I love the server so far! So much fun and it'll be even better when the economy is fixed!
Hopefully I can get that RP Mod position too! ^.^
I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. We're hard at working fixing the issues which persist. We've taken your application into consideration, and we're going to withhold judgement until we get to know you a little better.
Minecraft Name:
Agurka200 Character Name:
Crowell Black, but his pseudo is Blackbane. Are you aware that having an accepted Evils application does not make you above any of the rules, particularly powergaming and realistic roleplay?:
Of course it doesn't. Having an evil character will only allow me to do things IC. The rules that confine everyone still apply for me. Clearly define the abilities/traits you are applying for and explain why you need them:
Blackbane is a mercenary and a sellsword, as such, he would of course need to be able to kill people that he's paid to. He is currently working on starting a mercenary operation with two other persons on the server, although the two persons would be the leaders, and he'd be operating by their command. He has also made some enemies in Kurgan's Hold, that he intends to harm. The main reason I need an EA is to kill unprovoked. Describe your character’s personality:
Crowell often plays dumb, but is in fact rather bright when it comes to strategy, and plans of attack. He's often in a good mood, particularly when humming or whistling. He suffers from paranoia. What are your character's strengths/weaknesses?:
While he is strong, tall, and muscular, Crowell fights in rather a brutal and unskilled fashion. For example, Crowell swings his sword high, and would try bringing it across John's stomach.'"Doing such would give John the opportunity to make a more skilled attack, possibly even rewarding Crowell with a fatal wound. Crowell is a great liar and good at swordfighting, shooting from bows, and at throwing small daggers. But he has many weaknesses.He rarely uses common sense, getting angry easily and arguing over the tiniest things that annoy him. As well as this, Crowell is very envious of those with more wealth than he. What will your character do on a daily basis?:
Crowell is trying to help form a guild, along with two others. Until the purchase of a guild-house, he'll usually be looking for work, or doing any tasks he has in order to get any arcos he can. After such a purchase has been made, he'll likely spend some time getting it ready for use. After such a grand task has been managed, he'll probably rest in the inn, train his sword-skills, and make pleasant strolls whenever he's not wrapped up in guild business. What moral boundaries does your character have, if any?:
He is a mercenary, short and sweet. While this is the case, he doesn't kill people that he's not being paid for, or haven't attacked him to begin with. As well as this, he's not fond of having to kill animals, children, or old people. If another sellsword gets in the way, he'll be forced to either take him out, or come to a deal. Due to his short temper, though, it often results in the former.
Please provide your character’s biography:
Ages 0 - 9:
Crowell grew up with his father, since his mother left them when Crowell was only 3. His father was a drunk, and there was not alot of food on the table. Crowell did nothing as he grew up. He didn't have any friends, since they lived in a tent, and often moved from places where he'd make friends. His father then left Crowell with another woman they found at an Inn at Kurgan's Hold. Crowell was left alone, with a tent, and very little food, only 8 years old. It is then that a man named 'Jaskr' found him whilst travelling on the roads, with a rolled up tent on his back. Jaskr offered Crowell food, and by the looks of it, was very rich. Jaskr offered to take Crowell into custody, and let him live at his house in Kurgan's Hold, the capitol of Redania. Crowell accepted, and went with the man. Jaskr was a lonely man, and spent the majority of time playing board games. At 9 years old, Crowell began to steal from Jaskr, small jewels and little sums of money. When he had enough arcos, he bought a sword fitting his height and weight. Jaskr asked how he got it, and Crowell told him he found it. Jaskr believed him, ignoring the failed attempt at lying. Ages 10 - 19:
At the age of 13, he had enough of the capitol, and stole a decent amount of food, some warm clothing, and a bedroll from Jaskr's house. He walked out of the house, whilst singing a song, in a cheery mood. Whilst growing up, Crowell would often have to resort to pickpocketing to feed himself. While he wasn't the best, and often got caught, it taught him a few valuable lessons about being a thief. At the same time as this, he would also train swordfighting, and his aim with a bow. Little did he realise that the stronger and heavier-handed he got, the easier it would be for people to notice him picking their pockets. Crowell was young, back then. Young and ignorant. Ages 20 - 29:
At the age of twenty-one, Crowell realised that pickpocketing wouldn't be the best career to support him in the long run. He started to organise little children to do it for him, and would take what they stole, and use small portions to buy treats for them. He was proud of this, but knew it wouldn't last. There would never be an unending supply of children. He eventually turned to larger pockets of crime, and joined a small time criminal guild, and had a dark blue tattoo on his shoulder to prove it. While in his later years, he would learn to regret this, at the time he was over the moon. And this would be his downfall.
After a bloody fight in a bar, Crowell was taken back to a pharmacy, and had his shirt removed to be treated. A guard present recognised the tattoo, and decided that the best course of action would be to arrest him. In Crowell's injured state, he could do little to resist, and spent the night in agony in a cell. He requested an audience with the king, but no-one would hear him. He served two years of his life there, and risks doing more now if anyone were to see what he had initially thought a harmless tattoo
Crowell came out of prison, wanting to start something that wouldn't be busted instantly. He decided to purchase a small fishing stall, where he would sell fish and intoxicating things. He'd also scam people, selling both the fish and drugs at a very high price. Sooner or later, someone employed by Crowell squeeled, and he had to leave the city to not be arrested again. Ages 30 - 39:
Angry and dumb, he had the idea to start a mercenary pack named Wardogs. He met two dwarfven twins, Dilan and Filan, and they started stealing from innocent folks on the countryside. Sooner or later, he found another lad named Jack, that had two wolves. Crowell decided to manipulate Jack, since the boy was stupid and easy to control. He made him go into the capitol every month and ordered him to steal weapons from the local smithery. Jack was never busted, since he was light on his feet, and could blend in easily. Crowell then started to sell his sword, along with his comrades. They were often ordered to slay petty thieves and thugs, that had done small evil deeds. They got alot of coin for that, and bought supplies to have a travelling camp, along with two direwolves.
Soon they met a teenager, alone in the woods, and decided he'd be the new errand boy. They gave him one of the wolves, and made him go to Kurgan's Hold everyday to steal food, clothing and small weapons. Then, the boy left the group after 10 years, and wanted to redeem himself somewhere in the capitol. Crowell was left with Dilan and Filan, since Jack left a few days after the boy. Then the three separated, and Crowell saw no other choice but to go back to the capitol, wearing black, dusty rags, trying to give himself a mysterious and possibly threatening air, so as people wouldn't approach and ask who he was.
Whitelist Application Format: OOC Minecraft username: Crystik_Rage What is your age: 17 What is your timezone: Central What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Overall seven years, though my youth was much less than acceptable quality. Multiple minecraft RP servers, forum RPing, and RPing over other formats. Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: I have. What is the rule you agree with the most?: How do I agree with a rule the most...? I supposed if I had to name one, I would pick the staying in IC rule. How did you find the server?: Just browsing along in my boredom, looking for a good server. Why should you be whitelisted?: Because I'd like to join it to RP...? Should I have some deep, elaborate reason?
Define powergaming: Forcing someone, or something, to do things that they don't want to do. Define metagaming: Using information that your character simply wouldn't have in character. Like somehow knowing about a hidden stash, because you were told via skype. Who was the first king of Redania?: King Althan? Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: An Orb of Darkness, correct? Who are the Jarr?: DarkskinnedElfs
IC Character Name: Cruros Carter Character Age: 25 Character Gender: Male Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): Relatively muscular, though not to the point of being inhibiting. Holds no facial hair, but could be considered handsome by some.
Character Personality (How your character acts): He can be rather curious, against his own good, but tries to stay out of things that he knows could bring him harm, if he can avoid it.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths): Cruros is a skilled swordsman, and fairly acrobatic. He's knowledgable in metals and how to retrieve them from the earth, and how to smith them to his will. He is a terrible farmer, however, and was never known for his skill in archery. He can be brash at times, and far too willing to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events): Cruros grew up on a small farmstead, destined to lead a boring life of sustenance farming for himself, as his family had for generations. That was, until it was discovered just how lacking in the art of the plow he was. No matter how much his father tried to teach him, no matter how many long, painstaking hours Cruros spent in the fields, the only thing that grew were his muscles. He never truly gained the touch to bring life to a field, the ability to make the seeds sprout into something greater.
Instead, he was saved from this life instead by a mine opening up in the area. Cruros went to work in it, using the muscles he'd formed from years of being forced to work the fields to great advantage. In the process, he angered his family, though they accepted his decision in the end. He was still making a living for himself, afterall, their family line would still continue. Eventually, the mine expanded into a cave, and creatures of the deep were released. It was there, during his work, that Cruros gained his ability to fight. The miners were equipped to defend themselves, unable to hire security, but the metals they retrieved were simply too valuable to abandon.
Often times, Cruros would have to abandon his work to fend off one attack or another, and eventually, he took his gathered skills and quit the job, now exploring the world instead.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Cruros hadn't been paying much attention when the man had leaped out before him. His hand immediately went to a well worn blade at his side, as he remembered the many times similar scenarios happened to him. He'd grown wise enough to the world to know, however, that this man was almost certainly bluffing.
A man with allies wouldn't simply jump out and reveal himself, and themselves. No, they would use their numbers, intimidate him, make sure he knew what he was dealing with. As it stood, Cruros doubted that there was another man, besides them, within the next thousand feet. "How about you turn around, and leave, if you value your life."
The bandit was shocked at the sheer challenge presented to him. 'This punk doesn't know who he's messing with... I can take him down alone...' The bandit charged him, swinging a large axe with abandon. Cruros easily sidestepped the swing, pulling his blade out in the process to cut a wide gash in the mans back as he passed by. The bandit cried out in pain, as he turned around, fury clear in his eyes now. Again he charged, and Cruros met him head on, blocking the overhead swing completely, twisting his blade to catch the blade of the axe, and easily disarming the man.
Before he could react to his axe being ripped from his hands, Cruros turned his blade and shoved it through his chest. "I did warn you..." The man only gasped out as his blood leaked out from the wound, his limbs slackening as he slid off the blade, collapsing to the road lifelessly. After cleaning off his sword, Cruros continued on his way, sighing at the idiocy of some people.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
His most recent venture into the earth had been profitable. A dungeon had been discovered and cleared out, Cruros taking away the prize of money and other assorted items, and had decided to celebrate in a tavern. The man who stumbled into him brought a sigh of annoyance, though his words brought more.
"I'm the one sitting down. How about you watch your step." He wasn't in the mood for this, not so soon after his own success. He wanted to celebrate the night with a few drinks and a delicious meal, and that was being ruined by the worlds never ending supply of idiots.
"What'd you shay to me?" The drunken man glared at him, clearly not pleased with his response. Another sigh, before Cruros turned in his stool to look at the man. He hadn't even drawn himself to his full height, and he knew he was larger than the man, by atleast a few inches.
"If you're looking for violence, than continue insulting me. Otherwise, leave. I don't have the patience to deal with you." Clearly, the drunkard hadn't been expecting so... Aggressive a response, and eventually decided that it wasn't worth it, walking off, grumbling about one thing or another, as Cruros let out a final sigh and returned to his drink.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
The items were interesting, chains to attach to a weapon that would make it impossible, or close to it, to be disarmed. Such a tool would be useful in the things that Cruros often did, though when the merchant named his price, he was shocked by the sheer expense. He didn't have the coin to purchase the chains, and knew for a fact that the metal used in them wasn't worth a tenth of their construction.
"Any chance you'd be willing to haggle over that price?" The merchant shook his head, pointing to a sign. It read clearly 'Prices are non-negotiable.' Oh well. Cruros knew there was some fool in the world who was willing to pay more than needed, and he'd gained the information he needed to know from the items construction. Soon enough, he'd just buy the metal and forge himself a chain for his blade, instead of paying for the added labor, he would do it himself.
So he walked away from the stand, whistling idly as a stand selling fruit caught his eye. "I wonder if the price on apples has risen as well..." He muttered something about the price of goods rising, though didn't say anything more as he walked towards the stand.
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: I've roleplayed on several other MC servers such as Eurasia and Uthrandir and have a few years of experience from roleplaying on WoW.
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes, I have read and understand, and accept all the rules stated.
What is the rule you agree with the most?: I agree with the "no magic" rule. I feel as if this is a very reoccurring thing on plenty of RP servers on MC, and when they are applied, it tends to get a bit messy.
How did you find the server?: Through searching the forums, I'm itching to RP again!
Why should you be whitelisted?: I'm interested in immersing my own character into the server's detailed lore, and just itching to roleplay once more! I'm a very mature player when it comes to RP, but I can also be laid-back and easygoing with other activities. I feel as if the more mature and friendly players are on an RP server, most small conflicts should be handled accordingly with maturity and kindness, and this can also attract other mature and friendly players to the server itself!
Define powergaming: Powergaming is the action of another player forcing another player's character to do something that they wouldn't want to do. I frequently see this in fights, especially when someone is attacking another player, saying that the other character got hit even though it was not consented by the this other player. This also can tie in with God modding, which would
have a person's character able to excel at every possible skill or be able to accomplish anything, even if it were completely impossible, which would allow them to force characters to do certain things due to their OP skills or accomplishments not previously achieved
.
Define metagaming: Metagaming is using Out of Character information to their advantage and bringing it into RP to further their character or just act knowledgable. It's quite common when meeting a person and knowing their name OOC but then using that information in RP, even though you haven't ever met the person In Character.
Who was the first king of Redania?:Kurgan D'arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: King Ganrik's newest successor to the throne took the fabled "Orb of Chaos" and did not heed the late dead king's warning. This mad king rose to power with the orb by his side, and controlled very old magic. This attracted many exotic beasts, such as dragons and large spiders to the mountain. During all this, the Dwarves began to argue and grow mad like their king was, sparking only with small arguments and petty fights until it full-on erupted into bloodshed of the many dwarves that resided inside. One dwarf did manage to survive, after seeing visions from the orb after killing two of his kind for it. He fled out of the kingdom, spreading the word of this corrupted orb and how the his great kingdom collapsed.
Who are the Jarr?: Dark skinned elf individuals hailing from a desert-like climate, known for their grand sandstone cities, that were soon abandoned due to contant issues with plagues. The Jarr also followed in the shadows of dragons, wandering wherever they went. They did eventually meet the Redanians, who they interbred with and it eventually got to the point where only the
dark skin color was the only distinguishable trait.
IC
Character Name: Daenyra "Nyra" Stone
Character Age: 26
Character Gender: Female
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc):
Towering over most petite females, the stocky Daenyra Stone keeps a fit and muscular boyish-like figure. Her chin-length, dark brown locks of hair frame her thick jaw-line, and which these locks of hair partially cover her one eye-patch-covered eye, and some hair fringes over her right, uncovered ocean-blue eye. Between her eyes, lies her quite pointy but stubby nose, covered in light freckles, which can't be seen unless she was standing in the sun's rays. Her attire consists of simple leather armor over chain mail, her gauntlets, pads on her knees and her boots are covered in some iron. Sometimes she wears a light brown cloak to help ease the pain with colder weather. She rarely removes her armor in front of people, unless she trusted you enough to feel even comfortable enough to do that.
Character Personality (How your character acts):
(As for D&D Alignment she'd be Lawful Neutral) Resilient and tough as stone, Nyra acts quite cold, stiff, and tough-as-nails around some at first, but to most, she rubs off as diplomatic in a sense when dealing with tasks, and other people. She tends to act stubborn at times and sometimes likes alone time to herself. She also has come to terms with sometimes getting too fierce and infuriated when bothered enough, she has had times in her past where she has gotten in a farce or two. Her anger issues tend to show up especially if she's had a bit to drink, but she's decided to give that pastime up for the time being.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths): Strengths: Boldness: Bold at times, Nyra gets this to brave through the darkest of times. Naturally Brave: Combined with her boldness, she will do anything that would scare most. This can also lead to her unfortunate death if she dare tread the line between life and death. Experience: Has experience with the job of sellsword, has experience with being around blacksmiths/knowing smithing jargon, and knows her way around using a one-handed shortsword in times of dire need. Follows any codes/laws and orders set upon her to the T. Weaknesses: Pyrophobia: After an accident with fire while smithing with her father, she now has a fear of flames and just is straight up uncomfortable with flames. She rarely tells people about this. Can not swim: Never learned how to swim, ever. She spent most of childhood helping out her father due to the lack of a mother. Stubbornness Anger Issues Prejudiced toward men: She has completely convinced that some men out there can be absolutely rude and a block to her life goals, but she has learned to ignore them and continue onward, unless she was provoked. Not formally trained: Not formally trained in the art of swords, but she would like to learn so she can reach her ultimate goals in life. Likes to spend money on useless wares: Due her interest in fascinating objects, sometimes she will literally become poor due to these poor choices while searching for supplies at markets.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Lifting the sledgehammer up into the air, she scuffles her feet across the sand, moving into a balanced stance before striking down with such ferocity on the molten-red iron. CLANG! The iron hissed and cried at her with every strike. A monotonous task, letting the blacksmith choose where she might hit next, and there she would repeat the as always: lift, balance, then strike! The memories of being a striker clamored through her mind as she relived the past several years while daydreaming under a tree, while waiting for her client to return with today's pay.
Not many women could complete this tedious task though. It was quite a challenge for young Daenyra Stone to even try. It was about three to four years until she used the sledgehammer at the prime age of 16, testing and practicing her strength, performing tasks that her father, the blacksmith, would give her. When she did finally use the hammer itself, it was when her job as striker ended. A tragic accident involving fire and hot iron rendered her vision to one eye, damning herself as an unemployed freak-show of a human being: Tall and muscular, dark brown hair that reached chin-length, one piercing ocean-blue eye, and a boyish-like look about her. Who would of wanted Nyra Stone? Her father surely did not. His words echoed through the endless chasm that she called her mind, full of uninteresting facts and smithing jargon, which screamed: "It takes two equally sharp eyes to create suitable craft."
Enraged and upset, Nyra set out for greener pastures, departing from the outskirts of the settlement named Hinterstoder, stealing a shortsword and supplies from her father, and then ran off. She developed a fierce habit of drinking, attending in many inns in bouts of drinking. She on occasion would also partake in fights, beating a man in a just farce of iron and steel out of pure luck, the other times resulting in her being beaten. This summed up her adolescence.
A few years out of her strife, she matured greatly, abandoned her drinking habits, and had three or four years of experience alone under her belt. She'd much prefer working alone, especially by self-employing herself as a sellsword to unknown nobles and merchants in Redania. From this, she likes the duty and diplomatic duty of protecting another's life. Enthralled by the tales of the greatest knight in Redania, Sir Arnald, one of Nyra's greatest goals is to actually try to raise to knighthood, to prove a point to some that she can raise to a higher role than most women could ever do in their lives.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Along the not-so-sturdy side roads of Redania, Nyra and her nobleman client, who she sworn to protect with her life, was making her rounds to pass through a side road.. without the conflicts and trouble of travelling on the main road. She towered over the old nobleman, surprised when he asked for her to protect her with her blade a few days past. They had been out on the road for several days, occasionally stopping to take a rest under a nearby oak tree.
She always took this path, especially when trying to traffic her clients to places in Redania. Nyra always noted that there was nearly no trouble by travelling not-so-treadded roads. The old man was sitting a bit back, she was scouting on ahead to make sure that no fallen trees or any sort of blockade on the road would slow their journey.
A rustle of branches and the sound of thudding feet came close to her, and she soon was confronted by a bandit, taller and more gruff look than she did. Most tended to see her as a feminine boy, and she really didn't mind at this point anyways.
"My men lay hidden around you and that-" He pauses mid-sentence to hold up his two-handed longsword, and point behind her, possibly noting the old man taking a snooze at the tree several stride lengths away. "-old nobleman back there, has something I want. Drop everything ya got, and we won't poke ya." Daenyra furrows her eyebrows confusidly, giving a glare at the bandit.
Her voice, deep, but disquishly female, earned a raised eyebrow from the man. "Who says that he's a nobleman?"
"The fact that we've followed ya for a day 'ah two. Don't act all surprised, we hear ya."
Noting the man's sharpened longsword, she realized that she with some experience with her one handed shortsword would be no chance against such a large blade, she refused to draw her blade anyways, she didn't know if others were hiding around or not.. and she wouldn't want to find out anyways, especially by starting a fight.
Unclasping her belt, she drops what little she has, two daggers and her shortsword. "All I have."
"I don't want anythin' ya have, woman. The nobleman, bring 'im over here, ya? I'll come with ya so ya don't try any business with me." The bandit replied, still holding the longsword up.
The most foolish mistake that the bandit made, was to actually walk away from the line of sight of his possible mates. She walked behind him, keeping a calm distance, while putting back on her belt. The old man woke with a start, noticing Daenyra and the bandit in front of her, staring at Nyra with pure fear. He said nothing though, to Nyra's surprise. The man nearly talked her ear off for most of the trip and this was the most silence that she has heard from him.
Taking this advantage, she removed her sword, not unsheathing it, and she swung her unsheathed sword plus scabbard, to attempt to hit the bandit's neck. Out of pure luck, it did hit, but the consequences were not worth the hit. Almost instinctively the bandit slashed at her, wounding her right arm, piercing right through her leather armor. "RUN!" She screamed to the old man, while the bandit was still facing Daenyra. Grabbing his wares, the old man stumbles while running and gets a good distance away from the bandit, starting to sprint off.
Holding her unsheathed sword, while the her left hand held her fresh wound, she ran off as well, while the bandit just stood there for some odd reason. Normally he would of knocked her head off by now.
A hiss streamed by her, passing through the brush past her line of sight. An arrow pieced a nearby tree, and this began to make Daenyra fear for her life. Where was the old man? Arrows kept hissing past her, noting that the archer themselves was a bad shot, or she was sprinting too quick for her life. Rain began to pour, the rainclouds releasing their torment onto the ground below, and Daenyra had run for several hours now, the arrows and possibly the bandits gone by now. She hadn't seen any sign of the bandit, and her arm was hurting badly. She stopped at this time to wrap a surrogate bandage around her arm, to stop the bleeding for now. Searching everywhere, she could not find the man or any traces of him on that road. Maybe if she weren't injured she could have searched much longer.
She did make it back to town though after a few hours of wading in the rain and searching. Nyra never saw the man again, sadly. No one ever noticed, so she never spoke about him nor asked.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Daenyra Stone stopped drinking. But why was she still in this inn, partaking in the habit? Sometimes she never knew why, so she just excused it as a small "reward" for herself, and only drink just ONE tankard of ale.
Among the several occupants in the small inn, Nyra sits back in her chair, enjoying her "reward," by slowly sipping and taking a large swig or two of ale. It had been a few months since she had ale, so she felt the slight buzz of alcohol cloud her senses which allowed her to relax a bit more. A drunken man walks by, stumbling into her, screaming, "...Watch wheres ya goin'!" ending with other garbles and swears. She realized that most of her ale had spilled onto her and the man.. and maybe if she were a bit more intoxicated, she probably would have snapped at the man's drunkenness. Nyra took it as a blessing though, leaving the rest of the tankard there, and stopped drinking for the night.
Making her way out of the inn, she sort of regretted leaving the last swigs of the ale on the table. "Damn."
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Making her rounds at the market with today's pay was quite difficult for Daenyra. It was her first time at this market, and she was quite interested in what they had. She had a knack of buying interesting items, but not having enough money left over to buy necessary supplies and the sort, sadly. But, her eyes immediately caught sight of this gleaming blade in the sunlight, at a stall where most would pass by. Nyra had a fascination in the intricacy and craft of weapons, especially if they were very cared for. Sometimes she wished she could go and learn more about the profession of Smithing where she could learn how to make such blades.
Picking up the blade, she unsheathed it from the tough leather scabbard. Mouth agape, the merchant at the stall peaks his interest at Nyra glancing at the blade.
A strong, foreign accent awoke her from her daydreaming, thinking about if she had the suffcient funds to actually afford the beautiful sword. Inviting her in, the stall smelled different than the outside stalls, stinking of spices and other foreign smells. Smiling and speaking of the blade itself and it's origin, he named such an outrageous price, that Daenyra's eyebrows rose so high from their original position that the merchant had to ask, "Are you okay?" She blinked for a moment, contemplating. She then shook her head. "It's a interesting sword, but I'm not here for this." She leaves the blade on the table in front of the merchant.
The merchant shrugged, the darker skinned man disappearing into the confines of his stall, and Nyra had secretly hoped that he would scramble for a new, less outrageous price in a few moments. Alas, moments passed and he did not.. and she just pushed the idea of the sword into the back of her mind for later, when she would have the funds to buy it for herself.
Nyra made her out of the weird-smelling stall and moved herself across the market, to check other wares that she would need for the next few days, hoping the merchants there wouldn't name such outrageous prices.
BcParadise What is your age: 18 What is your timezone: Central Time (US & Canada)
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: First encounter in roleplay would have been around eight years ago on Warcraft III. That is, of course, if we’re not counting the years of pretending with friends. On Warcraft III (Reign of Chaos and The Frozen Throne), I eventually met this guy named Varzkkar, otherwise known as MagmaLava at the time before he had his identity crisis. There, I experimented with the custom RP maps, and even some chat-channel RPs (Didn’t go over very well for the most part). It’d be a bit before I moved on from Warcraft III to other waters, like Minecraft. I’ve been RPing in Minecraft for a good three or so years now, although I can’t actually get a good date on it, and that hasn’t been three consecutive years of Minecraft RP; I’ve taken breaks where they were needed, which was a lot honestly. But between those three years and breaks, I did copious amounts of Forum-RPs and general Skype-RPing (there are so many kinds). Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Of course!
What is the rule you agree with the most?: Gotta say I agree with “-To kill without provocation, be psychotic or otherwise mentally ill, and commit any extreme criminal acts (such as mass arson), you need to have an accepted Evils Application.” It sucks to have random psychotic or otherwise evil characters running around. Especially when they make no sense in terms of why they’re mentally ill in the manner they are.
How did you find the server?: Through Varzkkar, truthfully. He found the server and told me about it quite a bit, for a fairly long time.
Why should you be whitelisted?: I think I’d make a good addition to the server. I think.
Define powergaming: An action that does not take into consideration the opinion or consent of other players, or worse; reality. These actions are usually very favorable to the person undertaking them, and are commonly unfair to everyone else involved, unfortunately.
Define metagaming: Similar to powergaming in a sense, but on a different end of the spectrum. Metagaming is when a character has knowledge he/she/it should not have, and has no ability to know. This is commonly found when someone hears, or finds, something out out of character, and then uses that knowledge in character. An example roughly being an archer knowing magic, or how to cast magic. This archer was born under a rock, and now mysteriously has the knowledge of magic? How this happened, no one knows. Hint: The player heard the admins talking about it.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'Arco Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: The first Great Dwarven Kingdom collapsed because of a ‘civil war’ by the loosest of definitions. It’s subjects had been tainted by an old form of magic that resonated from an orb brought up by a new king’s command, after the old and former king had ordered its removal and for it to be hidden. Once the orb had been taken to the city it subsequently infected the king, and then his people. The civil war, basically everyone killing each other over the smallest of things, was accompanied by dragons and spiders flocking to the mountain in which the city was nestled. Who are the Jarr?: The Jarr were a race of dark skinned elves that were largely found in desert regions, and belonged to the civilization of Jarr’al.
[In Character]
Character info
Character Name:
Jaden Seeker Character Age: 25 Character Gender: Male Character Race: Half-Elf, Northerner.
Character Appearance: Jaden is a very tall (6’4-6’5) but incredibly pale man, who appears (and is) rather fit with lean and well toned/defined muscles. He’s the kind of pale you’d expect to see on an albino shut-in hybrid. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you’re asking, he’s neither of those. To his knowledge, at least. He has eye length black hair that gives him a faintly menacing appearance, but a smile (depending on the situation) usually erases that negative aspect in an instant, depending on the person of course. To compliment his rather gray-scale appearance, Jaden had at one point in his life decided to endorse the black and white features, and wear a long, thick and dark coat/cloak. Despite how ragged and worn it’s become over the years, he’s rather protective of it in an almost fatherly manner. Below his cloak, and on his bare skin are the signs of many, many scars and old wounds that never got the proper treatment they deserved, or needed at the time; complimenting the various tattoos he has on his arm quite nicely. These tattoos seem to be completely nonsensical to anyone who doesn’t know the story behind them, but they appear to be a simple ‘X’ on his right shoulder with a long, black and 2-D appearing chain that spiral all the way down his arm and stops at his wrist. Where the black chain stops, sits two more tattoos, one of a black sunrise, and the other of an also black butterfly.
Character Personality: He is a very protective and caring person, despite his violent tendencies. He often expresses this in odd ways, the most notable is his protectiveness for friends, namely Ruka, or even just acquaintances he’s randomly met. Or his cloak. He’s been known to be protective about any of his belongings as well. Not in a greedy way, but more of a silly, joking way. It’s very easy to ‘burn the bridge’ in terms of friendship with the dark haired man, he’s not likely to forgive someone for something they’ve done to him, or his friends if he feels they did it in ill intent; he will personally bury the ashes of those ‘friendship bridges’ if his own actions towards fixing them are met with hostility. Again, despite his very unforgiving manner, Jaden is very kind and gentle to people who don’t burn his lovely bridge, and is willing to help them in most manners he can! Character Strengths/Weaknesses: He would consider his best ‘strength’ to be his combat prowess with a weapon, or no weapon if the situation is that bad. He’s used and held weapons for most of his life, so somewhere during those years he’s figured out which end is the pointy end and worked from there. He’s good with words as well, and can be quite charismatic, a good leader of sorts. A good leader is not stupid by any means, but he’s commonly ruthless and very, very directive driven. He’s not exactly lawless either, he wouldn’t steal.. But if a shop window stopped him from his target, he’d ensure the window paid for that in glassy, crystalline blood. His ruthlessness, or harsh methods of doing things often extends to his combat abilities if he’s sufficiently worked up enough, and well coordinated attacks will often become very brutish and uncoordinated.
Character Biography
Jaden’s tale often starts with his wanderings in the northern regions of the land, the colder and untamed lands. Or at least that’s where he likes to start, and often does not go much further back than that unless he has to. He grew up in the nurturing arms of his ‘uncle’, who took over Jaden’s guardianship after he deemed Jaden’s biological father unfit to keep himself on track, let alone raise a young, adventurous boy. Jaden’s ‘uncle’, or sole parental figure, was not actually related to Jaden in the slightest, except by being the father’s best friend. Despite no actual blood ties to the young boy, the ‘uncle’ did not let that stop him from teaching him everything he could, and went out of his way to teach compassion and understanding. Those were things young Jaden would need in the world if he ever truly wanted to accept where he was, and why things had happened the way they did, and to move on. On the deathbed of his uncle, the teenager Jaden wept while holding his hand, fearing the illness that was quickly sweeping his uncle’s health away was going to soon take the life away from his closest friend and his fatherly figure. His ‘uncle’, seeing these tears, knew his time was running out, and that it was time for the boy to know why he had taken care of him for all these years. He began to tell the dark haired boy, Jaden, that when he was a baby, his mother had fallen ill just after he was born, and the post-childbirth weaknesses had given the sickness enough momentum to kill her. From the death of his wife, Jaden’s father had fallen into a deep, unstoppable depression that left him mentally and socially crippled. With his best friend slowly dying, and in a state that was unfit to even be near a child, the uncle took young Jaden away from his real father, leaving his best friend with the parting words of “I’ll raise him right Astryder, you can be in our lives again when you’ve found peace.” After hearing these words, they did not pain Jaden as much as they should have. The compassion and understanding he had been taught as a young child had shielded him from most of the pain, and instead he channeled the emotions he felt into love for the man who had raised him, and stayed next to his bedside until his final breaths withered away on his lips. After burying his uncle, his self-made father, he packed his things and left their home in a small village. After leaving his only home, Jaden made his way out in the wilderness, and other areas in the region, mostly doing mercenary work; odd jobs and other dirty work that hardened his heart. He did his best to shield his mind and heart, but the damage had been done; much of his uncle’s hard work was being undone before his very eyes, and he was doing his best to turn away from it. One night, he had been laying in his bedroll after a day of hard work when he, in a feverish dream, spoke to his uncle about recent events. After reciting all that had happened, he, in the dream, realized how much pain it was causing his uncle by the grimace on the older man’s face. After awakening with the image of his pained uncle fresh in his mind, Jaden fled the mercenary group, taking his belongings with him in a hurry. From that point, he wandered solely in the wilderness, wandering among the more untamed areas of the lands. It was here that he truly felt at home, in a place he didn’t have to worry about people, about those who just wanted to see others in pain. It was here he could heal, and finally grieve. He did heal, and he did mourn his uncle properly; but something more important happened to him while he was out here. He met a wandering elf by the name of Ruka; an untamed and cold warrior, someone he saw a bit of himself in; and realized he could help her, and she could help him. From that point, he traveled with the elf, being something of a best friend to her. They fought alongside each other, they slept in the same caves and they hunted together. They were free with each other, and that’s how it was for a long time. After years of this, Jaden slowly realized there were more things to life than to hunting and wandering for the rest of his half-elven lifespan, he had a yearning to almost settle down. It was like his heart was being torn in two, one from something instinctive in his, the thing in him screaming to find a place to call his own, and the other part of him that realized he would only ever be happy where he was right then and there. Jaden then broke away from Ruka after explaining to her what he needed to do; he needed to wander alone for a while to truly understand himself. He then grabbed his belongings and wandered out in the world, and found himself wandering among the populations of cities and other people; completely what he had said he was going to do. He found himself slowly growing close to a woman by the name of Idania; a woman whom he adored and found interesting. She was wild, and eccentric. They married each other after months of being something similiar to ‘hopelessly in love’, but with more of a realistic attitude of ‘we both love each other, so let’s enjoy this.’Idania knew Jaden’s past, and his constant identity crisis; something that was constantly plaguing him. She knew he was yearning to be wandering again; it wasn’t hard to see when he would constantly be looking out the windows at night, watching the stars above them in the black void. When he hesitantly told her what he needed to do; what he wanted to do, she agreed tearfully, telling him she’d be there for him when he got back. After packing his old things, and giving his wife a tearful goodbye, Jaden wandered back out in the wilderness, into the untamed, and began his search for Ruka. He needed to find her.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
With a soft hiss of leather against steel, Jaden would draw out his weapon that sat comfortably on a his belt. The rash and unexpected move would give the bandit a pause and think. Was this man mad, had a death wish or actually wanted to take on his two friends in the bushes next to him? Jaden would notice the momentary pause and pounce on it. He wanted to get out of this situation without bloodshed, and he’d scare the bandit into cooperating with him if he had to. With a millisecond to steel his own nerve, the dark-clad warrior would step forward slowly, blade pointing towards the ground, his deep voice speaking softly to the bandit in front of him. “I have nothing you want, but if you still intend to take what I
do have, then we have a problem.” The bandit would give him a slightly fearful look. He’s still not sure if this guy’s insane or not. He certainly looks wild, with his long hair falling in front of his eyes and the worn and tattered cloak making him seem to be some kind of a fugitive. “Don’t take another step! We’re all armed, and we don’t want to fight you over this!” Even to the bandit, whose panic was slowly increasing, his voice sounded slightly frightened. He cursed himself under his breath at his own fear and raised his dulled axe slowly. Jaden’s eyes narrow at the raised weapon, then pauses only feet from the other man, watching him closely. A silent stand off with their eyes as weapons, one set looking slightly fearful with the other betraying none of his emotions. The blade-wielder then breaks the stand off by darting forwards, blade suddenly raised and poised to attack. He of course, didn’t actually have any intention of attacking, only a ploy to scare the bandit, but he underestimated fear and survival instincts, as the bandit actually took it as a sign of violence and reacted properly; by slamming the blunt side of the axe against Jaden’s ribs. There would be a collective gasp from everyone involved; from the bandits watching their crazy friend take on the man, and the man whose ribs were just shown how close the muscle attached to them could actually get. Jaden coughs and stumbles to the side, then takes the bandit’s own surprise and hesitation at his movements to his advantage by darting around him, then slamming his elbow into the side of his head, wincing again at the pain of the elbow connecting the much, much thicker skull of the bandit. The bandit who had the uncanny luck of getting his head cracked by the blow gasps in pain and stumbles to his knees, one hand dropping the axe involuntarily and grasping his aching head, swearing loud enough a mother squirrel nearby covered her litter’s ears. The dark clad warrior then whirls around, and goes to roughly pull the bandit up, and slides the sword next to his throat; then presses the razor sharp edge against his exposed neck soft enough he got the understanding of what was happening. Jaden would move his mouth close to the bandit’s ear and speak just as softly before, his breathing hitching ever so slightly with the adrenaline flowing through his veins. “Now..I think we have an understanding then?” The bandit would only make a fearful and slight whimpering sound. This sound is good enough to satisfy the equally worried warrior holding his life on the line, apparently, as he’s shoved forward after the blade is withdrawn. The wild man then speaks to the rest of the bandits in hiding, not quite sure if they’re actually there, or just a bluff; but it’s never a bad idea to tie up loose ends. “Now.. Unless you want the same treatment as your friend, which isn’t a good thing considering I’ll be less than willing to show the same mercy to those who’ve been properly warned.. I suggest you let me pass.” With that, Jaden turns to continue walking down the pass, the bandits rushing out to help their fallen comrade, but leaving the wild man to his wanderings.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
With something bordering amusement and false irritation, Jaden clears his face of emotion so he can play his part properly. He gives the drunken man a withering glare, and stares straight at the raised hand in front of him. It was another silent standoff, with the drunkard’s hand still raised and Jaden’s eyes shooting daggers at said hand, almost as if he was trying to sever it with pure mental power. It, of course, fails horribly but makes the drunkard slightly uncomfortable. This standoff would continue for a good few minutes before the drunkard loses his balance where he stood, tripping over a vacant chair and landing on the top of his back with a grunt and soft groan. It would be quite comical to anyone who wasn’t nearby; and near the almost potential fight.
Jaden’s amused look returns with the absence of the drunken man’s watchful eyes, and he steps up and gives the other patrons who’re watching a wink, then replaces his amused look with one that appears to be silent fury; grasping the drunken man’s shirt and pulling him up none too roughly. After the initial surprise by the man-who-drank-far-too-much, Jaden shoves his face close to his, their noses almost touching. He gives the man only a moment to think of what’s happening before he speaks. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? I’m a gentle man, believe me, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Next time you decide to someone off, do it where others won’t be hurt by your drunken mistakes. I could have been a murderer for all you know.. Or I still could be.” With that, Jaden shoves the drunken man down into another vacant chair, then silently turns and walks out of the tavern. He wasn’t interested in drinking tonight anyway.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
Jaden eyes the trinket with a sense of longing. That necklace is something Idania would like, or at least appreciate. When his eyes flicker over to the price noted on the sign his heart falters slightly. That was what
he was worth, or at least what he was probably worth. With a slight hiss of breath as he sighed, he eyes the merchant with carefully calculating eyes. After a moment, he’d speak with the same soft voice as he always tries to. “What would make you lower the price on that?” The merchant’s eyes light up with glee as he realizes he’s got a desperate buyer in front of him. The best kind of buyer. “What’re you willing to give me.. Or what’re you willing to do?” His patrician features and eyes slide over Jaden’s defined form which is still obvious despite his cloak. They both knew Jaden had one thing to offer; his skill. Without waiting for Jaden to answer, the merchant speaks again, pouncing on what he knew about his customer. “I’ve got a job for you, if you desire? I can see you’re a fighter..” The merchant’s eyes flicker to the weapon on Jaden’s waist, and a slow grin begins to form. Oh yes, this man is perfect for what he needs, for what he’s needed for the past few days. Jaden’s voice grows dark and is filled with promises of pain if this goes the wrong way for both of them. “What do you want, merchant? I’m not going to do your dirty work or call on any unpaid debts. I’m sure with these prices you’ve got plenty of people who can’t afford your wares.” The merchant’s grin dies instantly at the words Jaden dared to utter. His voice is also now filled with something darker, a promising of something worse than pain. “I’m not a criminal or lowlife. No, what you’re speaking of is something a criminal would do, what a cutthroat would try to hire muscle for. I want you to do some good with your skill. I’ve funded the city guard off to the side for years now, but they still have not tracked down the criminals who stole my goods when I very well know where they are!” Without waiting for Jaden to speak, the merchant gave him his request. “I want you to go to the warehouse near the docks and retrieve a small crate. There shouldn’t be that many, and the bandits would have kept it close to where ever they’re hiding. If you do this for me, the necklace is yours.” Jaden took a moment to consider the request. He would be doing good for the city.. And getting his sweet Idania something. His choice was obvious to even himself, but he still had to make sure. “And these are for sure criminals?” The merchant nods slowly, drawing out three wanted posters. Jaden’s eyes narrowed dangerously at one of them. He recognized that man, he had even elbowed him in the back of the head at one point. The merchant man recognized the look, then narrowed his own eyes dangerously at Jaden. “You know them?” Jaden’s voice held the same promise of danger it had previously, and his voice hitched with faint anger. “Yes.. I met them on the road sometime ago.. I’ll get you your missing goods back, don’t worry..” With that being said, Jaden whirled around and then began to slowly move through the crowds that were moving between the stalls and various vendors, moving towards the large warehouse. There he looked over the warehouse with observant eyes, then saw a small, open window on the second floor. Next to the window was a house’s roof. He gave a small chuckle then walked over to the house and began to slowly ascend up its wall, using various beams and other poorly designed structural designs as hold; eventually reaching the roof where he spins around to face the window across the alley that separated the warehouse and the house. With a sigh and small moment to close his eyes and steel his nerves once more, Jaden takes a running leap across the alley and slams against the wall, his pelvis hitting the window ledge. He desperately grasps at the sides of the windows, and after getting some grip on them, he slowly slides himself into a sitting position on the window still. Jaden looks around the open warehouse before him, looking for any sign of the bandits, his insides burning with something close to anger, but a bit of disappointment too. He’d hoped that his meeting with these three would have at least scared them into some honest work. After a few minutes of silent observation, of listening and watching, he finds nothing, and not wanting to disappoint the merchant, he drops from the window still onto a small platform that circles all the way around the warehouse. giving it an almost ‘barnish’ appearance. He lands with a soft thud, certainly audible to anyone inside of the warehouse, and then starts to move towards what appears to be a small office, where trade manifests and contracts are kept. He unsurprisingly finds the door busted open with the door lock laying in the doorway in a small collecting of splinters of wood. After a quick search of the office, he finds the bandit’s belongings, left laying there as they go to pillage or look for other victims. With an angry grunt, Jaden kneels down and tears open the bag, revealing a small box and a collection of coins. He stares down at the contents, and after removing the box he flings the bag across the room, letting the coins spray across the room in a hailstorm of clattering and golden rain. He looks around, and after spotting a pen quill and a piece of parchment, he writes the bandits a note promising pain and more suffering if they dare to keep this up, and he promises to find them if they try to run or continue with this lifestyle. He then pulls a dagger from his boot and stabs the note against a wall, pinning it there; and with that, Jaden leaves the warehouse through the front entrance, and goes to collect his due.
Minecraft username: Webemperor
What is your age: 23
What is your timezone: GMT +2
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Minecraft, Garry's Mod and tabletop games.
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes.
What is the rule you agree with the most?: No magic. MAGIC SUCKS. Also it causes too much stupid RP most of the time.
How did you find the server?: From a friend.
Why should you be whitelisted?: The main question is, why shouldn't I?
Define powergaming: Forcing people to something they dont want to, mostly inform of doing impossible things to another character without giving them a chance to respond.
Define metagaming: Using OOC info IC.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: Orb of Darkness.
Who are the Jarr?: Darkelves from a desert-like land.
IC
Character Name: Krass
Character Age: 25
Character Gender: Male
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): A long, slender man with a blue leather armor. He has a short black hair and green eyes.
Character Personality (How your character acts): A stubborn, intimidating and somewhat charismatic swordsman, Krass' is a self-proclaimed tactical genius. Even though he is gifted on
these things, Krass is very stubborn, and somewhat fears females. He underestimates his opponents, causing his tactical efficieny to drop most of the times. He always takes pleasure from duels
and fights, but he despises on needed violence and bloodshed, finding it dishonorable and disgusting.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths):
Strenghts:
-Excellent Swordsman: Left purposeless, Krass spent most of his time honing his art. He considers himself to be an excellent swordsman.
-Quick wits: Krass can find easy solutions to most problems, even though these solutions may not be permanent or good at all.
-Coup d'ceil: Krass can find tactical advantages and disadvantages a terrain or a battlefield can offer very easily. This lets him win most of his outdoor fights, using a tree, a nearby stone
or a hill.
-Can play a flute: The Trader that took Krass in also thought him how to play a flute. He thought him this as a way to control his anger and calm his mind.
Weaknesses:
-Womens: Krass tends to avoid females most of the time.
-Stubborn: Krass is quite arrogant, and wont change his mind unless proven heavily wrong.
-Dislikes spending too much money: Krass doesn't tend to spend his precious money on things he should or should not have, even though they may save his life.
-Underestimating: Krass tends to underestimate his opponents. Even though he tends to be victorious, this trait of his caused him to lose money on duels, or get unneccessary wounds.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Krass was born in The Slums. He was abandoned by his parents at an early age of 2, since then he forgot both their names and faces. As a child he wandered the streets to find wood and such
things to shape those things into a sword, so he can practice and one day leave The Slums. When he was 6, a trader took him in, fed him in exchange for him to bring him values things and
odds and ends throughour The Slums. The Trader knew how to use swords very well, that way he protected his shop from criminals and robbers. Unfortunately, he was losing his skill, trader
thought Krass how to use swords properly, so that he can guard the shop for the trader. Krass quickly learned how to master a sword when he was 12, defending the shop for the trader.
Until he was 18, not much happened in Krass' life. He defended the shop and perfected his art in his freetime. When he was 18, Trader was killed by a girl in a side-alley while Krass was
not paying attention. Girl was young, but was probably working for the local crimelords. This shocked Krass, as until that point, most women he met was somewhat kind. He cut down the girl
but this didn't saved trader's life. He later learned that crimelord was targetting trader and Krass. His men soon catched up to him in trader's house one night. Krass used the old house in
his advantage, trapping the men inside, then destroying the house by cutting key points in the building. This allowed him to escape, then outsmart several other gang members by using
the alleyways of his childhood to his advantage to defeat the men with his sword.
Crimelord soon catched him, but he was impressed by Krass' skills, so he gave two choices to Krass, to help
him, or die on the spot. Krass accepted his offer and joined him, while promising to take trader's revenge one day. For two years, Krass aided the Crimelord to become one of the most influental
people on the Slums. But Krass remembered his promise. He murdered crimelord while he was taking a bath, and hanged his dead naked body from atop of his house as a revenge. He then left The Slums
quickly after. He roamed the land with the extreme money he stole from the crimelord, while usually helping a lost caravan or village if needed and paid, while honing his art of blade and flute.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
It took sometime for Krass to realize that what he was facing was a bandit. He was on this road for a few days now, with a 1 or 2 hours of sleep at max. "Are you even listening?" shouted bandit. "A robbery is it not?" said Krass
sarcastically. "Oh look, we have a smartass here people!" said bandit, looking to bushed nearby, possibly meaning he has people nearby. "Empty your pockets!" shouted the bandit. Krass quickly looked around. He found 2 bushed that
looked occupied. He also saw a deep point in the road that he may lead the bandit into in a possible duel. "I dont really value my life. But I know alot. I know about nearby ruins that have tons of golds in them with teasure chests!"
Bandit looked in a glimpse of excitement: "Tell us than, in exchange for you life.". Krass looked at the bandit: "I wish a death in a duel. If you beat me one on one, I'll tell you about it all.". After thinking for sometime, Bandit
agreed and they attacked each other. With a few quick moves, Krass led bandit into that deep point, where bandit lost his balance. Krass took his change and slashed the bandit quickly. He quickly then lifted bandit's dead body and
blocked incoming arrows from the bush. He charged at the archer before he can shoot more. Archer fell easily, and when he turned his back, he saw another bandit charging at him. When he was about to slash this one too, he realized something:
It was a woman. Krass hesitated for a moment, causing him to get wounded minimally, as he quickly regained his attention and backed off. He later kicked the woman, taking advantage from her small body but big waraxe. He then stabbed her.
Even though his wound annoyed and hurt him for the rest of his road, he compensated it with the bandages and well-made knife he found on the dead woman.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Krass doesn't pay attention to the drunk man, as he doesn't want unneccessary fight in someplace he certainly doesn't care about. Man leaves the bar angrily while throwing several insults at him.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
When Krass finally reached a nearby town, he first tried to find a new knife for hunting, even though he would prefer not to. He found a sharp knife made of steel, making it shine and easy to find in dark. He asked shopkeeper about the price.
Shopkeeper answered with a amount far from his reach. He told the shopkeeper that no one will buy this knife for his price. Shopkeeper refused to change his price. Krass, furiously left the shop. Later, for 4 days, he waited near the shop.
After the entire 4 days, no one bought the knife. He then returned to the shopkeeper. After another set of argument, shopkeeper said "Screw it" and sold the knife to Krass for a cheaper price.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
1/20/2014
Posts:
42
Member Details
OOC
Minecraft username: Quatral What is your age: 15 What is your timezone: Pacific Standard Time What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Across various servers, 7 months of RP experience in all Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes What is the rule you agree with the most?: The necessity of an Evils Application How did you find the server?: I was informed on its existence by a friend of mine. Why should you be whitelisted?: I believe I can roleplay decently and contribute well to the community in a positive manner.
Define powergaming: When someone forces an action without the victim's ability to react or defend properly. Define metagaming: To use out of character information in a roleplay situation or to enhance knowledge in roleplay. Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'Arco Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: The orb found in a quest to fulfill the dying King Ganrik's last wishes drove the next king and the Dwarven people to madness and violence. Who are the Jarr?: A desert dwelling, dark skinned Elven people.
IC
Character Name: Mortimer Graves Character Age: 31 Character Gender: Male Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): Pale skin with an unhealthy grey tint, sallow cheeks with gaunt facial bones and sunken eyes. Yellowed teeth and a stump to a tongue are within the mouth. Atop his head is a curly and unruly head of ratty dark brown hair. A black woolen mantle and hood hang over the shoulders, atop a black cloth tunic. Grey patchwork leggings and worn brown leather shoes below the torso. Standing at 6' 3" full of height, he hunches over to stand a lowly 5' 10" on a regular basis. Due to his ascetic nature, he weighs a mere 140 pounds and is physically frail compared to the average male of his age. Character Personality (How your character acts): Often wishing to be alone, reclusive in nature. Mortimer is paranoid of armed people and timid in the presence of crowd and public places. Communicating with basic grunts and hand signals, Mortimer has self-consciously lowered his thinking upon his own status, possessing a deep inferiority complex. He possesses a great love for the dead, an affinity for the deceased and what lies beyond his own meager life a fascinating concept to Mortimer. In reaction to others, in the rare occasion of public display and sociability, Mortimer holds a personal moral standard that is high in regards to alcohol, substances, sexuality, and hedonistic desires. Due to this, Mortimer will often fly into bestial rages at others breaking from his almost pious moral values, this double standard not breaking his strong belief in the morals restraining hedonism. Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths): As a thinner and lithe man, Mortimer is very capable to manuver crowds, swiftly traveling on light feet. The counterpart side of this being Mortimer's ungainly height, in his hunch, he is often awkward in navigating cramped area's and places requiring to keep low of head. As Mortimer is commonly more at home in the dark, he is very capable of quietly and swiftly moving about at night and in dim places. The parallel of this being at day, and in places of greater light, he is often not as perceptive and easily subdued or outmaneuvered in the brightness of day. Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Born to the Graves family in an obscure and generally nameless village not far from Wetrock, Mortimer was a reclusive child. From an early age, he was kept from others as his parents sought to make him a “respectable young man”. To achieve this, their methods were beating, hours of being locked in closets, and ranting at mistakes of things said beyond what they considered well to do. As he grew up, Mortimer had gotten used to and steadily accustomed to the lack of others, and his parent’s explanation of their reclusion. His lonely lifestyle and upbringing would greatly affect his life in the future, and adulthood. To cope with his friendless childhood and bizarre upbringing, Mortimer would often pretend to himself he could talk to the dead, becoming so enveloped with the conversations in his head to an extent of insanity. With his infatuation in regard to the deceased, he preferred the dark, to offer the illusion of shelter from the trauma and abusive parents in his childhood. On his 11th birthday, Mortimer received his first present. Tearing at the small box, he found within a complete albeit small skeleton of a rat. For the first time in his life he felt what could be almost called joy. The unexpected and rare of act of kindness on the part of his parents would not happen again in their lifetimes.
The climax of this punishment and abusive childhood, Mortimer did what his parents considered the final straw. Wishing to go and finally leave the home he had been locked up in for 19 years, Mortimer escaped the confines of his parent’s decrepit home. Travelling to Wetrock, the extraordinarily unsociable and entirely isolated Mortimer was in awe and shock at the sight of this comparably metropolitan setting. Awkward as he was, Mortimer found a great enjoyment and went about the town all day until sundown. During the day, he met a trader, awkwardly approaching him he asked about any graveyards about. Using the strict puritan-esque mannerisms of his parents, he swiftly found the way to a worn old gravesite. Spending the rest of the day there by the site, he enacted all the conversations of his childhood, talking to himself as if the dead were awake in his mind. As the day bled on, he found an onlooker watching him. Frightened by the figure, he sought to flee, only to be pursued. Followed by the unknown figure he reached the outskirts of the small town, turning to face the one who followed him. Seeing no one he would conclude that, it was the dead who were with him. This conviction in mind he would carry it to the grave, forever putting great superstition on the deceased and those that have passed, being about still. Eventually the sun sank and, dreading what his parents would do, but expecting it with a newfound confidence, Mortimer returned home.
The eventual trek back brought him, at last, to the old cottage of his parents. Walking up the steps his heart pumped in a mixture of excitement and fear he had never experienced before. Entering the old rickety structure his parents were sitting by the door, expressions of absolute coldness obvious in their demeanor. In his slow and somber approach, his mother rose to strike him across the face. Without a word, his father followed suit, standing to help her hold him down. Used to the treatment, Mortimer stayed still, expecting the usual beating and harassment. It was until his father had left him with his mother and returned with a jagged chicken knife, did he realize the danger he faced. Beginning to truly struggle, Mortimer saw his late efforts were futile. His father raised his mouth to him, his mother tearing it open and presenting a thrashing tongue. Biting and weakly attempting to fight back, his father cut across the tongue. The superficial laceration only caused Mortimer to let out a hoarse shriek, his father persisting, slowly sawing the writhing tongue from his mouth. Weakened and in agony, Mortimer fell to the floor, his tongue dropping next to him. Waking from unconsciousness of the event with a merciful amount of clothe stuffed around the stub of his tongue he tore it out in a panic. Looking around in the pitch black room, Mortimer saw he was locked in a closet, his tongue chopped out at the base. Pondering his choice, and the actions of his parents, he lay in the closet for days. He awoke on the 2nd day, with a pang of hunger in his stomach and a wracking headache. Slamming about the room for a time he could not tell he eventually shattered the fragile door. Slumping into the hall he found his way to his parents’ bedroom, they were not awoken by his commotion. He tore about for the knife they kept nearby. The event that took place next would spell the death of his parents, their mutilation and execution far eclipsing the wrongs of their punishments. Finally leaving the home for good, Mortimer left not the obedient child as he was raised, but the paranoid and reclusive man he had become.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
Mortimer walks slowly down the road, looking around him and to the brush as he hunches down, plodding at a steady pace.
A Bandit leaps from the forested brush, baring a short sword and a swift ultimatum, "I want all your valuables, your trinkets, everything you got. There hell of a' lot more than me if there's trouble, you can be damn sure!" Mortimer perks his eyes up suddenly to meet the mans malicious grin with a nervous glare, fiddling for his pouch of currency, grunting lowly as he does so.
Eying Mortimer's motions, the Bandit scans the lanky and frail man, rubbing the palm of his hand over the sword grip.
Nodding to himself slowly, Mortimer presents a small pouch, the bandit moving closer, reaches for it.
As the bandit grips the pouch he stands, opening it, only to reveal a small rotting pile of bones, maggots, and what might once been food.
Stepping back, the bandit drops the pouch in disgust, Mortimer stepping forth to draw a thing rusty knife from the confines of his tunic. With a swift motion, he slams the point home into the gut of the startled and unprepared man. As the man chokes on blood within his lungs, Mortimer steps back, hearing the cries of the dead man's compatriots scrambling from the brush. Hearing the thud of throwing weapons and the twang of bows, Mortimer shrieks as a bow passes through his side, leaving a heavy bleeding gash. Limping and hobbling in a run, Mortimer groans and cries out in pain as the blood flow is hardly tempered by his clutching hands. Eventually reaching a point where pursuit has stopped, Mortimer sets to tearing his clothes in makeshift bandages until civilization can be reached.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
Mortimer sips nervously at his drink, wondering exactly what he had ordered. The Drunk bumps into Mortimer, decrying in a slur, "Watch where yer' goin' ya' stupid *******." Taken aback, he nervously grunts an apology, fumbling for his hood as he navigates the crowd to the door The drunk pursues, crying out after, slurring in his stumbling approach, "I... eh... me, I demand an' 'pology!" Warily looking back at the drunk, Mortimer breaks to the door through the tables to the exit, running at full tilt down the street with the patter of his soft leather shoes. The drunk, in pursuit, stumbles to the door, looking out only to see a dark-clad figure turn into an alleyway.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
Looking over the stall items, Mortimer looks back to the merchant with a dull glare. The merchant returns a wide and cheery showman's grin, nodding as he begins to persist to the man about his wares, "You see these are very fine, won't find any others like it, I am sure." Mortimer looks between the man and the item, a small wooden box of no particular interesting features.
"Oh you'll find it most useful to keep things in, now would you care to buy it?", the merchant asks in a cheery tone, grinning at the man. Mortimer shrugs his hunched shoulders, nodding slowly, reaching for his coin pouch. The merchant goes on to say, "That'd be worth far more than whatever you have in that small thing friend". Mortimer finishes drawing forth the pouch in an air of purposeful lethargy, pulling it open to reveal some tarnished coins and a few rotted food bits. The merchant scowls, "Now friend, come now, get back here with some real money, if you ever leave to see as much as this is worth", grinning he pats the box. Mortimer raises himself to full height, shrugging his shoulders to relax and loosen, standing tall he looks down at the comparably shorter and somewhat chubby man. Grunting he extends the coin purse, a dull disinterested glare on his face. Not one to lose his ground, the merchant persists, "Look I won't fall for any bully boy behavior, come back with the money or don't come back". A deep-set frown upon Mortimer's face, he nods slowly, retracting the hand in the same manner of paced slowness. Giving up he turns his back, resuming his low slouch as he seemingly glides across the cobbled road to the nearest alleyway, Mortimer's form sifting back into the backdrop of the town.
Minecraft username: DragonFury2020
What is your age: 16
What is your timezone: GMT +2 - South Africa
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Almost 2 years of roleplay experience.
Have you read and accepted the rules?: Indeed I have and I agree
What is the rule you agree with the most?: Respect your fellow players and the staff of the server. I believe if you respect the player and he/she respects you they will be in a better mood and the roleplay will be more exciting and interesting.
How did you find the server?: From my good friend TheFireAce
Why should you be whitelisted?: I am a kind and honest person and obey the rules, if I ever stepped out of line by mistake I would suffer/take the punishment. I have been roleplaying for almost 2 years and I really enjoy it but recently the servers have not been too good or are unorganized and the players not really cooperating. I would like to be whitelisted because I believe this is a fresh start to have fun and meet new people as well learn new things. I hope my application is what you are looking for and that I will be apart of this wondeful community.
Define powergaming: Powergaming is when one uses God like actions or doing something that your character is unable to do. It is meaning your opponent cannot stop or have a chance to dodge your attack, leaving unfair roleplay.
Define metagaming: Metagaming is when one uses OOC information in character to have an advantage or benefit your character. This makes IC surprises no fun and could ruin future RP's.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D’Arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: An orb of great horror and destruction was discovered and their King Ganrik told his loving brethren to hide the orb and never let it fall into the wrong hands but they did not heed his warning. The new King commanded for the orb to be brought to him and eventually he was driven mad and the rest of the dwarfs followed until eventually they started slaughtering one another and lead to the destruction of the dwarven Kingdom.
Who are the Jarr?: The Jarr were a race of dark skinned elves who lived in the deserts. A plague destroyed their homes and forced them to live in Redania.
IC
Character Name: Kildarien Wolfblood
Character Age: 19
Character Gender: Male
Character Race: Human
Character Appearance:
-Height: 5'7
-Hair Color: Brown Hair
-Eye Color: Brown Eyes
-Body Type: Good Build
-Skin Color: White
Character Personality: "If you plan to attack my friends then you will have to get through me first."
Character Strengths/Weaknesses:
Strengths: Kildarien is focused, Resolute, and always ready for anything, he can adapt to situations quickly.
Weaknesses: Has a soft spot for friends and if they are taken hostage he freezes up
Character Biography:
[Childhood]
Kildarien was 1st born of Zio and Reyna Wolfblood, he was born on the 21st Moon of Suin. He was born into the village of Zarko his father was the leader of this village. When he was 2 years of age his sister Elaria was born and when he was 4 years of age his sister Selana was born. Kildarien was taught at the age of 10 how to use twin Shamshirs, Knives and a Bow. He trained everyday and went hunting with his father to bring home food and practice.
[Teenager]
It was a dark and cold night the sun had set and the moon had rised. It was a month after Kildarien's 14 birthday. Some bandits raided the village. Kildarien awoke to screams he jumped out of bed grabbing his swords and putting them on his side and grabbing his longbow with an arrow notched. He ran outside and fired the arrow at the first bandit he saw, then swang his bow on his back and unsheathed his Twin Shamshirs. He fought long and he fought hard but eventually got hit over the head and fell to the ground his two sisters were sitting next to his body screaming his name and begging for help, he watched his home burn and hearing faint screams and then nothing. He awoke the next morning, outside and sat up. Kildarien looked around, he saw burnt houses, dead bodies, people crying but he did not see his family. Kildarien picked up his swords and sheathed them and gathered his things and headed out to find his family.
[Adulthood]
Kildarien still has no luck in finding his family and now instead he has decided to settle down in a new home and be at peace. Start a new life for himself and try to forget what has happened to him in the past. A new day, a new life and a new beginning.
[Recent Events]
(Will post some when we actually RP)
Scenarios
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess. What do you do?
Kildarien looks to the bandit and raises an eyebrow "Why do they then hide in the bushes?"
Bandit looks around then back to Kildarien "Just drop your valuables and walk away"
Kildarien nods, putting down his Twin Shamshirs, Longbow and his food and water and turns to walk off
Bandit walks forward towards Kildarien's valuables
Kildarien reaches into his cloak pulling out a throwing knife and turns to the bandit and smirks
Bandit has his hands full with weapons and food, then looks to Kildarien
Kildarien chuckles softly "Drop all your valuables if you value your life"
Bandit drops the various things and turns to run
Kildarien attempts to throw the knife for his back, hitting the man in the right leg, causing him to fall over
Bandit shouts in pain "You! Will pay!"
Kildarien goes to pick up his things and walks to the bandit, taking an arrow out his quiver
Bandit tries to crawl away, still in pain
Kildarien goes to step down hard on the knives in his leg, causing them to go deeper into his skin and making the pain even worse
Bandit screams in pain, tears rushing down his cheeks "P-Please sir, I-I have a wife and family. I just needed to get something to trade"
Kildarien sighs and puts the arrow back in his quiver "Then ask nicely" he gives the man some coins and some food and walks off, leaving him on the side of the road
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going. What do you do?
Kildarien simply nods "Sorry sir"
The Drunk Man "You'd better be sorry or I'd teach you a lesson lad"
Kildarien turns to the man and smiles "No lesson is needed sir"
The Drunk Man nods and stumbles back to his chair
Kildarien smirks and walks to the counter to order a drink
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price. What do you do?
Kildarien raises an eyebrow "And you say these are good deals?"
Stall Owner nods "Of course, finest ware around and good prices too"
Kildarien sighs "The ware is decent but the prices are unbelievable"
Stall Owner "Do you have a family to take care of? No, so the price is that and it will stay that"
Kildarien glares at the man coldly "Do not bring family into this, do not try to hide behind your family for your own selfish desires. You are greedy and better treat your family and customers more politely and you will see me more then necessary."
Stall Owner looks at him fearfully "I-I um"
Kildarien nods "Good day to you sir" he turns and walks off
I see what you mean, I'm just used to playing adult characters :P. Edited
Hopefully I can get that RP Mod position too! ^.^
I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. We're hard at working fixing the issues which persist. We've taken your application into consideration, and we're going to withhold judgement until we get to know you a little better.
Evils Application:
Minecraft Name:
Agurka200
Character Name:
Crowell Black, but his pseudo is Blackbane.
Are you aware that having an accepted Evils application does not make you above any of the rules, particularly powergaming and realistic roleplay?:
Of course it doesn't. Having an evil character will only allow me to do things IC. The rules that confine everyone still apply for me.
Clearly define the abilities/traits you are applying for and explain why you need them:
Blackbane is a mercenary and a sellsword, as such, he would of course need to be able to kill people that he's paid to. He is currently working on starting a mercenary operation with two other persons on the server, although the two persons would be the leaders, and he'd be operating by their command. He has also made some enemies in Kurgan's Hold, that he intends to harm. The main reason I need an EA is to kill unprovoked.
Describe your character’s personality:
Crowell often plays dumb, but is in fact rather bright when it comes to strategy, and plans of attack. He's often in a good mood, particularly when humming or whistling. He suffers from paranoia.
What are your character's strengths/weaknesses?:
While he is strong, tall, and muscular, Crowell fights in rather a brutal and unskilled fashion. For example, Crowell swings his sword high, and would try bringing it across John's stomach.'"Doing such would give John the opportunity to make a more skilled attack, possibly even rewarding Crowell with a fatal wound. Crowell is a great liar and good at swordfighting, shooting from bows, and at throwing small daggers. But he has many weaknesses.He rarely uses common sense, getting angry easily and arguing over the tiniest things that annoy him. As well as this, Crowell is very envious of those with more wealth than he.
What will your character do on a daily basis?:
Crowell is trying to help form a guild, along with two others. Until the purchase of a guild-house, he'll usually be looking for work, or doing any tasks he has in order to get any arcos he can. After such a purchase has been made, he'll likely spend some time getting it ready for use. After such a grand task has been managed, he'll probably rest in the inn, train his sword-skills, and make pleasant strolls whenever he's not wrapped up in guild business.
What moral boundaries does your character have, if any?:
He is a mercenary, short and sweet. While this is the case, he doesn't kill people that he's not being paid for, or haven't attacked him to begin with. As well as this, he's not fond of having to kill animals, children, or old people. If another sellsword gets in the way, he'll be forced to either take him out, or come to a deal. Due to his short temper, though, it often results in the former.
Please provide your character’s biography:
Ages 0 - 9:
Crowell grew up with his father, since his mother left them when Crowell was only 3. His father was a drunk, and there was not alot of food on the table. Crowell did nothing as he grew up. He didn't have any friends, since they lived in a tent, and often moved from places where he'd make friends. His father then left Crowell with another woman they found at an Inn at Kurgan's Hold. Crowell was left alone, with a tent, and very little food, only 8 years old. It is then that a man named 'Jaskr' found him whilst travelling on the roads, with a rolled up tent on his back. Jaskr offered Crowell food, and by the looks of it, was very rich. Jaskr offered to take Crowell into custody, and let him live at his house in Kurgan's Hold, the capitol of Redania. Crowell accepted, and went with the man. Jaskr was a lonely man, and spent the majority of time playing board games. At 9 years old, Crowell began to steal from Jaskr, small jewels and little sums of money. When he had enough arcos, he bought a sword fitting his height and weight. Jaskr asked how he got it, and Crowell told him he found it. Jaskr believed him, ignoring the failed attempt at lying.
Ages 10 - 19:
At the age of 13, he had enough of the capitol, and stole a decent amount of food, some warm clothing, and a bedroll from Jaskr's house. He walked out of the house, whilst singing a song, in a cheery mood. Whilst growing up, Crowell would often have to resort to pickpocketing to feed himself. While he wasn't the best, and often got caught, it taught him a few valuable lessons about being a thief. At the same time as this, he would also train swordfighting, and his aim with a bow. Little did he realise that the stronger and heavier-handed he got, the easier it would be for people to notice him picking their pockets. Crowell was young, back then. Young and ignorant.
Ages 20 - 29:
At the age of twenty-one, Crowell realised that pickpocketing wouldn't be the best career to support him in the long run. He started to organise little children to do it for him, and would take what they stole, and use small portions to buy treats for them. He was proud of this, but knew it wouldn't last. There would never be an unending supply of children. He eventually turned to larger pockets of crime, and joined a small time criminal guild, and had a dark blue tattoo on his shoulder to prove it. While in his later years, he would learn to regret this, at the time he was over the moon. And this would be his downfall.
After a bloody fight in a bar, Crowell was taken back to a pharmacy, and had his shirt removed to be treated. A guard present recognised the tattoo, and decided that the best course of action would be to arrest him. In Crowell's injured state, he could do little to resist, and spent the night in agony in a cell. He requested an audience with the king, but no-one would hear him. He served two years of his life there, and risks doing more now if anyone were to see what he had initially thought a harmless tattoo
Crowell came out of prison, wanting to start something that wouldn't be busted instantly. He decided to purchase a small fishing stall, where he would sell fish and intoxicating things. He'd also scam people, selling both the fish and drugs at a very high price. Sooner or later, someone employed by Crowell squeeled, and he had to leave the city to not be arrested again.
Ages 30 - 39:
Angry and dumb, he had the idea to start a mercenary pack named Wardogs. He met two dwarfven twins, Dilan and Filan, and they started stealing from innocent folks on the countryside. Sooner or later, he found another lad named Jack, that had two wolves. Crowell decided to manipulate Jack, since the boy was stupid and easy to control. He made him go into the capitol every month and ordered him to steal weapons from the local smithery. Jack was never busted, since he was light on his feet, and could blend in easily. Crowell then started to sell his sword, along with his comrades. They were often ordered to slay petty thieves and thugs, that had done small evil deeds. They got alot of coin for that, and bought supplies to have a travelling camp, along with two direwolves.
Soon they met a teenager, alone in the woods, and decided he'd be the new errand boy. They gave him one of the wolves, and made him go to Kurgan's Hold everyday to steal food, clothing and small weapons. Then, the boy left the group after 10 years, and wanted to redeem himself somewhere in the capitol. Crowell was left with Dilan and Filan, since Jack left a few days after the boy. Then the three separated, and Crowell saw no other choice but to go back to the capitol, wearing black, dusty rags, trying to give himself a mysterious and possibly threatening air, so as people wouldn't approach and ask who he was.
OOC
Minecraft username: Crystik_Rage
What is your age: 17
What is your timezone: Central
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Overall seven years, though my youth was much less than acceptable quality. Multiple minecraft RP servers, forum RPing, and RPing over other formats.
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: I have.
What is the rule you agree with the most?: How do I agree with a rule the most...? I supposed if I had to name one, I would pick the staying in IC rule.
How did you find the server?: Just browsing along in my boredom, looking for a good server.
Why should you be whitelisted?: Because I'd like to join it to RP...? Should I have some deep, elaborate reason?
Define powergaming: Forcing someone, or something, to do things that they don't want to do.
Define metagaming: Using information that your character simply wouldn't have in character. Like somehow knowing about a hidden stash, because you were told via skype.
Who was the first king of Redania?: King Althan?
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: An Orb of Darkness, correct?
Who are the Jarr?: Darkskinned Elfs
IC
Character Name: Cruros Carter
Character Age: 25
Character Gender: Male
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): Relatively muscular, though not to the point of being inhibiting. Holds no facial hair, but could be considered handsome by some.
Character Personality (How your character acts): He can be rather curious, against his own good, but tries to stay out of things that he knows could bring him harm, if he can avoid it.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths): Cruros is a skilled swordsman, and fairly acrobatic. He's knowledgable in metals and how to retrieve them from the earth, and how to smith them to his will. He is a terrible farmer, however, and was never known for his skill in archery. He can be brash at times, and far too willing to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events): Cruros grew up on a small farmstead, destined to lead a boring life of sustenance farming for himself, as his family had for generations. That was, until it was discovered just how lacking in the art of the plow he was. No matter how much his father tried to teach him, no matter how many long, painstaking hours Cruros spent in the fields, the only thing that grew were his muscles. He never truly gained the touch to bring life to a field, the ability to make the seeds sprout into something greater.
Instead, he was saved from this life instead by a mine opening up in the area. Cruros went to work in it, using the muscles he'd formed from years of being forced to work the fields to great advantage. In the process, he angered his family, though they accepted his decision in the end. He was still making a living for himself, afterall, their family line would still continue. Eventually, the mine expanded into a cave, and creatures of the deep were released. It was there, during his work, that Cruros gained his ability to fight. The miners were equipped to defend themselves, unable to hire security, but the metals they retrieved were simply too valuable to abandon.
Often times, Cruros would have to abandon his work to fend off one attack or another, and eventually, he took his gathered skills and quit the job, now exploring the world instead.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Cruros hadn't been paying much attention when the man had leaped out before him. His hand immediately went to a well worn blade at his side, as he remembered the many times similar scenarios happened to him. He'd grown wise enough to the world to know, however, that this man was almost certainly bluffing.
A man with allies wouldn't simply jump out and reveal himself, and themselves. No, they would use their numbers, intimidate him, make sure he knew what he was dealing with. As it stood, Cruros doubted that there was another man, besides them, within the next thousand feet. "How about you turn around, and leave, if you value your life."
The bandit was shocked at the sheer challenge presented to him. 'This punk doesn't know who he's messing with... I can take him down alone...' The bandit charged him, swinging a large axe with abandon. Cruros easily sidestepped the swing, pulling his blade out in the process to cut a wide gash in the mans back as he passed by. The bandit cried out in pain, as he turned around, fury clear in his eyes now. Again he charged, and Cruros met him head on, blocking the overhead swing completely, twisting his blade to catch the blade of the axe, and easily disarming the man.
Before he could react to his axe being ripped from his hands, Cruros turned his blade and shoved it through his chest. "I did warn you..." The man only gasped out as his blood leaked out from the wound, his limbs slackening as he slid off the blade, collapsing to the road lifelessly. After cleaning off his sword, Cruros continued on his way, sighing at the idiocy of some people.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
His most recent venture into the earth had been profitable. A dungeon had been discovered and cleared out, Cruros taking away the prize of money and other assorted items, and had decided to celebrate in a tavern. The man who stumbled into him brought a sigh of annoyance, though his words brought more.
"I'm the one sitting down. How about you watch your step." He wasn't in the mood for this, not so soon after his own success. He wanted to celebrate the night with a few drinks and a delicious meal, and that was being ruined by the worlds never ending supply of idiots.
"What'd you shay to me?" The drunken man glared at him, clearly not pleased with his response. Another sigh, before Cruros turned in his stool to look at the man. He hadn't even drawn himself to his full height, and he knew he was larger than the man, by atleast a few inches.
"If you're looking for violence, than continue insulting me. Otherwise, leave. I don't have the patience to deal with you." Clearly, the drunkard hadn't been expecting so... Aggressive a response, and eventually decided that it wasn't worth it, walking off, grumbling about one thing or another, as Cruros let out a final sigh and returned to his drink.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
The items were interesting, chains to attach to a weapon that would make it impossible, or close to it, to be disarmed. Such a tool would be useful in the things that Cruros often did, though when the merchant named his price, he was shocked by the sheer expense. He didn't have the coin to purchase the chains, and knew for a fact that the metal used in them wasn't worth a tenth of their construction.
"Any chance you'd be willing to haggle over that price?" The merchant shook his head, pointing to a sign. It read clearly 'Prices are non-negotiable.' Oh well. Cruros knew there was some fool in the world who was willing to pay more than needed, and he'd gained the information he needed to know from the items construction. Soon enough, he'd just buy the metal and forge himself a chain for his blade, instead of paying for the added labor, he would do it himself.
So he walked away from the stand, whistling idly as a stand selling fruit caught his eye. "I wonder if the price on apples has risen as well..." He muttered something about the price of goods rising, though didn't say anything more as he walked towards the stand.
OOC
Minecraft username:_CompanionCube_
What is your age:16
What is your timezone: EST or GMT -5
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: I've roleplayed on several other MC servers such as Eurasia and Uthrandir and have a few years of experience from roleplaying on WoW.
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes, I have read and understand, and accept all the rules stated.
What is the rule you agree with the most?: I agree with the "no magic" rule. I feel as if this is a very reoccurring thing on plenty of RP servers on MC, and when they are applied, it tends to get a bit messy.
How did you find the server?: Through searching the forums, I'm itching to RP again!
Why should you be whitelisted?: I'm interested in immersing my own character into the server's detailed lore, and just itching to roleplay once more! I'm a very mature player when it comes to RP, but I can also be laid-back and easygoing with other activities. I feel as if the more mature and friendly players are on an RP server, most small conflicts should be handled accordingly with maturity and kindness, and this can also attract other mature and friendly players to the server itself!
Define powergaming: Powergaming is the action of another player forcing another player's character to do something that they wouldn't want to do. I frequently see this in fights, especially when someone is attacking another player, saying that the other character got hit even though it was not consented by the this other player. This also can tie in with God modding, which would
have a person's character able to excel at every possible skill or be able to accomplish anything, even if it were completely impossible, which would allow them to force characters to do certain things due to their OP skills or accomplishments not previously achieved
.
Define metagaming: Metagaming is using Out of Character information to their advantage and bringing it into RP to further their character or just act knowledgable. It's quite common when meeting a person and knowing their name OOC but then using that information in RP, even though you haven't ever met the person In Character.
Who was the first king of Redania?:Kurgan D'arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: King Ganrik's newest successor to the throne took the fabled "Orb of Chaos" and did not heed the late dead king's warning. This mad king rose to power with the orb by his side, and controlled very old magic. This attracted many exotic beasts, such as dragons and large spiders to the mountain. During all this, the Dwarves began to argue and grow mad like their king was, sparking only with small arguments and petty fights until it full-on erupted into bloodshed of the many dwarves that resided inside. One dwarf did manage to survive, after seeing visions from the orb after killing two of his kind for it. He fled out of the kingdom, spreading the word of this corrupted orb and how the his great kingdom collapsed.
Who are the Jarr?: Dark skinned elf individuals hailing from a desert-like climate, known for their grand sandstone cities, that were soon abandoned due to contant issues with plagues. The Jarr also followed in the shadows of dragons, wandering wherever they went. They did eventually meet the Redanians, who they interbred with and it eventually got to the point where only the
dark skin color was the only distinguishable trait.
IC
Character Name: Daenyra "Nyra" Stone
Character Age: 26
Character Gender: Female
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc):
Towering over most petite females, the stocky Daenyra Stone keeps a fit and muscular boyish-like figure. Her chin-length, dark brown locks of hair frame her thick jaw-line, and which these locks of hair partially cover her one eye-patch-covered eye, and some hair fringes over her right, uncovered ocean-blue eye. Between her eyes, lies her quite pointy but stubby nose, covered in light freckles, which can't be seen unless she was standing in the sun's rays. Her attire consists of simple leather armor over chain mail, her gauntlets, pads on her knees and her boots are covered in some iron. Sometimes she wears a light brown cloak to help ease the pain with colder weather. She rarely removes her armor in front of people, unless she trusted you enough to feel even comfortable enough to do that.
Character Personality (How your character acts):
(As for D&D Alignment she'd be Lawful Neutral) Resilient and tough as stone, Nyra acts quite cold, stiff, and tough-as-nails around some at first, but to most, she rubs off as diplomatic in a sense when dealing with tasks, and other people. She tends to act stubborn at times and sometimes likes alone time to herself. She also has come to terms with sometimes getting too fierce and infuriated when bothered enough, she has had times in her past where she has gotten in a farce or two. Her anger issues tend to show up especially if she's had a bit to drink, but she's decided to give that pastime up for the time being.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths):
Strengths:
Boldness: Bold at times, Nyra gets this to brave through the darkest of times.
Naturally Brave: Combined with her boldness, she will do anything that would scare most. This can also lead to her unfortunate death if she dare tread the line between life and death.
Experience: Has experience with the job of sellsword, has experience with being around blacksmiths/knowing smithing jargon, and knows her way around using a one-handed shortsword in times of dire need.
Follows any codes/laws and orders set upon her to the T.
Weaknesses:
Pyrophobia: After an accident with fire while smithing with her father, she now has a fear of flames and just is straight up uncomfortable with flames. She rarely tells people about this.
Can not swim: Never learned how to swim, ever. She spent most of childhood helping out her father due to the lack of a mother.
Stubbornness
Anger Issues
Prejudiced toward men: She has completely convinced that some men out there can be absolutely rude and a block to her life goals, but she has learned to ignore them and continue onward, unless she was provoked.
Not formally trained: Not formally trained in the art of swords, but she would like to learn so she can reach her ultimate goals in life.
Likes to spend money on useless wares: Due her interest in fascinating objects, sometimes she will literally become poor due to these poor choices while searching for supplies at markets.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Lifting the sledgehammer up into the air, she scuffles her feet across the sand, moving into a balanced stance before striking down with such ferocity on the molten-red iron. CLANG! The iron hissed and cried at her with every strike. A monotonous task, letting the blacksmith choose where she might hit next, and there she would repeat the as always: lift, balance, then strike! The memories of being a striker clamored through her mind as she relived the past several years while daydreaming under a tree, while waiting for her client to return with today's pay.
Not many women could complete this tedious task though. It was quite a challenge for young Daenyra Stone to even try. It was about three to four years until she used the sledgehammer at the prime age of 16, testing and practicing her strength, performing tasks that her father, the blacksmith, would give her. When she did finally use the hammer itself, it was when her job as striker ended. A tragic accident involving fire and hot iron rendered her vision to one eye, damning herself as an unemployed freak-show of a human being: Tall and muscular, dark brown hair that reached chin-length, one piercing ocean-blue eye, and a boyish-like look about her. Who would of wanted Nyra Stone? Her father surely did not. His words echoed through the endless chasm that she called her mind, full of uninteresting facts and smithing jargon, which screamed: "It takes two equally sharp eyes to create suitable craft."
Enraged and upset, Nyra set out for greener pastures, departing from the outskirts of the settlement named Hinterstoder, stealing a shortsword and supplies from her father, and then ran off. She developed a fierce habit of drinking, attending in many inns in bouts of drinking. She on occasion would also partake in fights, beating a man in a just farce of iron and steel out of pure luck, the other times resulting in her being beaten. This summed up her adolescence.
A few years out of her strife, she matured greatly, abandoned her drinking habits, and had three or four years of experience alone under her belt. She'd much prefer working alone, especially by self-employing herself as a sellsword to unknown nobles and merchants in Redania. From this, she likes the duty and diplomatic duty of protecting another's life. Enthralled by the tales of the greatest knight in Redania, Sir Arnald, one of Nyra's greatest goals is to actually try to raise to knighthood, to prove a point to some that she can raise to a higher role than most women could ever do in their lives.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Along the not-so-sturdy side roads of Redania, Nyra and her nobleman client, who she sworn to protect with her life, was making her rounds to pass through a side road.. without the conflicts and trouble of travelling on the main road. She towered over the old nobleman, surprised when he asked for her to protect her with her blade a few days past. They had been out on the road for several days, occasionally stopping to take a rest under a nearby oak tree.
She always took this path, especially when trying to traffic her clients to places in Redania. Nyra always noted that there was nearly no trouble by travelling not-so-treadded roads. The old man was sitting a bit back, she was scouting on ahead to make sure that no fallen trees or any sort of blockade on the road would slow their journey.
A rustle of branches and the sound of thudding feet came close to her, and she soon was confronted by a bandit, taller and more gruff look than she did. Most tended to see her as a feminine boy, and she really didn't mind at this point anyways.
"My men lay hidden around you and that-" He pauses mid-sentence to hold up his two-handed longsword, and point behind her, possibly noting the old man taking a snooze at the tree several stride lengths away. "-old nobleman back there, has something I want. Drop everything ya got, and we won't poke ya." Daenyra furrows her eyebrows confusidly, giving a glare at the bandit.
Her voice, deep, but disquishly female, earned a raised eyebrow from the man. "Who says that he's a nobleman?"
"The fact that we've followed ya for a day 'ah two. Don't act all surprised, we hear ya."
Noting the man's sharpened longsword, she realized that she with some experience with her one handed shortsword would be no chance against such a large blade, she refused to draw her blade anyways, she didn't know if others were hiding around or not.. and she wouldn't want to find out anyways, especially by starting a fight.
Unclasping her belt, she drops what little she has, two daggers and her shortsword. "All I have."
"I don't want anythin' ya have, woman. The nobleman, bring 'im over here, ya? I'll come with ya so ya don't try any business with me." The bandit replied, still holding the longsword up.
The most foolish mistake that the bandit made, was to actually walk away from the line of sight of his possible mates. She walked behind him, keeping a calm distance, while putting back on her belt. The old man woke with a start, noticing Daenyra and the bandit in front of her, staring at Nyra with pure fear. He said nothing though, to Nyra's surprise. The man nearly talked her ear off for most of the trip and this was the most silence that she has heard from him.
Taking this advantage, she removed her sword, not unsheathing it, and she swung her unsheathed sword plus scabbard, to attempt to hit the bandit's neck. Out of pure luck, it did hit, but the consequences were not worth the hit. Almost instinctively the bandit slashed at her, wounding her right arm, piercing right through her leather armor. "RUN!" She screamed to the old man, while the bandit was still facing Daenyra. Grabbing his wares, the old man stumbles while running and gets a good distance away from the bandit, starting to sprint off.
Holding her unsheathed sword, while the her left hand held her fresh wound, she ran off as well, while the bandit just stood there for some odd reason. Normally he would of knocked her head off by now.
A hiss streamed by her, passing through the brush past her line of sight. An arrow pieced a nearby tree, and this began to make Daenyra fear for her life. Where was the old man? Arrows kept hissing past her, noting that the archer themselves was a bad shot, or she was sprinting too quick for her life. Rain began to pour, the rainclouds releasing their torment onto the ground below, and Daenyra had run for several hours now, the arrows and possibly the bandits gone by now. She hadn't seen any sign of the bandit, and her arm was hurting badly. She stopped at this time to wrap a surrogate bandage around her arm, to stop the bleeding for now. Searching everywhere, she could not find the man or any traces of him on that road. Maybe if she weren't injured she could have searched much longer.
She did make it back to town though after a few hours of wading in the rain and searching. Nyra never saw the man again, sadly. No one ever noticed, so she never spoke about him nor asked.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Daenyra Stone stopped drinking. But why was she still in this inn, partaking in the habit? Sometimes she never knew why, so she just excused it as a small "reward" for herself, and only drink just ONE tankard of ale.
Among the several occupants in the small inn, Nyra sits back in her chair, enjoying her "reward," by slowly sipping and taking a large swig or two of ale. It had been a few months since she had ale, so she felt the slight buzz of alcohol cloud her senses which allowed her to relax a bit more. A drunken man walks by, stumbling into her, screaming, "...Watch wheres ya goin'!" ending with other garbles and swears. She realized that most of her ale had spilled onto her and the man.. and maybe if she were a bit more intoxicated, she probably would have snapped at the man's drunkenness. Nyra took it as a blessing though, leaving the rest of the tankard there, and stopped drinking for the night.
Making her way out of the inn, she sort of regretted leaving the last swigs of the ale on the table. "Damn."
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Making her rounds at the market with today's pay was quite difficult for Daenyra. It was her first time at this market, and she was quite interested in what they had. She had a knack of buying interesting items, but not having enough money left over to buy necessary supplies and the sort, sadly. But, her eyes immediately caught sight of this gleaming blade in the sunlight, at a stall where most would pass by. Nyra had a fascination in the intricacy and craft of weapons, especially if they were very cared for. Sometimes she wished she could go and learn more about the profession of Smithing where she could learn how to make such blades.
Picking up the blade, she unsheathed it from the tough leather scabbard. Mouth agape, the merchant at the stall peaks his interest at Nyra glancing at the blade.
A strong, foreign accent awoke her from her daydreaming, thinking about if she had the suffcient funds to actually afford the beautiful sword. Inviting her in, the stall smelled different than the outside stalls, stinking of spices and other foreign smells. Smiling and speaking of the blade itself and it's origin, he named such an outrageous price, that Daenyra's eyebrows rose so high from their original position that the merchant had to ask, "Are you okay?" She blinked for a moment, contemplating. She then shook her head. "It's a interesting sword, but I'm not here for this." She leaves the blade on the table in front of the merchant.
The merchant shrugged, the darker skinned man disappearing into the confines of his stall, and Nyra had secretly hoped that he would scramble for a new, less outrageous price in a few moments. Alas, moments passed and he did not.. and she just pushed the idea of the sword into the back of her mind for later, when she would have the funds to buy it for herself.
Nyra made her out of the weird-smelling stall and moved herself across the market, to check other wares that she would need for the next few days, hoping the merchants there wouldn't name such outrageous prices.
What is your age: 18
What is your timezone: Central Time (US & Canada)
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: First encounter in roleplay would have been around eight years ago on Warcraft III. That is, of course, if we’re not counting the years of pretending with friends. On Warcraft III (Reign of Chaos and The Frozen Throne), I eventually met this guy named Varzkkar, otherwise known as MagmaLava at the time before he had his identity crisis. There, I experimented with the custom RP maps, and even some chat-channel RPs (Didn’t go over very well for the most part). It’d be a bit before I moved on from Warcraft III to other waters, like Minecraft. I’ve been RPing in Minecraft for a good three or so years now, although I can’t actually get a good date on it, and that hasn’t been three consecutive years of Minecraft RP; I’ve taken breaks where they were needed, which was a lot honestly. But between those three years and breaks, I did copious amounts of Forum-RPs and general Skype-RPing (there are so many
kinds).
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Of course!
What is the rule you agree with the most?: Gotta say I agree with “-To kill without provocation, be psychotic or otherwise mentally ill, and commit any extreme criminal acts (such as mass arson), you need to have an accepted Evils Application.”
It sucks to have random psychotic or otherwise evil characters running around. Especially when they make no sense in terms of why they’re mentally ill in the manner they are.
How did you find the server?: Through Varzkkar, truthfully. He found the server and told me about it quite a bit, for a fairly long time.
Why should you be whitelisted?: I think I’d make a good addition to the server. I think.
Define powergaming: An action that does not take into consideration the opinion or consent of other players, or worse; reality. These actions are usually very favorable to the person undertaking them, and are commonly unfair to everyone else involved, unfortunately.
Define metagaming: Similar to powergaming in a sense, but on a different end of the spectrum. Metagaming is when a character has knowledge he/she/it should not have, and has no ability to know. This is commonly found when someone hears, or finds, something out out of character, and then uses that knowledge in character. An example roughly being an archer knowing magic, or how to cast magic. This archer was born under a rock, and now mysteriously has the knowledge of magic? How this happened, no one knows. Hint: The player heard the admins talking about it.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'Arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: The first Great Dwarven Kingdom collapsed because of a ‘civil war’ by the loosest of definitions. It’s subjects had been tainted by an old form of magic that resonated from an orb brought up by a new king’s command, after the old and former king had ordered its removal and for it to be hidden. Once the orb had been taken to the city it subsequently infected the king, and then his people. The civil war, basically everyone killing each other over the smallest of things, was accompanied by dragons and spiders flocking to the mountain in which the city was nestled.
Who are the Jarr?: The Jarr were a race of dark skinned elves that were largely found in desert regions, and belonged to the civilization of Jarr’al.
[In Character]
Character Age: 25
Character Gender: Male
Character Race: Half-Elf, Northerner.
Character Appearance: Jaden is a very tall (6’4-6’5) but incredibly pale man, who appears (and is) rather fit with lean and well toned/defined muscles. He’s the kind of pale you’d expect to see on an albino shut-in hybrid. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you’re asking, he’s neither of those. To his knowledge, at least. He has eye length black hair that gives him a faintly menacing appearance, but a smile (depending on the situation) usually erases that negative aspect in an instant, depending on the person of course. To compliment his rather gray-scale appearance, Jaden had at one point in his life decided to endorse the black and white features, and wear a long, thick and dark coat/cloak. Despite how ragged and worn it’s become over the years, he’s rather protective of it in an almost fatherly manner. Below his cloak, and on his bare skin are the signs of many, many scars and old wounds that never got the proper treatment they deserved, or needed at the time; complimenting the various tattoos he has on his arm quite nicely. These tattoos seem to be completely nonsensical to anyone who doesn’t know the story behind them, but they appear to be a simple ‘X’ on his right shoulder with a long, black and 2-D appearing chain that spiral all the way down his arm and stops at his wrist. Where the black chain stops, sits two more tattoos, one of a black sunrise, and the other of an also black butterfly.
Character Personality: He is a very protective and caring person, despite his violent tendencies. He often expresses this in odd ways, the most notable is his protectiveness for friends, namely Ruka, or even just acquaintances he’s randomly met. Or his cloak. He’s been known to be protective about any of his belongings as well. Not in a greedy way, but more of a silly, joking way. It’s very easy to ‘burn the bridge’ in terms of friendship with the dark haired man, he’s not likely to forgive someone for something they’ve done to him, or his friends if he feels they did it in ill intent; he will personally bury the ashes of those ‘friendship bridges’ if his own actions towards fixing them are met with hostility. Again, despite his very unforgiving manner, Jaden is very kind and gentle to people who don’t burn his lovely bridge, and is willing to help them in most manners he can!
Character Strengths/Weaknesses: He would consider his best ‘strength’ to be his combat prowess with a weapon, or no weapon if the situation is that bad. He’s used and held weapons for most of his life, so somewhere during those years he’s figured out which end is the pointy end and worked from there. He’s good with words as well, and can be quite charismatic, a good leader of sorts. A good leader is not stupid by any means, but he’s commonly ruthless and very, very directive driven. He’s not exactly lawless either, he wouldn’t steal.. But if a shop window stopped him from his target, he’d ensure the window paid for that in glassy, crystalline blood. His ruthlessness, or harsh methods of doing things often extends to his combat abilities if he’s sufficiently worked up enough, and well coordinated attacks will often become very brutish and uncoordinated.
Character Biography
Jaden’s tale often starts with his wanderings in the northern regions of the land, the colder and untamed lands. Or at least that’s where he likes to start, and often does not go much further back than that unless he has to. He grew up in the nurturing arms of his ‘uncle’, who took over Jaden’s guardianship after he deemed Jaden’s biological father unfit to keep himself on track, let alone raise a young, adventurous boy. Jaden’s ‘uncle’, or sole parental figure, was not actually related to Jaden in the slightest, except by being the father’s best friend. Despite no actual blood ties to the young boy, the ‘uncle’ did not let that stop him from teaching him everything he could, and went out of his way to teach compassion and understanding. Those were things young Jaden would need in the world if he ever truly wanted to accept where he was, and why things had happened the way they did, and to move on.
On the deathbed of his uncle, the teenager Jaden wept while holding his hand, fearing the illness that was quickly sweeping his uncle’s health away was going to soon take the life away from his closest friend and his fatherly figure. His ‘uncle’, seeing these tears, knew his time was running out, and that it was time for the boy to know why he had taken care of him for all these years. He began to tell the dark haired boy, Jaden, that when he was a baby, his mother had fallen ill just after he was born, and the post-childbirth weaknesses had given the sickness enough momentum to kill her. From the death of his wife, Jaden’s father had fallen into a deep, unstoppable depression that left him mentally and socially crippled. With his best friend slowly dying, and in a state that was unfit to even be near a child, the uncle took young Jaden away from his real father, leaving his best friend with the parting words of “I’ll raise him right Astryder, you can be in our lives again when you’ve found peace.”
After hearing these words, they did not pain Jaden as much as they should have. The compassion and understanding he had been taught as a young child had shielded him from most of the pain, and instead he channeled the emotions he felt into love for the man who had raised him, and stayed next to his bedside until his final breaths withered away on his lips. After burying his uncle, his self-made father, he packed his things and left their home in a small village.
After leaving his only home, Jaden made his way out in the wilderness, and other areas in the region, mostly doing mercenary work; odd jobs and other dirty work that hardened his heart. He did his best to shield his mind and heart, but the damage had been done; much of his uncle’s hard work was being undone before his very eyes, and he was doing his best to turn away from it.
One night, he had been laying in his bedroll after a day of hard work when he, in a feverish dream, spoke to his uncle about recent events. After reciting all that had happened, he, in the dream, realized how much pain it was causing his uncle by the grimace on the older man’s face. After awakening with the image of his pained uncle fresh in his mind, Jaden fled the mercenary group, taking his belongings with him in a hurry.
From that point, he wandered solely in the wilderness, wandering among the more untamed areas of the lands. It was here that he truly felt at home, in a place he didn’t have to worry about people, about those who just wanted to see others in pain. It was here he could heal, and finally grieve.
He did heal, and he did mourn his uncle properly; but something more important happened to him while he was out here. He met a wandering elf by the name of Ruka; an untamed and cold warrior, someone he saw a bit of himself in; and realized he could help her, and she could help him. From that point, he traveled with the elf, being something of a best friend to her. They fought alongside each other, they slept in the same caves and they hunted together. They were free with each other, and that’s how it was for a long time.
After years of this, Jaden slowly realized there were more things to life than to hunting and wandering for the rest of his half-elven lifespan, he had a yearning to almost settle down. It was like his heart was being torn in two, one from something instinctive in his, the thing in him screaming to find a place to call his own, and the other part of him that realized he would only ever be happy where he was right then and there.
Jaden then broke away from Ruka after explaining to her what he needed to do; he needed to wander alone for a while to truly understand himself. He then grabbed his belongings and wandered out in the world, and found himself wandering among the populations of cities and other people; completely what he had said he was going to do. He found himself slowly growing close to a woman by the name of Idania; a woman whom he adored and found interesting. She was wild, and eccentric. They married each other after months of being something similiar to ‘hopelessly in love’, but with more of a realistic attitude of ‘we both love each other, so let’s enjoy this.’ Idania knew Jaden’s past, and his constant identity crisis; something that was constantly plaguing him. She knew he was yearning to be wandering again; it wasn’t hard to see when he would constantly be looking out the windows at night, watching the stars above them in the black void. When he hesitantly told her what he needed to do; what he wanted to do, she agreed tearfully, telling him she’d be there for him when he got back. After packing his old things, and giving his wife a tearful goodbye, Jaden wandered back out in the wilderness, into the untamed, and began his search for Ruka. He needed to find her.
Scenarios:
The bandit would give him a slightly fearful look. He’s still not sure if this guy’s insane or not. He certainly looks wild, with his long hair falling in front of his eyes and the worn and tattered cloak making him seem to be some kind of a fugitive. “Don’t take another step! We’re all armed, and we don’t want to fight you over this!” Even to the bandit, whose panic was slowly increasing, his voice sounded slightly frightened. He cursed himself under his breath at his own fear and raised his dulled axe slowly.
Jaden’s eyes narrow at the raised weapon, then pauses only feet from the other man, watching him closely. A silent stand off with their eyes as weapons, one set looking slightly fearful with the other betraying none of his emotions. The blade-wielder then breaks the stand off by darting forwards, blade suddenly raised and poised to attack. He of course, didn’t actually have any intention of attacking, only a ploy to scare the bandit, but he underestimated fear and survival instincts, as the bandit actually took it as a sign of violence and reacted properly; by slamming the blunt side of the axe against Jaden’s ribs.
There would be a collective gasp from everyone involved; from the bandits watching their crazy friend take on the man, and the man whose ribs were just shown how close the muscle attached to them could actually get.
Jaden coughs and stumbles to the side, then takes the bandit’s own surprise and hesitation at his movements to his advantage by darting around him, then slamming his elbow into the side of his head, wincing again at the pain of the elbow connecting the much, much thicker skull of the bandit. The bandit who had the uncanny luck of getting his head cracked by the blow gasps in pain and stumbles to his knees, one hand dropping the axe involuntarily and grasping his aching head, swearing loud enough a mother squirrel nearby covered her litter’s ears.
The dark clad warrior then whirls around, and goes to roughly pull the bandit up, and slides the sword next to his throat; then presses the razor sharp edge against his exposed neck soft enough he got the understanding of what was happening. Jaden would move his mouth close to the bandit’s ear and speak just as softly before, his breathing hitching ever so slightly with the adrenaline flowing through his veins. “Now..I think we have an understanding then?”
The bandit would only make a fearful and slight whimpering sound. This sound is good enough to satisfy the equally worried warrior holding his life on the line, apparently, as he’s shoved forward after the blade is withdrawn. The wild man then speaks to the rest of the bandits in hiding, not quite sure if they’re actually there, or just a bluff; but it’s never a bad idea to tie up loose ends. “Now.. Unless you want the same treatment as your friend, which isn’t a good thing considering I’ll be less than willing to show the same mercy to those who’ve been properly warned.. I suggest you let me pass.”
With that, Jaden turns to continue walking down the pass, the bandits rushing out to help their fallen comrade, but leaving the wild man to his wanderings.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
Jaden’s amused look returns with the absence of the drunken man’s watchful eyes, and he steps up and gives the other patrons who’re watching a wink, then replaces his amused look with one that appears to be silent fury; grasping the drunken man’s shirt and pulling him up none too roughly. After the initial surprise by the man-who-drank-far-too-much, Jaden shoves his face close to his, their noses almost touching. He gives the man only a moment to think of what’s happening before he speaks. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? I’m a gentle man, believe me, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Next time you decide to someone off, do it where others won’t be hurt by your drunken mistakes. I could have been a murderer for all you know.. Or I still could be.”
With that, Jaden shoves the drunken man down into another vacant chair, then silently turns and walks out of the tavern. He wasn’t interested in drinking tonight anyway.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
The merchant’s eyes light up with glee as he realizes he’s got a desperate buyer in front of him. The best kind of buyer. “What’re you willing to give me.. Or what’re you willing to do?” His patrician features and eyes slide over Jaden’s defined form which is still obvious despite his cloak. They both knew Jaden had one thing to offer; his skill. Without waiting for Jaden to answer, the merchant speaks again, pouncing on what he knew about his customer.
“I’ve got a job for you, if you desire? I can see you’re a fighter..” The merchant’s eyes flicker to the weapon on Jaden’s waist, and a slow grin begins to form. Oh yes, this man is perfect for what he needs, for what he’s needed for the past few days.
Jaden’s voice grows dark and is filled with promises of pain if this goes the wrong way for both of them. “What do you want, merchant? I’m not going to do your dirty work or call on any unpaid debts. I’m sure with these prices you’ve got plenty of people who can’t afford your wares.”
The merchant’s grin dies instantly at the words Jaden dared to utter. His voice is also now filled with something darker, a promising of something worse than pain. “I’m not a criminal or lowlife. No, what you’re speaking of is something a criminal would do, what a cutthroat would try to hire muscle for. I want you to do some good with your skill. I’ve funded the city guard off to the side for years now, but they still have not tracked down the criminals who stole my goods when I very well know where they are!”
Without waiting for Jaden to speak, the merchant gave him his request. “I want you to go to the warehouse near the docks and retrieve a small crate. There shouldn’t be that many, and the bandits would have kept it close to where ever they’re hiding. If you do this for me, the necklace is yours.”
Jaden took a moment to consider the request. He would be doing good for the city.. And getting his sweet Idania something. His choice was obvious to even himself, but he still had to make sure. “And these are for sure criminals?”
The merchant nods slowly, drawing out three wanted posters. Jaden’s eyes narrowed dangerously at one of them. He recognized that man, he had even elbowed him in the back of the head at one point. The merchant man recognized the look, then narrowed his own eyes dangerously at Jaden. “You know them?”
Jaden’s voice held the same promise of danger it had previously, and his voice hitched with faint anger. “Yes.. I met them on the road sometime ago.. I’ll get you your missing goods back, don’t worry..” With that being said, Jaden whirled around and then began to slowly move through the crowds that were moving between the stalls and various vendors, moving towards the large warehouse.
There he looked over the warehouse with observant eyes, then saw a small, open window on the second floor. Next to the window was a house’s roof. He gave a small chuckle then walked over to the house and began to slowly ascend up its wall, using various beams and other poorly designed structural designs as hold; eventually reaching the roof where he spins around to face the window across the alley that separated the warehouse and the house. With a sigh and small moment to close his eyes and steel his nerves once more, Jaden takes a running leap across the alley and slams against the wall, his pelvis hitting the window ledge. He desperately grasps at the sides of the windows, and after getting some grip on them, he slowly slides himself into a sitting position on the window still.
Jaden looks around the open warehouse before him, looking for any sign of the bandits, his insides burning with something close to anger, but a bit of disappointment too. He’d hoped that his meeting with these three would have at least scared them into some honest work. After a few minutes of silent observation, of listening and watching, he finds nothing, and not wanting to disappoint the merchant, he drops from the window still onto a small platform that circles all the way around the warehouse. giving it an almost ‘barnish’ appearance.
He lands with a soft thud, certainly audible to anyone inside of the warehouse, and then starts to move towards what appears to be a small office, where trade manifests and contracts are kept. He unsurprisingly finds the door busted open with the door lock laying in the doorway in a small collecting of splinters of wood. After a quick search of the office, he finds the bandit’s belongings, left laying there as they go to pillage or look for other victims.
With an angry grunt, Jaden kneels down and tears open the bag, revealing a small box and a collection of coins. He stares down at the contents, and after removing the box he flings the bag across the room, letting the coins spray across the room in a hailstorm of clattering and golden rain. He looks around, and after spotting a pen quill and a piece of parchment, he writes the bandits a note promising pain and more suffering if they dare to keep this up, and he promises to find them if they try to run or continue with this lifestyle.
He then pulls a dagger from his boot and stabs the note against a wall, pinning it there; and with that, Jaden leaves the warehouse through the front entrance, and goes to collect his due.
OOC
Minecraft username: Webemperor
What is your age: 23
What is your timezone: GMT +2
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Minecraft, Garry's Mod and tabletop games.
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes.
What is the rule you agree with the most?: No magic. MAGIC SUCKS. Also it causes too much stupid RP most of the time.
How did you find the server?: From a friend.
Why should you be whitelisted?: The main question is, why shouldn't I?
Define powergaming: Forcing people to something they dont want to, mostly inform of doing impossible things to another character without giving them a chance to respond.
Define metagaming: Using OOC info IC.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: Orb of Darkness.
Who are the Jarr?: Darkelves from a desert-like land.
IC
Character Name: Krass
Character Age: 25
Character Gender: Male
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): A long, slender man with a blue leather armor. He has a short black hair and green eyes.
Character Personality (How your character acts): A stubborn, intimidating and somewhat charismatic swordsman, Krass' is a self-proclaimed tactical genius. Even though he is gifted on
these things, Krass is very stubborn, and somewhat fears females. He underestimates his opponents, causing his tactical efficieny to drop most of the times. He always takes pleasure from duels
and fights, but he despises on needed violence and bloodshed, finding it dishonorable and disgusting.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths):
Strenghts:
-Excellent Swordsman: Left purposeless, Krass spent most of his time honing his art. He considers himself to be an excellent swordsman.
-Quick wits: Krass can find easy solutions to most problems, even though these solutions may not be permanent or good at all.
-Coup d'ceil: Krass can find tactical advantages and disadvantages a terrain or a battlefield can offer very easily. This lets him win most of his outdoor fights, using a tree, a nearby stone
or a hill.
-Can play a flute: The Trader that took Krass in also thought him how to play a flute. He thought him this as a way to control his anger and calm his mind.
Weaknesses:
-Womens: Krass tends to avoid females most of the time.
-Stubborn: Krass is quite arrogant, and wont change his mind unless proven heavily wrong.
-Dislikes spending too much money: Krass doesn't tend to spend his precious money on things he should or should not have, even though they may save his life.
-Underestimating: Krass tends to underestimate his opponents. Even though he tends to be victorious, this trait of his caused him to lose money on duels, or get unneccessary wounds.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Krass was born in The Slums. He was abandoned by his parents at an early age of 2, since then he forgot both their names and faces. As a child he wandered the streets to find wood and such
things to shape those things into a sword, so he can practice and one day leave The Slums. When he was 6, a trader took him in, fed him in exchange for him to bring him values things and
odds and ends throughour The Slums. The Trader knew how to use swords very well, that way he protected his shop from criminals and robbers. Unfortunately, he was losing his skill, trader
thought Krass how to use swords properly, so that he can guard the shop for the trader. Krass quickly learned how to master a sword when he was 12, defending the shop for the trader.
Until he was 18, not much happened in Krass' life. He defended the shop and perfected his art in his freetime. When he was 18, Trader was killed by a girl in a side-alley while Krass was
not paying attention. Girl was young, but was probably working for the local crimelords. This shocked Krass, as until that point, most women he met was somewhat kind. He cut down the girl
but this didn't saved trader's life. He later learned that crimelord was targetting trader and Krass. His men soon catched up to him in trader's house one night. Krass used the old house in
his advantage, trapping the men inside, then destroying the house by cutting key points in the building. This allowed him to escape, then outsmart several other gang members by using
the alleyways of his childhood to his advantage to defeat the men with his sword.
Crimelord soon catched him, but he was impressed by Krass' skills, so he gave two choices to Krass, to help
him, or die on the spot. Krass accepted his offer and joined him, while promising to take trader's revenge one day. For two years, Krass aided the Crimelord to become one of the most influental
people on the Slums. But Krass remembered his promise. He murdered crimelord while he was taking a bath, and hanged his dead naked body from atop of his house as a revenge. He then left The Slums
quickly after. He roamed the land with the extreme money he stole from the crimelord, while usually helping a lost caravan or village if needed and paid, while honing his art of blade and flute.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
It took sometime for Krass to realize that what he was facing was a bandit. He was on this road for a few days now, with a 1 or 2 hours of sleep at max. "Are you even listening?" shouted bandit. "A robbery is it not?" said Krass
sarcastically. "Oh look, we have a smartass here people!" said bandit, looking to bushed nearby, possibly meaning he has people nearby. "Empty your pockets!" shouted the bandit. Krass quickly looked around. He found 2 bushed that
looked occupied. He also saw a deep point in the road that he may lead the bandit into in a possible duel. "I dont really value my life. But I know alot. I know about nearby ruins that have tons of golds in them with teasure chests!"
Bandit looked in a glimpse of excitement: "Tell us than, in exchange for you life.". Krass looked at the bandit: "I wish a death in a duel. If you beat me one on one, I'll tell you about it all.". After thinking for sometime, Bandit
agreed and they attacked each other. With a few quick moves, Krass led bandit into that deep point, where bandit lost his balance. Krass took his change and slashed the bandit quickly. He quickly then lifted bandit's dead body and
blocked incoming arrows from the bush. He charged at the archer before he can shoot more. Archer fell easily, and when he turned his back, he saw another bandit charging at him. When he was about to slash this one too, he realized something:
It was a woman. Krass hesitated for a moment, causing him to get wounded minimally, as he quickly regained his attention and backed off. He later kicked the woman, taking advantage from her small body but big waraxe. He then stabbed her.
Even though his wound annoyed and hurt him for the rest of his road, he compensated it with the bandages and well-made knife he found on the dead woman.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
Krass doesn't pay attention to the drunk man, as he doesn't want unneccessary fight in someplace he certainly doesn't care about. Man leaves the bar angrily while throwing several insults at him.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
What do you do? (Enact roleplay; conversation, actions, etc)
When Krass finally reached a nearby town, he first tried to find a new knife for hunting, even though he would prefer not to. He found a sharp knife made of steel, making it shine and easy to find in dark. He asked shopkeeper about the price.
Shopkeeper answered with a amount far from his reach. He told the shopkeeper that no one will buy this knife for his price. Shopkeeper refused to change his price. Krass, furiously left the shop. Later, for 4 days, he waited near the shop.
After the entire 4 days, no one bought the knife. He then returned to the shopkeeper. After another set of argument, shopkeeper said "Screw it" and sold the knife to Krass for a cheaper price.
Minecraft username: Quatral
What is your age: 15
What is your timezone: Pacific Standard Time
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Across various servers, 7 months of RP experience in all
Have you read, understood, and accepted the rules?: Yes
What is the rule you agree with the most?: The necessity of an Evils Application
How did you find the server?: I was informed on its existence by a friend of mine.
Why should you be whitelisted?: I believe I can roleplay decently and contribute well to the community in a positive manner.
Define powergaming: When someone forces an action without the victim's ability to react or defend properly.
Define metagaming: To use out of character information in a roleplay situation or to enhance knowledge in roleplay.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D'Arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: The orb found in a quest to fulfill the dying King Ganrik's last wishes drove the next king and the Dwarven people to madness and violence.
Who are the Jarr?: A desert dwelling, dark skinned Elven people.
IC
Character Name: Mortimer Graves
Character Age: 31
Character Gender: Male
Character Race, human/elf/dwarf (or a mix): Human
Character Appearance (Facial features, build, clothing, etc): Pale skin with an unhealthy grey tint, sallow cheeks with gaunt facial bones and sunken eyes. Yellowed teeth and a stump to a tongue are within the mouth. Atop his head is a curly and unruly head of ratty dark brown hair. A black woolen mantle and hood hang over the shoulders, atop a black cloth tunic. Grey patchwork leggings and worn brown leather shoes below the torso. Standing at 6' 3" full of height, he hunches over to stand a lowly 5' 10" on a regular basis. Due to his ascetic nature, he weighs a mere 140 pounds and is physically frail compared to the average male of his age.
Character Personality (How your character acts): Often wishing to be alone, reclusive in nature. Mortimer is paranoid of armed people and timid in the presence of crowd and public places. Communicating with basic grunts and hand signals, Mortimer has self-consciously lowered his thinking upon his own status, possessing a deep inferiority complex. He possesses a great love for the dead, an affinity for the deceased and what lies beyond his own meager life a fascinating concept to Mortimer. In reaction to others, in the rare occasion of public display and sociability, Mortimer holds a personal moral standard that is high in regards to alcohol, substances, sexuality, and hedonistic desires. Due to this, Mortimer will often fly into bestial rages at others breaking from his almost pious moral values, this double standard not breaking his strong belief in the morals restraining hedonism.
Character Strengths/Weaknesses (include skills/abilities in strengths): As a thinner and lithe man, Mortimer is very capable to manuver crowds, swiftly traveling on light feet. The counterpart side of this being Mortimer's ungainly height, in his hunch, he is often awkward in navigating cramped area's and places requiring to keep low of head. As Mortimer is commonly more at home in the dark, he is very capable of quietly and swiftly moving about at night and in dim places. The parallel of this being at day, and in places of greater light, he is often not as perceptive and easily subdued or outmaneuvered in the brightness of day.
Character Biography (Must be at least three paragraphs in length, include any memorable events):
Born to the Graves family in an obscure and generally nameless village not far from Wetrock, Mortimer was a reclusive child. From an early age, he was kept from others as his parents sought to make him a “respectable young man”. To achieve this, their methods were beating, hours of being locked in closets, and ranting at mistakes of things said beyond what they considered well to do. As he grew up, Mortimer had gotten used to and steadily accustomed to the lack of others, and his parent’s explanation of their reclusion. His lonely lifestyle and upbringing would greatly affect his life in the future, and adulthood. To cope with his friendless childhood and bizarre upbringing, Mortimer would often pretend to himself he could talk to the dead, becoming so enveloped with the conversations in his head to an extent of insanity. With his infatuation in regard to the deceased, he preferred the dark, to offer the illusion of shelter from the trauma and abusive parents in his childhood. On his 11th birthday, Mortimer received his first present. Tearing at the small box, he found within a complete albeit small skeleton of a rat. For the first time in his life he felt what could be almost called joy. The unexpected and rare of act of kindness on the part of his parents would not happen again in their lifetimes.
The climax of this punishment and abusive childhood, Mortimer did what his parents considered the final straw. Wishing to go and finally leave the home he had been locked up in for 19 years, Mortimer escaped the confines of his parent’s decrepit home. Travelling to Wetrock, the extraordinarily unsociable and entirely isolated Mortimer was in awe and shock at the sight of this comparably metropolitan setting. Awkward as he was, Mortimer found a great enjoyment and went about the town all day until sundown. During the day, he met a trader, awkwardly approaching him he asked about any graveyards about. Using the strict puritan-esque mannerisms of his parents, he swiftly found the way to a worn old gravesite. Spending the rest of the day there by the site, he enacted all the conversations of his childhood, talking to himself as if the dead were awake in his mind. As the day bled on, he found an onlooker watching him. Frightened by the figure, he sought to flee, only to be pursued. Followed by the unknown figure he reached the outskirts of the small town, turning to face the one who followed him. Seeing no one he would conclude that, it was the dead who were with him. This conviction in mind he would carry it to the grave, forever putting great superstition on the deceased and those that have passed, being about still. Eventually the sun sank and, dreading what his parents would do, but expecting it with a newfound confidence, Mortimer returned home.
The eventual trek back brought him, at last, to the old cottage of his parents. Walking up the steps his heart pumped in a mixture of excitement and fear he had never experienced before. Entering the old rickety structure his parents were sitting by the door, expressions of absolute coldness obvious in their demeanor. In his slow and somber approach, his mother rose to strike him across the face. Without a word, his father followed suit, standing to help her hold him down. Used to the treatment, Mortimer stayed still, expecting the usual beating and harassment. It was until his father had left him with his mother and returned with a jagged chicken knife, did he realize the danger he faced. Beginning to truly struggle, Mortimer saw his late efforts were futile. His father raised his mouth to him, his mother tearing it open and presenting a thrashing tongue. Biting and weakly attempting to fight back, his father cut across the tongue. The superficial laceration only caused Mortimer to let out a hoarse shriek, his father persisting, slowly sawing the writhing tongue from his mouth. Weakened and in agony, Mortimer fell to the floor, his tongue dropping next to him. Waking from unconsciousness of the event with a merciful amount of clothe stuffed around the stub of his tongue he tore it out in a panic. Looking around in the pitch black room, Mortimer saw he was locked in a closet, his tongue chopped out at the base. Pondering his choice, and the actions of his parents, he lay in the closet for days. He awoke on the 2nd day, with a pang of hunger in his stomach and a wracking headache. Slamming about the room for a time he could not tell he eventually shattered the fragile door. Slumping into the hall he found his way to his parents’ bedroom, they were not awoken by his commotion. He tore about for the knife they kept nearby. The event that took place next would spell the death of his parents, their mutilation and execution far eclipsing the wrongs of their punishments. Finally leaving the home for good, Mortimer left not the obedient child as he was raised, but the paranoid and reclusive man he had become.
Scenarios:
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess.
Mortimer walks slowly down the road, looking around him and to the brush as he hunches down, plodding at a steady pace.
A Bandit leaps from the forested brush, baring a short sword and a swift ultimatum, "I want all your valuables, your trinkets, everything you got. There hell of a' lot more than me if there's trouble, you can be damn sure!"
Mortimer perks his eyes up suddenly to meet the mans malicious grin with a nervous glare, fiddling for his pouch of currency, grunting lowly as he does so.
Eying Mortimer's motions, the Bandit scans the lanky and frail man, rubbing the palm of his hand over the sword grip.
Nodding to himself slowly, Mortimer presents a small pouch, the bandit moving closer, reaches for it.
As the bandit grips the pouch he stands, opening it, only to reveal a small rotting pile of bones, maggots, and what might once been food.
Stepping back, the bandit drops the pouch in disgust, Mortimer stepping forth to draw a thing rusty knife from the confines of his tunic. With a swift motion, he slams the point home into the gut of the startled and unprepared man. As the man chokes on blood within his lungs, Mortimer steps back, hearing the cries of the dead man's compatriots scrambling from the brush. Hearing the thud of throwing weapons and the twang of bows, Mortimer shrieks as a bow passes through his side, leaving a heavy bleeding gash.
Limping and hobbling in a run, Mortimer groans and cries out in pain as the blood flow is hardly tempered by his clutching hands. Eventually reaching a point where pursuit has stopped, Mortimer sets to tearing his clothes in makeshift bandages until civilization can be reached.
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going.
Mortimer sips nervously at his drink, wondering exactly what he had ordered.
The Drunk bumps into Mortimer, decrying in a slur, "Watch where yer' goin' ya' stupid *******."
Taken aback, he nervously grunts an apology, fumbling for his hood as he navigates the crowd to the door
The drunk pursues, crying out after, slurring in his stumbling approach, "I... eh... me, I demand an' 'pology!"
Warily looking back at the drunk, Mortimer breaks to the door through the tables to the exit, running at full tilt down the street with the patter of his soft leather shoes.
The drunk, in pursuit, stumbles to the door, looking out only to see a dark-clad figure turn into an alleyway.
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price.
Looking over the stall items, Mortimer looks back to the merchant with a dull glare.
The merchant returns a wide and cheery showman's grin, nodding as he begins to persist to the man about his wares, "You see these are very fine, won't find any others like it, I am sure."
Mortimer looks between the man and the item, a small wooden box of no particular interesting features.
"Oh you'll find it most useful to keep things in, now would you care to buy it?", the merchant asks in a cheery tone, grinning at the man.
Mortimer shrugs his hunched shoulders, nodding slowly, reaching for his coin pouch.
The merchant goes on to say, "That'd be worth far more than whatever you have in that small thing friend".
Mortimer finishes drawing forth the pouch in an air of purposeful lethargy, pulling it open to reveal some tarnished coins and a few rotted food bits.
The merchant scowls, "Now friend, come now, get back here with some real money, if you ever leave to see as much as this is worth", grinning he pats the box.
Mortimer raises himself to full height, shrugging his shoulders to relax and loosen, standing tall he looks down at the comparably shorter and somewhat chubby man. Grunting he extends the coin purse, a dull disinterested glare on his face.
Not one to lose his ground, the merchant persists, "Look I won't fall for any bully boy behavior, come back with the money or don't come back".
A deep-set frown upon Mortimer's face, he nods slowly, retracting the hand in the same manner of paced slowness. Giving up he turns his back, resuming his low slouch as he seemingly glides across the cobbled road to the nearest alleyway, Mortimer's form sifting back into the backdrop of the town.
OOC
Minecraft username: DragonFury2020
What is your age: 16
What is your timezone: GMT +2 - South Africa
What experience do you have in roleplaying?: Almost 2 years of roleplay experience.
Have you read and accepted the rules?: Indeed I have and I agree
What is the rule you agree with the most?: Respect your fellow players and the staff of the server. I believe if you respect the player and he/she respects you they will be in a better mood and the roleplay will be more exciting and interesting.
How did you find the server?: From my good friend TheFireAce
Why should you be whitelisted?: I am a kind and honest person and obey the rules, if I ever stepped out of line by mistake I would suffer/take the punishment. I have been roleplaying for almost 2 years and I really enjoy it but recently the servers have not been too good or are unorganized and the players not really cooperating. I would like to be whitelisted because I believe this is a fresh start to have fun and meet new people as well learn new things. I hope my application is what you are looking for and that I will be apart of this wondeful community.
Define powergaming: Powergaming is when one uses God like actions or doing something that your character is unable to do. It is meaning your opponent cannot stop or have a chance to dodge your attack, leaving unfair roleplay.
Define metagaming: Metagaming is when one uses OOC information in character to have an advantage or benefit your character. This makes IC surprises no fun and could ruin future RP's.
Who was the first king of Redania?: Kurgan D’Arco
Why did the great dwarven kingdom collapse?: An orb of great horror and destruction was discovered and their King Ganrik told his loving brethren to hide the orb and never let it fall into the wrong hands but they did not heed his warning. The new King commanded for the orb to be brought to him and eventually he was driven mad and the rest of the dwarfs followed until eventually they started slaughtering one another and lead to the destruction of the dwarven Kingdom.
Who are the Jarr?: The Jarr were a race of dark skinned elves who lived in the deserts. A plague destroyed their homes and forced them to live in Redania.
IC
Character Name: Kildarien Wolfblood
Character Age: 19
Character Gender: Male
Character Race: Human
Character Appearance:
-Height: 5'7
-Hair Color: Brown Hair
-Eye Color: Brown Eyes
-Body Type: Good Build
-Skin Color: White
Character Personality: "If you plan to attack my friends then you will have to get through me first."
Character Strengths/Weaknesses:
Strengths: Kildarien is focused, Resolute, and always ready for anything, he can adapt to situations quickly.
Weaknesses: Has a soft spot for friends and if they are taken hostage he freezes up
Character Biography:
[Childhood]
Kildarien was 1st born of Zio and Reyna Wolfblood, he was born on the 21st Moon of Suin. He was born into the village of Zarko his father was the leader of this village. When he was 2 years of age his sister Elaria was born and when he was 4 years of age his sister Selana was born. Kildarien was taught at the age of 10 how to use twin Shamshirs, Knives and a Bow. He trained everyday and went hunting with his father to bring home food and practice.
[Teenager]
It was a dark and cold night the sun had set and the moon had rised. It was a month after Kildarien's 14 birthday. Some bandits raided the village. Kildarien awoke to screams he jumped out of bed grabbing his swords and putting them on his side and grabbing his longbow with an arrow notched. He ran outside and fired the arrow at the first bandit he saw, then swang his bow on his back and unsheathed his Twin Shamshirs. He fought long and he fought hard but eventually got hit over the head and fell to the ground his two sisters were sitting next to his body screaming his name and begging for help, he watched his home burn and hearing faint screams and then nothing. He awoke the next morning, outside and sat up. Kildarien looked around, he saw burnt houses, dead bodies, people crying but he did not see his family. Kildarien picked up his swords and sheathed them and gathered his things and headed out to find his family.
[Adulthood]
Kildarien still has no luck in finding his family and now instead he has decided to settle down in a new home and be at peace. Start a new life for himself and try to forget what has happened to him in the past. A new day, a new life and a new beginning.
[Recent Events]
(Will post some when we actually RP)
Scenarios
1. You are traveling along the roads of Redania when a bandit jumps out in front of you. He claims several of his fellows are hiding in the brush beside the road, and if you value your life, to drop all the valuables you possess. What do you do?
Kildarien looks to the bandit and raises an eyebrow "Why do they then hide in the bushes?"
Bandit looks around then back to Kildarien "Just drop your valuables and walk away"
Kildarien nods, putting down his Twin Shamshirs, Longbow and his food and water and turns to walk off
Bandit walks forward towards Kildarien's valuables
Kildarien reaches into his cloak pulling out a throwing knife and turns to the bandit and smirks
Bandit has his hands full with weapons and food, then looks to Kildarien
Kildarien chuckles softly "Drop all your valuables if you value your life"
Bandit drops the various things and turns to run
Kildarien attempts to throw the knife for his back, hitting the man in the right leg, causing him to fall over
Bandit shouts in pain "You! Will pay!"
Kildarien goes to pick up his things and walks to the bandit, taking an arrow out his quiver
Bandit tries to crawl away, still in pain
Kildarien goes to step down hard on the knives in his leg, causing them to go deeper into his skin and making the pain even worse
Bandit screams in pain, tears rushing down his cheeks "P-Please sir, I-I have a wife and family. I just needed to get something to trade"
Kildarien sighs and puts the arrow back in his quiver "Then ask nicely" he gives the man some coins and some food and walks off, leaving him on the side of the road
2. You are inside a small inn enjoying a tankard of ale when an obviously intoxicated ( -drunk) man stumbles into you. He gestures at you rudely and tells you to watch where you’re going. What do you do?
Kildarien simply nods "Sorry sir"
The Drunk Man "You'd better be sorry or I'd teach you a lesson lad"
Kildarien turns to the man and smiles "No lesson is needed sir"
The Drunk Man nods and stumbles back to his chair
Kildarien smirks and walks to the counter to order a drink
3. You are at the market when you come upon a stall selling some particularly interesting wares. You decide to buy one, and the owner of the stall names a rather outrageous price. What do you do?
Kildarien raises an eyebrow "And you say these are good deals?"
Stall Owner nods "Of course, finest ware around and good prices too"
Kildarien sighs "The ware is decent but the prices are unbelievable"
Stall Owner "Do you have a family to take care of? No, so the price is that and it will stay that"
Kildarien glares at the man coldly "Do not bring family into this, do not try to hide behind your family for your own selfish desires. You are greedy and better treat your family and customers more politely and you will see me more then necessary."
Stall Owner looks at him fearfully "I-I um"
Kildarien nods "Good day to you sir" he turns and walks off