccentrically friendly when he wants to be. Egotistic, self-righteous, and grand. He has his dense moments though.
Appearance: Tall, gangly Skaven (5'7" + hunch). Back problems as he develops the Pestilencesque arch and hump. Thick, black, overgrown fur. Yellow eyes. Wears a clanrat loincloth. Carries his slave pickaxe as a totem.
Ambitions: To gain the prestige of Clan Pestilence and its thralls, who are ironically trying to hunt down and kill him every day.
Likes: Homely comforts. Skaven boardgames. Missionary work. Feasting on the flesh of others.
Dislikes: Opposition. Also, he F*%$^ hates panthers.
"Crichquol, your most excellent-greatness, most foul-holy, most -" "STOP!"
The advisor trembled and the drums quit again, for all feared Crichquol's retribution.
The advisor, actively squirting pee down his thigh, pointed a shaky finger at himself.
"Continue, little one."
He gulped, and bowed his head, rambling out complements faster than his tongue would allow.
"Your most beautifully-ugly, horrifically-amazing, unspeakably-compassionate, your cruel generosity show-shows no bounds. Most loved and hated, Crichquol!" The advisor quaked in a puddle of his own urine.
"Crichquol, the what?"
"Crichquol, the Great Prophet!" the skaven whined, snout planted firmly in the dirt.
"And what, do you want, peon?!" Crichquol shrieked from his altar.
"I want little, my master, Plague Priest and Lord! I only wish to remind all others that if performed outside of combat, the conversion from human flesh to skaven may only be done on a willing thrall. This girl is neither willing nor in any position to fight, but surely you already know…"
Crichquol scratched his chin and mumbled, "crap..." He sat down atop the altar and thought for a moment. The other skaven were looking at each other, wondering what would happen next. The girl continued to writhe in pain as the half-formed skaven fought unsuccessfully to be spawned from her flesh. A few minutes passed, and finally the Great Prophet rose from his seat. He exhaled and stretched his neck. One, by one, by one he cracked his knuckles, wincing when he pulled a pinky too far. He coughed, puffed out his chest, and continued shouting at the advisor.
"Of course I know that, you insgnificant weasel-dropping!" He gestured to the audience and addressed them directly. "Skaven! I, your great leader, I, champion of plague, I, disciple of the Horned Rat, have bestowed upon you a great feast!"
Aside from the human sacrifice and failed spawn, everyone enjoyed lunch that afternoon. They knew well that the Great Prophet likely had no idea what he was doing, but on the offchance he did, they respected him. It takes a great leader to tell great lies.
Notes: Crichquol is effectively a comic relief. Crichquol sporadically shifts from a menace to all things holy, to a one-man cast of Pinky and the Brain. He's the nuisance that everyone loves to hate. He never seems to die (specifically from executions and angry mobs), and always ends up as a thorn in the ass. He spreads plague and madness, magically reduces people into withering husks, manipulates the rest, and always gets away with a slap on the wrist.
abinness14, Hey I'd like you to just read up on our forums about Skaven cause they live much longer than 20, and if you could expand on your Personality and Appearance that would be great, then repost or say you have edited.
Fair enough UnladenSparrow, Regarding the maturity of the server you can do anything that could be done in real life although I do personally ask for people not to swear in the Global/OOC chat just for common courtesy, There is almost always at least one admin, but that still being an Almost. And about building there are a few places where you can get set up and a few factions where you can go and live and they will help if not build your house completely. Other than that did I answer all your questions?
If you have any further questions feel free to add me on skype and ask them ToxicPurpose
How did you find this server?: I was browsing the servers list
Name: Jacob Mcfarrelly
Personality: Serious and hard working. Usually kind and clear minded. Sometimes gets a little jumpy when not in the woods often. He believes in good but can get a little dark minded. He has his best thoughts while hunting and likes to hunt alone. When he gets nervous or afraid, his eyes dart around and his breathing gets slightly faster.
Appearance: Six foot two with black hair and green eyes. Wears his hunters robes. Has a long scar on his right forearm from a hunting accident. He has a leather quiver he made from bull leather and his clothes were made by a tailor. Other than his clothes, he likes to make things independently unless it is things he cannot craft such as swords or boot buckles. He also has a birthmark on the back of his calf.
Ambitions: Although he likes hunting, he never really stops to think what he wants to do in life. He usually does what he does as he goes. Hunting, skinning, selling, cooking. Though every once in a while, he will stop and think deeply about what he is doing. But he ignores it later and continues what he is doing.
Likes: Loves wolves and a good job. He is also fond of bows. Prefers the woods over town. His love of wolves comes from the day he saw a wolf being outcasted and attacked. he decided to help and he took the wolf in. Eventually the wolf died. Though they did help each other quite a bit.
Dislikes: Completely hates small spaces and dislikes cats.
*Jacob walks into a hunter store and looks around, seeing very few shoppers and a tired old shopkeep. He looks at a bow and inspects it. It seems the shaft is made of Boar Ivory.*
Jacob: It seems to me that this bow would be strong... but too overpriced.
*The shopkeep takes notice*
Shopkeep: That bow yer holdin' has a story. All the items here have a story and a value to match.
*Jacob Shakes his head*
Jacob: I'd like to hear it but I can't stay much longer. maybe another time sir.
Shopkeep: That's fine. The young must stay on their feet. May the wind be at yer back fella.
*Jacob smiles and walks out with his last words*
Jacob: Farewell sir.
*As he leaves, he sees some men fighting in the streets.*
Jacob: I best leave it be.. It seems like a fair fight.
How did you find this server?: scrolling through le minecraft forum.
Name: Vuln Tal
Personality: Vuln is a battle-scarred mercenary. He is willing to do anything for money. He does not have any morals, and keeps to himself. He doesn't make friends, because he's scared that if he gets too close to someone, he will end up killing them due to them knowing too much. Vuln will do whatever it takes to get the job done. However, he does not like getting caught, and will try to keep the risk level to a minimum. Vuln went to the war, and fought as a general. (I'm going to assume there was a war.)
Appearance: Vuln has a thin, straight scar across his eye. He has terrible posture, and is always humped over, like his rat ancestors. Vuln is about 5'4 feet tall, but slouches so much he is, in reality, 5 feet. Vuln has good muscle structure, and keeps in shape. He wears leather rags, with a belt that holds a dagger. The dagger has a few symbols, translating to 'Rest In Peace' in human language. Vuln has grey fur, and is heterochromic, with one green eye and one red eye. He also has an off-putting gash on the side of his face, still a bit bloody.
Ambitions: Vuln wants to be the richest skaven there was. He strives to own an expansive cave, that no one may enter. He wants to live a secluded life one day, far away from the nearest person.
Likes: Vuln likes to brew, for he is an expert with poison. Vuln is also good with a dagger, and has very sharp aim.
Dislikes: Vuln dislikes people, and likes to keep affection to a minimum. The one thing Vuln is scared of is fire. Although Vuln may seem like a muscle head, he does enjoy a good book.
Roleplay Example: Vuln sits in at the rustic local tavern, waiting for a beer. He looks around at all the people, socializing, having a good time, and he looks at them again, this time, with utter disgust. A young human, around the age of 18 takes a seat at the table where Vuln sits. Vuln's pompous server brings him his beer. Vuln lays down the payment for the server, without saying anything. The young male says "How do you do?" "Fine" Vuln says, with a tone that says just get to the point already" "I heard about... your line of work.. from a close friend." "Aye. Now we're talking business. What do you need, laddy?" The young man leans in. Vuln turns his head, as the guy is going to whisper into his ear "There is this man.. lives on first street. Brown hair, thick beard. He carries around a wooden hammer. Big hunk of a guy. He.. stole my wife. You know him?" "I think i know who your talkin' about." "I was wondering... if you could.. get rid of him?" "Now, what kind of death are you thinking about?" "Poison. And pin in on that terrible wife of mine." "I can do that. Lets talk price. Are you willing to pay me a 150 gold?" Vuln says this, while hoping for 100 gold. He wants the young man to think he is a good negotiator, though. "150? How about 110." "I don't know about that.." "105." "No." "100" Vuln sighs, but internally, he is extremely happy. "Looks like we got ourselves a deal." The two men shake on it. The young man hands him his payment. Vuln leaves the inn, chuckling, satisfied he got good business. I should come to the bar more often. Vuln thinks to himself.
Not to be Pushy in any way, I know admins can be very busy but I saw I was accepted yet i'm not whitelisted. Posting this just in-case you accidentally spelled my ign wrong since that happens alot.. It's spelled exactly as seen on forum profile. and i think i fergot to post Tuk-Tuk so there it is!