-Minecraft IGN: mkozmava
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): lmao nah
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? No, I am very new.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Forcing your own actions onto another character, minimizing their freedom
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using OOC knowledge IC
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: Assuming a role of a character similar or dissimilar to you that is not you.
-Character name: Gilbert the Melon Farmer
-Character race: Complete homo-sapien
-Character gender: He's a guy
-Character age: He's pretty old, at least 50.
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. This more or less helps us to better understand your characters starting skill set): Experienced melon farmer
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.):
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.):
Gilbert is a jolly old man. He's lived his life just going with the flow, never once really experiencing any major conflict within himself. He's a placid man both in his youth and old age, and prefers to make friends rather than enemies. He'll try to view people in the best of light as possible, even those most view as evil or dastardly. He's a pacifist and refuses to act with violent intentions. He treats most everyone with respect after having learned that respect is one of the most important things one can give. He enjoys morning and evening strolls as many old folk do. As a melon farmer, Gilbert loves melons and all their varieties. He knows a thing or two about farming after his years of experience, and though he seldom gives his wisdom as in his mind he is still a novice of sorts.
-Character biography (At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Quite a while ago, a pregnant woman fell into labor in a small village on the edge of a valley. It was a quiet town, so every birth was celebrated. After nine tedious hours, Gilbert emerged from his mother's womb. Thus began his story, one that most wouldn't recite at a tavern. As a boy, Gilbert grew up like any other. He learned how to sow the fields and plant the grain, and in his free time he played hoop and stick with the other local boys. It was a quaint living, and one Gilbert very much enjoyed. He wasn't one for ornaments or the fancy things in life. Instead, the young boy preferred the solace brought by nature and humility. That all changed one day when he was 12.
Gilbert had to make a decision that could change his life. It was a manner of death, or life, except it wasn't a matter of death at all. A travelling merchant toured the village one day on his way to the village of Maldines. He was peddling his wares. Most of which were trinkets and worthless, but to the citizens of his tiny, backwoods village, they were the most amazing devices imaginable. He had compasses, he had rudimentary clocks, he had tiny crossbow-type toys. These things amazed the young Gilbert, but they weren't the apple of his eye. That role took form in the succulent, moist melons he had to sell. The boy became entranced with the hydrating goodness, and immediately knew what to dedicate his craft to. He was to become the best melon farmer in his regional area.
He worked tirelessly during the days trying to grow melons in a small plot of land his father let him use. It was his practice, he thought. Soon he'd be the owner of a plantation spawning acres with naught but melons growing in the fertile soil. He still conversed with his friends and even had a spot of love in his youth, but none of that was permanent. Friends moved or died, and love faded out, but melons and the soil would be with him forever.
In his early twenties, and after a bought of tuberculosis ravaged the village, he took over a large swath of land. His father and a few of his neighbors passed away, leaving a nice chunk of soil with no owner. Gilbert was quick to claim it as his own. He grew as many melons as he could as quick as he could, working day and night to ensure the plumpest fruits in all the land. It was his pride and joy, more important than even his home or his safety. He grew and grew for years, becoming renowned in his county as the prime melon man of Maldines. He felt a certain pride as men and women would flock to his farms to consume his meaty melons. He kept at this for years and years. Legends grew around him such as, "I heard back in the day he grew cantaloupes as big as an ass!" or "His watermelons grow for at least three years before being harvested!"
The days passed and the seasons changed, but Gilbert always had his melons. He had tossed love and wealth to the side to care for the fruits of his labor. One on beautiful, sunny day, Gilbert arose out of his bed and had himself a nice melony breakfast. As he gazed out the window, he witnessed a sight no nightmare could even possibly contain. A being so normal, so generic strolled past his farms, destroying all Gilbert held dear. He ran out into the fields just as his melons withered away, dying a death they were not meant for. His legs buckled beneath him as he viewed the destruction. He couldn't stay, not in a place where death incarnate roamed. Though he was no longer as spirited as he was in his youth, Gilbert mustered up the strength to stand and gather what little amount of possessions he had. He took some spare clothes, some dry bread, and some spoiled water and departed his home that he grew up in. It took him a few years of wandering aimlessly away from his home before a realization hit him. It occured in his dreams. A deity of some sort spoke to him, or at least he thought so. He was bequeathed with a mission so specific and awe-inspiring that he could not refuse. He was to grow the largest melon the world had ever seen. A melon so big and beautiful, that no devil could wither it away. With newfound optimism, the elder Gilbert began his voyage towards the town of Barkamsted in search of new life.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
The elder Gilbert would appear shocked for but a moment before a gentle smile crossed his face. What would he use that coin for? Frivolities he did not need? Nay, that child must have more use. He was a sickly thing, he must be hungry. The Gilbert would pat his cane a little before heading off in the direction he was going. He hoped that the child would make good use of the coin and feed himself. He payed no more attention to the child. He knew hunger, and understood the child. There was nothing more to it.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
Upon noticing the wolf, thoughts of distress flooded his mind. What a poor thing, he thought. Gilbert would approach slowly with his arms raised and with no ill intent. The beast would growl, even snap at the old man as he grew near. Gilbert waited until the wolf was placid to fall within the wolf's reach. He'd whisper a gentle "Shh" as he brought his hand near the bear trap. The wolf snapped once more, almost taking off his right hand. He slowly attempted once more to disarm the trap without the mother's intervention. It took him a moment or two to remove the trap, and once the action was complete, Gilbert would back off quickly. He'd allow the wolf to depart along with her cubs. It wasn't his right to take a life, even if that life was an animal. Gilbert would let out a sigh of accomplishment before resuming his trek towards the city, ready for whatever business he had there.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):