• 0

    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    In Game Name: GavenTheLegend
    Age: 20
    Gender: Male
    Timezone: -6 GMC
    Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s): All of them except for that van buren crap
    Why do you want to play on this server?: I love fallout; there is nothing else in the world like it. I enjoy immersing myself into the fallout world and its lore
    Did you read the rules?: Yes
    Have you read the lore?: Yes
    IC:
    Name: Marcus Agrippa
    Age: 30
    Gender: Male
    Character's signifying traits and attributes: Hes an average sized man with leathery brown skin and a large scar across his face running through his right eye. he walks with a slight limp.
    S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
    Strength- 5
    Perception- 5
    Endurance- 10
    Charisma- 4
    Intelligence- 7
    Agility- 4
    Luck- 5
    RP Scenario: (Use the scenario written below)
    Time: 3:18 P.M.
    Location: 27 miles South of Seattle.
    As you're walking north along a desolate highway to a few hundred meters ahead you can see 2 large black birds circling in the sky, to the east a few miles off large thunderheads can be seen. Hopeful to avoid the storm you begin to walk a bit more briskly scanning your area to find shelter from the rain. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene you can see that it is a Emerald Trading Company Caravan that has been hit, the merchant lies dead near a slaughtered Brahman blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from the cowboy repeater are scattered around the body. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his leg has been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
    Bag contents:1x 10mm Pistol7x 10mm Pistol rounds1x bottle of dirty water2x mentants1x salisbury steak1x Squirrel on a stick1x small radio (working)1x stimpak1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
    What do you do?:

    As the injured guard props himself sitting upright against the wheel, Marcus approaches and kneels next to him. The guard, breathing heavily, sees Marcus and begins to look amongst the wreckage for his weapon. Marcus reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of water and sets it in the guards lap. The guard, a little surprised, unscrews the cap and takes a large drink from the bottle. They stare at each other for a while silently.

    Guard: "Thank you, but... do you *cough* have any whiskey?"
    Marcus: "No"
    Guard: *Scoffs* "Shame... I could really go for a drink right now *laughs and then shutters in pain*"
    Marcus: "Whats your name?"
    Guard: "Scott..."
    Marcus: "Where do you come from, Scott?"
    Scott: "Seattle... *coughs*"
    Marcus: "Whered the men go who did this to you, Scott? Are they still around?"
    Scott: "No clue, never saw 'em... *coughs* Roadside bomb... looks like they came after the blast and picked us clean. They probably thought i was dead but... I just woke up... not sure how long Ive been out."

    Scott takes a drink from the bottle and stares at his leg for a while. Thunder rumbles in the distance as the storm draws near. Marcus pulls out an old first aid kit and sifts through it. Scott sighs and takes yet another large drink from the bottle.

    Scott: "Never wouldve guessed how dehydrating dying could be..."
    Marcus: "Go ahead and finish that water"
    Scott: *looks over and sees the kit* "You gotta' spare foot in there for me?"

    Marcus pulls a scalpel from the first aid kit, stands up, and bends over looking down onto Scott.

    Marcus: "I need you to think about Seattle, Scott. Think about a girl from there or something"

    Scott stares forward and says nothing.
    Marcus takes the scalpel and quickly cuts Scott across the neck from ear to ear.
    Marcus puts his belongings back into his bag and begins walking away from the storm.

    Character biography (At LEAST 2 paragraphs):


    Dear Journal,

    Before, I continue, allow me to introduce who I am, what I stand for and my purpose on this harsh post-apocalyptic world. My name is Marcus Agrippa, born and raised in Olympia, Washington also known to me as the wettest hell on earth. I was born of African American descent, which it seems, in Olympia is heavily looked down upon. The dreadful people of Olympia hate me and every same skin fellow as me, just because one persuasive moron was able to convince hundreds of other illiterate morons that the apocalypse was all the "Negro man's fault". Literally, there is a sign outside my house that says, "it's all the Negro Man's fault." The only flaw in this theory is my dad. Bronson Jim Agrippa, one of the few literate men of the village which we have accustomed ourselves to. As tradition has it, our ancestors have passed on their intelligence from family member to family member, until it finally reached me.

    I never knew my mother, or at least i dont remember her. My dad says she was one of the few good souls left in the wastes and she was apparently tough as hell too. I could never get my dad to talk about her very much and when he did it was when he drank. I knew he loved her very much and it was just difficult for him to talk about her without crying. Crying was a sign of weakness to my dad and weakness isnt something you want to show off out here. When I was very young, my dad never specified how old exactly, some tribal raiders came into our village and was stealing weapons and supplies, but never food, they took people instead. Savages. My father was away scavenging at the time, so they they took my mother instead. She didnt go down without a fight though; she hid me under the floorboards and managed to kill two of the savages with a kitchen knife before they managed to get her. My dad blamed himself for her death and, of course, everyone else blamed him too.

    Besides the racism, growing up in Olympia wasnt too bad. There was a fresh water supply from McAllister Springs which was incredibly convenient in an area surrounded by irradiated lakes and marshlands. There was the Olympic National Park to the northwest which provided plenty of food and as long as you were smart about containing the meat smell, no Yao Guai would follow your group back. Unfortunately thats exactly what happened after an expedition that my dad was apart of and, of course, he was blamed for it. A whole pack came into our village and terrorized us for days, killing dozens of people and all of our brahmin. After four days of hiding in our home and being pushed to the brink of dehydration and starvation, my dad decided to try something risky. He handed me his compass and as he drifted for the door he quoted, "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose son." Afterword he cut himself across his chest and pushed the sides of his wound so blood would gush, then he stepped outside and shouted toward the Yao Guai and ran out of the village. I'd never seen anyone run so fast in my life and I never saw him again after that day. I decided there was nothing left for me in my village and left a few weeks later.

    I followed the caravan route that took me through small towns leading up from Olympia. With the caps I stored from home I decided to buy some new gear and food for my travels. But my feeling of safety from my new gear quickly diminished, as right before my eyes I saw a group of men in massive, shiny armor. I had to get a closer look! As I approached the fully-suited creatures, I blacked-out. When I awoke I was in a warm bed with an ice pack over my head. "What's going on? Where am I?" As my vision became clear I noticed a dark figure slowly approaching me, I began to think of the people in that dark metallic armor. "How are you felling, son?" echoed the man's voice down the hall. "No answer, that's ok, sonny, you took a nasty fall on my fake floor trap." I was puzzled "But good thing though, those men you were approaching would have taken you captive." Struggling, I sat up on the bed, and after a thorough conversation with the man, I learned that I had finally reached the outskirts of Seattle. The man that saved me was William Jones, a 60 year old NCR veteran, who had established a comfy retirement home. I used his house as a temporary "base" until I could get a foothold out here in Seattle. Now, I sit with compass in left hand, pen in the right, staring at my dad's quote, in which I discovered was encrypted on the first page, thinking, "what's next?"


    "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose."

    Sincerely, Marcus Agrippa





    Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it
    Posted in: PC Servers
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    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    Quote from LovelyBunni»
    Denied - Re-read the rules and add to your backstory.





    I added the line from the rules already. And im a little surprised 4 paragraphs arent good enough when the requirement is 2. This will be my last attempt.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    In Game Name: GavenTheLegend
    Age: 20
    Gender: Male
    Timezone: -6 GMC
    Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s): All of them except for that van buren crap
    Why do you want to play on this server?: I love fallout; there is nothing else in the world like it. I enjoy immersing myself into the fallout world and its lore
    Did you read the rules?: Yes
    Have you read the lore?: Yes
    IC:
    Name: Marcus Agrippa
    Age: 30
    Gender: Male
    Character's signifying traits and attributes: Hes an average sized man with leathery brown skin and a large scar across his face running through his right eye. he walks with a slight limp.
    S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
    Strength- 5
    Perception- 5
    Endurance- 10
    Charisma- 4
    Intelligence- 7
    Agility- 4
    Luck- 5
    RP Scenario: (Use the scenario written below)
    Time: 3:18 P.M.
    Location: 27 miles South of Seattle.
    As you're walking north along a desolate highway to a few hundred meters ahead you can see 2 large black birds circling in the sky, to the east a few miles off large thunderheads can be seen. Hopeful to avoid the storm you begin to walk a bit more briskly scanning your area to find shelter from the rain. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene you can see that it is a Emerald Trading Company Caravan that has been hit, the merchant lies dead near a slaughtered Brahman blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from the cowboy repeater are scattered around the body. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his leg has been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
    Bag contents:1x 10mm Pistol7x 10mm Pistol rounds1x bottle of dirty water2x mentants1x salisbury steak1x Squirrel on a stick1x small radio (working)1x stimpak1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
    What do you do?:

    As the injured guard props himself sitting upright against the wheel, Marcus approaches and kneels next to him. The guard, breathing heavily, sees Marcus and begins to look amongst the wreckage for his weapon. Marcus reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of water and sets it in the guards lap. The guard, a little surprised, unscrews the cap and takes a large drink from the bottle. They stare at each other for a while silently.

    Guard: "Thank you, but... do you *cough* have any whiskey?"
    Marcus: "No"
    Guard: *Scoffs* "Shame... I could really go for a drink right now *laughs and then shutters in pain*"
    Marcus: "Whats your name?"
    Guard: "Scott..."
    Marcus: "Where do you come from, Scott?"
    Scott: "Seattle... *coughs*"
    Marcus: "Whered the men go who did this to you, Scott? Are they still around?"
    Scott: "No clue, never saw 'em... *coughs* Roadside bomb... looks like they came after the blast and picked us clean. They probably thought i was dead but... I just woke up... not sure how long Ive been out."

    Scott takes a drink from the bottle and stares at his leg for a while. Thunder rumbles in the distance as the storm draws near. Marcus pulls out an old first aid kit and sifts through it. Scott sighs and takes yet another large drink from the bottle.

    Scott: "Never wouldve guessed how dehydrating dying could be..."
    Marcus: "Go ahead and finish that water"
    Scott: *looks over and sees the kit* "You gotta' spare foot in there for me?"

    Marcus pulls a scalpel from the first aid kit, stands up, and bends over looking down onto Scott.

    Marcus: "I need you to think about Seattle, Scott. Think about a girl from there or something"

    Scott stares forward and says nothing.
    Marcus takes the scalpel and quickly cuts Scott across the neck from ear to ear.
    Marcus puts his belongings back into his bag and begins walking away from the storm.

    Character biography (At LEAST 2 paragraphs):


    Dear Journal,

    Before, I continue, allow me to introduce who I am, what I stand for and my purpose on this harsh post-apocalyptic world. My name is Marcus Agrippa, born and raised in Olympia, Washington also known to me as the wettest hell on earth. I was born of African American descent, which it seems, in Olympia is heavily looked down upon. The dreadful people of Olympia hate me and every same skin fellow as me, just because one persuasive moron was able to convince hundreds of other illiterate morons that the apocalypse was all the "Negro man's fault". Literally, there is a sign outside my house that says, "it's all the Negro Man's fault." The only flaw in this theory is my dad. Bronson Jim Agrippa, one of the few literate men of the town of which we have accustomed ourselves to. As tradition has it, our ancestors have passed on their intelligence from family member to family member, until it finally reached me.

    Besides the racism, growing up in Olympia wasnt too bad. There was a fresh water supply from McAllister Springs which was incredibly convenient in an area surrounded by irradiated lakes and marshlands. There was the Olympic National Park to the northwest which provided plenty of food and as long as you were smart about containing the meat smell, no Yao Guai would follow your group back. Unfortunately thats exactly what happened after an expedition that my dad was apart of and, of course, he was blamed for it. A whole pack came into our village and terrorized us for days, killing dozens of people and all of our brahmin. After four days of hiding in our home and being pushed to the brink of dehydration and starvation, my dad decided to try something risky. He handed me his compass and as he drifted for the door he quoted, "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose son." Afterword he cut himself across his chest and pushed the sides of his wound so blood would gush, then he stepped outside and shouted toward the Yao Guai and ran out of the village. I'd never seen anyone run so fast in my life and I never saw him again after that day. I decided there was nothing left for me in my village and left a few weeks later.

    Now that the introduction is over, let me discuss why I have decided to start writing this. This journal, that's on my desk as i write was given to me from my dad. I was North bound for Seattle. I followed the caravan route that took me through small towns leading up from Olympia. With the caps I stored from home I decided to buy some new gear and food for my travels. But my feeling of safety from my new gear quickly diminished, as right before my eyes I saw a group of men in massive, shiny armor. I had to get a closer look! As I approached the fully-suited creatures, I blacked-out. When I awoke I was in a warm bed with an ice pack over my head. "What's going on?" "Where am I?"

    As my vision became clear I noticed a dark figure slowly approaching me, I began to think of the people in that dark metallic armor. "How are you felling, son?" echoed the man's voice down the hall. "No answer, that's ok, sonny, you took a nasty fall on my fake floor trap." I was puzzled "But good thing though, those men you were approaching would have taken you captive." Struggling, I sat up on the bed, and after a thorough conversation with the man, I learned that I had finally reached the outskirts of Seattle. The man that saved me was William Jones, a 60 year old NCR veteran, who had established a comfy retirement home. I used his house as a temporary "base" until I could get a foothold out here in Seattle. Now, I sit with compass in left hand, pen in the right, staring at my dad's quote, in which I discovered was encrypted on the first page, thinking, "what's next?"

    "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose."

    Sincerely, Marcus Agrippa





    Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    I know what your talking about too. I cant believe I forgot to put it on there lol
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    In Game Name: GavenTheLegend
    Age: 20
    Gender: Male
    Timezone: -6 GMC
    Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s): All of them except for that van buren crap
    Why do you want to play on this server?: I love fallout; there is nothing else in the world like it. I enjoy immersing myself into the fallout world and its lore
    Did you read the rules?: Yes
    Have you read the lore?: Yes
    IC:
    Name: Marcus Agrippa
    Age: 30
    Gender: Male
    Character's signifying traits and attributes: Hes an average sized man with leathery brown skin and a large scar across his face running through his right eye. he walks with a slight limp.
    S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
    Strength- 5
    Perception- 5
    Endurance- 10
    Charisma- 4
    Intelligence- 7
    Agility- 4
    Luck- 5
    RP Scenario: (Use the scenario written below)
    Time: 3:18 P.M.
    Location: 27 miles South of Seattle.
    As you're walking north along a desolate highway to a few hundred meters ahead you can see 2 large black birds circling in the sky, to the east a few miles off large thunderheads can be seen. Hopeful to avoid the storm you begin to walk a bit more briskly scanning your area to find shelter from the rain. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene you can see that it is a Emerald Trading Company Caravan that has been hit, the merchant lies dead near a slaughtered Brahman blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from the cowboy repeater are scattered around the body. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his leg has been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
    Bag contents:1x 10mm Pistol7x 10mm Pistol rounds1x bottle of dirty water2x mentants1x salisbury steak1x Squirrel on a stick1x small radio (working)1x stimpak1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
    What do you do?:

    As the injured guard props himself sitting upright against the wheel, Marcus approaches and kneels next to him. The guard, breathing heavily, sees Marcus and begins to look amongst the wreckage for his weapon. Marcus reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of water and sets it in the guards lap. The guard, a little surprised, unscrews the cap and takes a large drink from the bottle. They stare at each other for a while silently.

    Guard: "Thank you, but... do you *cough* have any whiskey?"
    Marcus: "No"
    Guard: *Scoffs* "Shame... I could really go for a drink right now *laughs and then shutters in pain*"
    Marcus: "Whats your name?"
    Guard: "Scott..."
    Marcus: "Where do you come from, Scott?"
    Scott: "Seattle... *coughs*"
    Marcus: "Whered the men go who did this to you, Scott? Are they still around?"
    Scott: "No clue, never saw 'em... *coughs* Roadside bomb... looks like they came after the blast and picked us clean. They probably thought i was dead but... I just woke up... not sure how long Ive been out."

    Scott takes a drink from the bottle and stares at his leg for a while. Thunder rumbles in the distance as the storm draws near. Marcus pulls out an old first aid kit and sifts through it. Scott sighs and takes yet another large drink from the bottle.

    Scott: "Never wouldve guessed how dehydrating dying could be..."
    Marcus: "Go ahead and finish that water"
    Scott: *looks over and sees the kit* "You gotta' spare foot in there for me?"

    Marcus pulls a scalpel from the first aid kit, stands up, and bends over looking down onto Scott.

    Marcus: "I need you to think about Seattle, Scott. Think about a girl from there or something"

    Scott stares forward and says nothing.
    Marcus takes the scalpel and quickly cuts Scott across the neck from ear to ear.
    Marcus puts his belongings back into his bag and begins walking away from the storm.

    Character biography (At LEAST 2 paragraphs):


    Dear Journal,

    Before, I continue, allow me to introduce who I am, what I stand for and my purpose on this harsh post-apocalyptic world. My name is Marcus Agrippa, born and raised in Olympia, Washington also known to me as the wettest hell on earth. I was born of African American descent, which it seems, in Olympia is heavily looked down upon. The dreadful people of Olympia hate me and every same skin fellow as me, just because one persuasive moron was able to convince hundreds of other illiterate morons that the apocalypse was all the "Negro man's fault". Literally, there is a sign outside my house that says, "it's all the Negro Man's fault." The only flaw in this theory is my dad. Bronson Jim Agrippa, one of the few literate men of the town of which we have accustomed ourselves to. As tradition has it, our ancestors have passed on their intelligence from family member to family member, until it finally reached me.

    Now that the introduction is over, let me discuss why I have decided to start writing this. This journal, that's on my desk as i write was given to me from my dad just before I left Olympia. He also handed me a compass and as I drifted for the door he quoted, "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose son." I was North bound for Seattle. I followed the caravan route that took me through small towns leading up from Olympia. With the caps I stored from home I decided to buy some new gear and food for my travels. But my feeling of safety from my new gear quickly diminished, as right before my eyes I saw a group of men in massive, shiny armor. I had to get a closer look! As I approached the fully-suited creatures, I blacked-out. When I awoke I was in a warm bed with an ice pack over my head. "What's going on?" "Where am I?"

    As my vision became clear I noticed a dark figure slowly approaching me, I began to think of the people in that dark metallic armor. "How are you felling, son?" echoed the man's voice down the hall. "No answer, that's ok, sonny, you took a nasty fall on my fake floor trap." I was puzzled "But good thing though, those men you were approaching would have taken you captive." Struggling, I sat up on the bed, and after a thorough conversation with the man, I learned that I had finally reached the outskirts of Seattle. The man that saved me was William Jones, a 60 year old NCR veteran, who had established a comfy retirement home. I used his house as a temporary "base" until I could get a foothold out here in Seattle. Now, I sit with compass in left hand, pen in the right, staring at my dad's quote, in which I discovered was encrypted on the first page, thinking, "what's next?"

    "A true hero, is a smart hero, don't die without a purpose."

    Sincerely, Marcus Agrippa
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on THE WAYWARD ONES [PLAYER-DRIVEN-STORY] [EXTENSIVE LORE] [CUSTOM PLUGINS]
    Thank you. I look forward to RPing with you
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on FALLOUT: ECHOES OF MANKIND - A SERIOUS FALLOUT RP SERVER [REAL-LIFE LOCATIONS] [SERIOUS RP] Closed
    Hey TealMua5, remember me from project manhattan? I was wondering if I could lend a hand if you needed some help
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on THE WAYWARD ONES [PLAYER-DRIVEN-STORY] [EXTENSIVE LORE] [CUSTOM PLUGINS]
    Quote from olympcoves

    Yes, you're right. Great shape does not mean muscular or great strength. Did anywhere in my latest deferral say your character was way too strong or have an amazing gift of strength? I recognize the fact that you may have said he was in excellent shape for his age. However, you did not clarify at all. Instead you said 'Duhrvinar is in great shape, as hes been his entire life.' and I interpreted that as 'Duhrvinar is in great shape, like he's always been' and believed you meant to say that he's still in the same shape as he was 30 years ago, minus the belly. You have to be more specific and clarify sentences like those. And to address the alcohol conundrum, being drunk does not make you stronger. Neither does being full of rage. All it does is it simply reduces pain reception due to the increased blood flow. You could do what you did when you're drunk when you're sober, but your brain is smart enough to say no and you'd be able to feel the pain.

    When you put it that way, you could have said that he has the will to go through harsh adversity and trudge on, while still realizing the fact that life will end and not being overcome by the fear of it. Because there wasn't much detail in the biography, I suspected he has just gone through situations where he accepted his fate, but somehow did not. Since there wasn't much context to go with, I just went with how it was written.

    With that said, you've made it easier for yourself to better clarify and fix the reasons for a deferral. I have definitely brought up more points about the application that you could have improved upon, but I will let it slide. Again, this is still your last chance. Good luck.


    lol doesnt sound like youve ever been in a drunken fist fight. Dont worry, its nothing to be proud of. I guess it doesnt technically make you stronger but whatever, you know what I mean.

    I just made my final revisions. I hope my poor writing skills dont sever me from the community Ive been RPing with for the past two years.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on THE WAYWARD ONES [PLAYER-DRIVEN-STORY] [EXTENSIVE LORE] [CUSTOM PLUGINS]
    I think you misunderstand "great shape". Nowhere did I say "muscular" or "great strength" besides him having a the six-pack on the skin which I agreed was out of place and removed it. He exhibited strength in the Tavern IC example because he was in a drunken rage that didnt last very long. Any man can gain strength when they combine rage and liqueur. A man of his age in a medieval/fantasy setting would most likely be crippled or sick and dieing. Great shape for his age means hes not laying in his death bed. I added the belly to match his drinking habits, not to further confuse the meaning of "great shape".

    And concerning the bravery dilemma, what I meant was that he had not expected to survive certain things in his life; Freezing cold all year round during childhood, going to war (Hes never had training in warfare), maybe even nearly dieing in his own lumber mill.
    He has embraced his death so many times that he has become numb to the fear and believes he is living on borrowed time anyways.
    Not to mention his deep regrets that occasionally make him feel that he doesnt belong in the world.

    Please consider what Ive said here so that I wont have editing my app again.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on THE WAYWARD ONES [PLAYER-DRIVEN-STORY] [EXTENSIVE LORE] [CUSTOM PLUGINS]
    My app has been edited and is ready for review
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on THE WAYWARD ONES [PLAYER-DRIVEN-STORY] [EXTENSIVE LORE] [CUSTOM PLUGINS]
    IGN: GavenTheLegend


    Do you wish to join our community Skype chat? If so, what is your Skype username? GavenTheLegend


    Have you read and agreed to both the rules and the lore of the server?: Yes


    What is the definition of “Powergaming”?: Forcing actions on other characters or making a situation so that only your character win


    What is the definition of “Metagaming”?: The usage of OOC knowledge while gaming


    What is the definition of “Roleplay”?: To act out the role of a character from a specific situation


    Who can use flymod, X-ray and other such clientsided mods?: No one


    When are you allowed to cause the death of another character?: When iit is consented by the other player


    When are you allowed to speak out of character?: Rarely, only when needed. Use ((double brackets))


    Do you have any previous RP experience, Minecraft or elsewhere? Ive played in numerous fallout RP servers. Ive also played in SoTA and TAC with many of you. Although ive been very busy with real life during the last two servers.



    Character Information


    Name: Duhrvinar Barristan


    Age: 58 (born 1256)


    Class: Woodsman/beserker (Not saying hes a good fighter. But he is prone to drunken rage fits)


    Physical description: Duhrvinar is an older man with scars both physically an mentally. He may be aged but he still stands up straight and looks as though he is still capable of swinging his axe. He is most distictive by his white, braided beard and large frame.


    Screen capture of your skin:

    Biography (Minimum 300 words. No clichés such as loved one being killed by robbers or the like.):


    (gawd im awful at these)

    Duhrvinar was born in the mountains in a time when the mountain clans hadnt fully unified and was still just groups of exiled families and outcasts. He never knew his father and his mother was a *****, but he did not love her any less for it. His mother did what she had to in order to feed herself. Growing up in the mountain clans was difficult, having to constantly survive wild animals, bandit raids, and most lethal of all, the cold. During Duhrvinars teenage years the confederacy was just starting to get organized. He became a major contributer to the growth of his village by clearing trees, building huts/houses, and expanding territories which earned the respect of many mountain folk.

    When Duhrvinar reached adulthood, he felt a burning desire to leave home and experience something other than the monotonous life of daily work. He ended up joining with the rebellion and "fighting the Empiricals". Although "fighting the Empiricals" consisting mostly of him and the other mountain rebels raiding and pillaging small Empirical towns and villages. Actual battles with Empirical troops didnt happen as often as he'll tell people. Ultimately he joined up with a mercenary clan that ended up being hired by the Guyrese Amry as a vanguard force in a large-scale battle with the Empiricals near the end of the Guyrese/Emperical war; This was the last battle Duhrvinar ever fought in and the most mentally traumatising for him.

    After having fought in the war for nearly twenty years, Duhrvinar became an old, bitter, scarred man and everyone he considered brothers dead or crippled from war. He ended up staying in Guyre for a few years working in a lumber mill and eventually moved to Braxia after hearing about new lands being colonized. He merely wishes to start a new life regardless of his age and forget his past so that he may die in peace when the time comes.



    What is your character’s main goal? (Motivation): To life a more noble life than he had in his adulthood and be remembered as an hornorable person after he finally dies.


    Strengths (Both physical and personality): Duhrvinar is in great shape for an old man. Duhrvinar is a hard worker. He is also incredibly brave as he has no fear of losing his life.


    Weaknesses (Balance out yours character's strengths with suitable weaknesses: Duhrvinar is an alchoholic; drinking away his past whenever given the opportunity. Duhrvinar is not as spry as he used to be; hes old and suffers from many a past injury. He suffers from a sort of PTSD which causes him to have severe mood swings; he can go from a rage fit to bursting out into laughter in seconds.



    In-Character-Responses (ICRs. For each scenario, write at least a paragraph describing entirely in-character how your character would respond to the situation. Your ICRs will be used to see how well you can RP. Please post them as if in IC chat. An example can be found after this form.)


    Due a recent accident, you wander the dark quiet streets of the town with a broken ankle trying to make your way home:


    (1304) Duhrvinar is in the streets of Guyre limping home at night after being injured at his job at the lumber mill. While walking his pockets jingle from the coin earned during the day. The sound of coin and sight of an injured old man attracts some nearby thugs to Duhrvinar.

    Thug1: "Oi! watcha got der old man? Sounds like sometin' shiny to meeee!..."
    Thug2: "Hmmm, coins are shiny, huh bawss? hehehehe"
    *Duhrvinar keeps walking while not even looking at the thugs*
    Thug1: "Are you deaf too? Or just stupid?... Cmere ye old fool"
    *Thug reaches out and grabs Duhrvinar by the arms*
    *Duhrvinar struggles to free himself from the thugs grasp.*
    *Thug2 begins to punch Duhrvinar in the face and ribs.*
    Duhrvinar: *Guards! Help! Someone! Help me!*
    Thug2: "Oh look, he CAN talk! hehehe..."
    *Thug2 punches Duhrvinar in the mouth a few times while Thug1 holds him*
    *Duhrvinar manages to wrestle Thug1 onto the ground and while holding Thug1 by his elbow and wrist and pushes into his forearm with his knee until a gruesome "KREEEUUNCH!" is heard*
    Thug1: "AAAAAARRRGGHHH!! MY- MY ARM!! AAAAAHHHHGGG!! YOU BROKE MY ARM!!"
    *Guards come running down the street*
    Thug2" Lets just get out of here, bawss!!"
    *The thugs run down an alley well before the guards arrive*
    *Duhrvinar passes out in the street from exhuastion*


    In a tavern, a stranger threatens you to fight him/her:


    (1306) Duhrvinar is at a tavern drinking heavily at a table in the corner when another man who had been drinking heavily aproaches him.

    Drunkard: "You know, old man, my mother used to braid my sisters hair the same way yours is braided... HAHAHAHA!!"
    *Duhvinar simply puts his hand against the drunks face and pushes him away with some serious force, almost knocking the drunk down.*
    *The drunk recovers and puts his fists up*
    Drunkard: "Come on, then! Fight me like a man!"
    *Duhrvinar ignores him and sips from his cup*
    *The Drunk reaches over and snaches the drink from Duhrvinar and pours in over Duhrvinars head*
    *Duhrvinar stands and flips his table revealing his work axe that had been sitting in his lap and holds it over his head*
    Drunkard: *sobering up very quickly* "Whoa! whoa! whoa! whoa! Calm dow-"
    *Durvinar swings his axe down and barely misses the drunk*
    *The Drunk begins to back away to the other side of the tavern knocking chairs down into Duhvinars path to him and picking up one chair to defend himself with*
    *Duhrvinar kicks the chairs out of his way and shatters the drunkards chair into splinters while cutting off two of the drunkard's fingers all in one swing*

    The rest of the men in the tavern intervene and mange to get the axe out of Duhrvinars hands and subdue him until some guards come to pick him up. Duhrvinar spends the next few nights in a cell.


    Your superior asks for a favour you would have problem doing:


    (1288) Duhrvinar is out on his first raid with other mountain men. They have just finished killing the "emperical soldiers" (a few town guards and some men with gardening tools) and are awaiting further instruction from their commander.

    Mountain Man Commander: "Alright boys, do what ye want with the women, tie up the children and load them onto the wagon, and after ye picked the place clean of gold and food, burn whats left down to the ground!"

    The mountain rebels cheer and shout for moment before going out commiting terrible acts of violence. Duhrvinar hesitates for a while, watching as the people he called brothers go and do awful things to innocent people. And after a long wait by the wagon, he began to get teased by his "brothers" calling him a coward and soft skin. Eventually Duhrvinar caves in from the peer pressure and manages to ignore his emotions and morals. He then goes back into the town and begins a career of horrors that will huant him fo the rest of his life.


    Lore Questions


    List three causes for the fall of the Empiracle:

    The Great Dividing War.
    Vaerdezzio seceding form the Empire.
    Failed currency.



    Who is proposing an expedition to the western lands?:

    Overlord Rauric III of Braxia.


    Where is the expedition to be launched from?:
    Roland's Field



    Questions or comments?:

    Should I have mentioned the SECRET UNDERGROUND MELON FARM? I feel like its still
    relevant
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on The Manhattan Project - Closed - New Project
    Quote from Dualmittens

    We probably should. I have a rough draft of the Pitt Raiders lore, so ill put that up in a second.
    Thanks for all the help everyone!


    My rough draft? :3
    Posted in: Server Recruitment
  • 0

    posted a message on Shrines of the Ancients Roleplay [RP][Factions][Player-Driven Story]
    Looking forward to an event this weekend :3
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on Shrines of the Ancients Roleplay [RP][Factions][Player-Driven Story]
    Quote from Jidek

    Accepted:

    Ultratuck98 - Thank you for addressing the issues, welcome to the server. Sorry for a late response, I have a ton of school work tonight :(


    Lies! He just had trouble getting to his keyboard because he was neck-deep in women
    Posted in: PC Servers
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