Minecraft Forums

Quote from godofforum

thanks for the feedback i hope to play when this comes out

Quote from godofforum

Lore Writer:
IGN: Sgt_mine213
Age (13+): 13
A sample of lore:
But for now nothing works, the planes fell out of the sky, phones, computers, car batteries, you name it, it doesn’t work now. We waited for a week for relief from the U.S. Army. It wasn't for a week until we figure that there was no U.S. Army. Governments fell and new ones rose but trust me these weren't your “Vote for...” governments it now is “Vote for... or die” governments. What was the USA is now split into the Tove Republic and Epettian Federation. What was Canada is now The State of Dcullian. I live in the Tove Republic. You know when you say you hate Obama and move on with your day, well say that about Hudhin and get you'd get shot in front of your family when you got home from work or school

Lore writing experience: 2 years

Quote from islaythemtitans

Whenever we get a reply you know lol

Quote from godofforum

Lore Writer:
IGN: Sgt_mine213
Age (13+): 13
A sample of lore:
But for now nothing works, the planes fell out of the sky, phones, computers, car batteries, you name it, it doesn’t work now. We waited for a week for relief from the U.S. Army. It wasn't for a week until we figure that there was no U.S. Army. Governments fell and new ones rose but trust me these weren't your “Vote for...” governments it now is “Vote for... or die” governments. What was the USA is now split into the Tove Republic and Epettian Federation. What was Canada is now The State of Dcullian. I live in the Tove Republic. You know when you say you hate Obama and move on with your day, well say that about Hudhin and get you'd get shot in front of your family when you got home from work or school

Lore writing experience: 2 years

Quote from islaythemtitans

Alpha/Beta Tester
IGN:Titan_Prime
Age (15+) 17
Which class do you strive for: If anything Foot-pad so i can be an assassin or ranger
Tell me about your in game character: (If nicks are allowed) i would like him to be called Zenheil, and he will be a farmer/Lumberjack + foot-pad and eventually an assassin or a ranger
Anything else: I LOVE FREAKING HEROES, this plugin is great and the fact that their is a brand new server that i can help be the first to test and use is amazing ! i Can also help with class names and professions i have used this plugin before and had 8 different professions had about the same starter tiers but different names Please let me play xD

Quote from Mateus

I'd like to apply as general staff. I am very experienced in most aspects of creating and running a server, and I'd be interested in helping in a number of areas: Building, lore writing, and administration such as plugin setup and testing.

IGN: Arisilde
Age (15+): 31
Experience in staff positions: Over the years, I have done everything from being a simple mod to running a successful server, where I created unique RPG systems using a long list of mods, world generators, and world editing utilities.
Anything that sets you apart: I am older than the average player, and thus more mature and reliable. I have years of experience developing servers. My building style is focused on realism and working with the terrain instead of destroying it to make way for buildings. I like things to look natural and believable.
Screenshots or videos: Click the link in my sig for a small sampling of my work.
What do you like to build: I like to build all sorts of things. I'm open to building pretty much whatever. I am most interested in darkly themed structures. Temples, castle, fortifications, caverns, etc. I also spend a lot of time terraforming with voxelsniper. I find attractive terrain to be almost more important than attractive buildings. I always fix the land around my buildings so that they blend well and look natural together. I'd be very interested in building and leading the Demon race.
A sample of lore: Here is a bunch of the server lore I wrote for an earlier version of the server Iriliath, which I ran for the owner and is an example of one of the extensive RPG systems I created by hand.

~ Intro ~

Iriliath is a unique RP experience, based upon tribal era technlogy and politics.

The world is set in a dense jungle (courtesy of custom terrain generation), where a new civilization dawns upon the ruins of the old. Tribes have sprung up across the jungle, each following their own ideals and their own goals. Spirits influence events across the lands, with their own personal goals. The tribes compete for limited resources and the favor of the spirits. Monster hordes roam the night, hungry for the souls of man, and the desnse jungle canopy can provide them shelter even by day. Hope is found in civilization, there is safety in numbers.

Welcome to the jungle...

?

~ The Lore ~

The void:

Once, aeons ago, there was only void. Some say the void is a dark land for the souls of the tormented, or a land of hope for the souls of the worthy. The truth however, lies in the hands of its believer. Every faith has it's own vision of the beyond, and to it's believers this is the only truth. Oddly, one fact is common in every faith. The void is the source of life. It is energy in it's rawest form that the void emanates, and this energy gives life to our world.

But there are two sides to every coin, and the void's duality is no different. What is life without death? Death is the natural conclusion to life, and through death new life can begin. The death of one nurtures the existence of another. That is the nature of the world.

Centuries ago, a civilization matured that exalted in life, and light. They shunned death, and denied it's neccessity. In their arrogance they harnessed the void's energy to lengthen their own lifespans. The balance was destroyed. Overpopulation grew rampant, and starvation took lives by the thousands. Chaos reigned. The survivors scattered into hostile groups, fighting for the last of the resources. In time there was nearly no one left. The last of the survivors scattered like ash on the wind.

Small groups of survivors established colonies and tried to remake their lives. Their descendants are what now make up the 3 tribes Renerkii, Trophilities, and Dagnar.

~ The Tribes~

The Renerkii - "Children of the Firstborn" (neutral)

The Renerkii named themselves after the original tribe and see themselves as the only true descendants of the original tribe. The tribe has a deep connection with the land, nature, and balance. They will raise their weapons if they feel that balance is threatened.

Tropholites - "The Spirit-whisperers" (life)

The Tropholites live high in the tree tops, they spend days worshipping their spirits and researching the world. They see themselves as peaceful and the only intelligent tribe, they shun others who don't share their one sided view of the jungle. The jungle belongs to the spirits, not man.

Dagnar - "The Pariahs" (death)

The Dagnar were founded by a man so tortured by life, that he grew to hate everything living. He attracted a following of like-minded outcasts that followed him into the jungle, where they settled in the ruins of an ancient Firstborn city. They make their homes in cleared out tombs, and use an old temple for their dark rituals. Over the generations, the cult's original ideals have erroded and evolved. These days, twin factions with parrallel beliefs have sprung up. The Trucido, worshippers of death's purity, and the Broken Spears who worship chaos as the natural state of nature. The Dagnar tend to keep to themselves and will punish trespassers with extreme violence.

History of the Trucido, Chaper 1.

Many years ago, a couple lived in the jungle on the outskirts of Renerkii village. The man worked a small farm, and fished to suppliment their diet. His wife dug clay from the riverbanks for making pots to sell in town. They worked hard, but somehow never managed to get ahead, and always ended up dead broke. As the years went by, the woman became discontent with their meager life. The man grew increasingly resentful of her complaints. One day, the woman decided she wanted a baby, hoping that it would cure her unhappyness and fill the void in her heart. The man was not pleased with the idea, but he relented to try and please his wife. The next year, a baby boy was born. The couple were actually happy for a time, but taking care of a child was much harder than the woman expected. There was even less food to go around, and the couple's coin chest was constantly empty. The couple fought over their problems, each blaming the other for their difficulties. They grew ever more bitter with their lives, and each other. As the boy grew, his parent's began taking their discontent out on him, as the sourch of their frustration. They hit and they yelled, and they gave him all the dirty menial tasks that they didn't want to do on their own. His life was hell.

One night, his father roughly shook him awake, and told him to get dressed. A strange, darkly dressed man was standing in the kitchen watching them with a stern frown. The boy was frightened, but he did what his father asked of him. When the boy was dressed, his father took him to the man.

"Here you are, and you're welcome to him."

The dark man pulled out a coin purse and dropped a single gold coin his the father's palm, which he quickly stashed in his pocket as if it had never been there.

"I trust you understand I expect your discression in this matter." The dark man said. "Not a word to anyone, or I'll be back. You have my word on that."

The father's eyes widened in horror. "No need for that!. I'll not tell a soul! Take the boy and good riddance!"

The dark man eyed the father disdainfully for a moment, then took the boy by the shoulder and led him away, never to see his parents or their shabby life again...

History of the Trucido, Chaper 2.

The dark man took the boy into town to a large house on a hill surrounded by a high wall, where he was pressed into slavery. The house was filled with dirty, downtrodden children rushing about doing chores and serving the twisted master of the house's every sick desire. The children would be beaten at the slightest provocation, and every now and then one would simply disappear. Once a child grew to a particular age, they would disappear as well. A new child would show up soon after each disappearance, and nothing was ever said. Every child lived in mortal fear of being called up to the masters private chambers.

Life went on, it was hellish, but the boy learned to keep his head down to avoid attention. He found that if he stayed out of the master's way life could be almost bearable. One day, the cook told the boy to carry the master's dinner tray up to him in his chambers, and snickered evily as the boy left the kitchen with his heavy tray of food. Shaking with fear, and the weight of the heavy tray, the boy slowly made his way up the winding staircase to the master's room. He knocked lightly on the door, and heard the muffled voice of the master from inside.

"Enter." He said.

The boy groped at the large metal doorknob, trying desparately to get it open without dropping the tray of food. He failed miserably. The clatter of the tray hitting the floor seemed like the loudest sound the boy had ever heard. The food splattered in every direction as if in slow motion. The boy could do nothing but look down in horror at the ruined meal. Time suddenly lurched back into motion as the master threw the door open and grabbed the boy's shirt.

"What's the meaning of this?" He shouted, shaking the boy violently. "Whats have you done?"

He dragged the boy into the room and slammed the door behind them.

"Ruin my meal will you? Ruin my floor? I'll teach you a lesson that you won't soon forget!"

He threw the boy onto the floor, and kicked him in the ribs. The boy lay gasping as the master walked over to a wardrobe against the wall, and pulled the door open. Inside hung various cruel looking devices of nefarious intent. He selected a six tailed leather whip with wicked looking metal tips, and patted it against his palm as he stolled back towards the boy, grinning menacingly.

"Yes, this will do nicely I think."

'CRACK'
The whip snaped across the boys back, splitting open his shirt and drawing blood from the skin beneith.
'CRACK CRACK CRACK'
The blows continued to rain down across the boy's torso and limbs until his clothing hangs in bloody tatters, his skin swolen and split.

The master left the boy laying in a pool of his own blood. He walked to the door, and called out to the guards.

"Get in here and get this mess cleaned up will you, and dispose of the boy."

The guard's picked the boy up off the floor, one to each arm, and carried him from the room. They took him down the stairs, and out the service exit at the back of the estate. The boy was barely conscious as they dragged him acroos the lawn and out into the jungle, where they threw him on the ground and returned to the house....

History of the Trucido, Chaper 3.

They thought that the child would die in the jungle, and he nearly did. Frightend and alone, battered and bleeding, the boy wandered benieth the trees with no real idea of what to do. He couldn't, WOULDN'T, go back to the house. There was nothing for him there. So he staggered off deeper into the trees. Night deepened, and monsters began roaming the darkness. A pack of starving zombies caught the boy's scent and converged on his location. He heard their moans before catching sight of them, and he ran. Tirelessly the rotted corpses pursued him, and he was losing hope of ever escaping them when suddenly the ground gave out beneith his feet and he fell through into a pitch black cave. He landed badly, bashing his head on a rock and losing consciousness...

He woke up to dark and warmth, with a pressure on his chest. He moved to sit up, and with a scuffle the weight and the heat suddenly vanished. The movement jarred his head, and with a moan he craddled it in his hands. His brain was screaming with pain. He had no way of knowing, but the blow to his head had done irreparable damage to his brain. He could still think and reason, but his personality was lost, his memories reduced to foggy recollections. He had no idea who or where he was.

He heard a scratching sound nearby, and something bumped against his arm. Startled, he flinched away and bumped right into a warm fuzzy body. He cried out and scrambled away until he ran into a wall, where he curled up and listened for more movement. He didn't even realize he fell asleep. When he woke, sunlight was pouring through the hole in the cave ceiling his fall had made, and furry bodies were piled in around him. His movement woke one, and it looked up at him with large luminescent eyes. The large cat purred and rubbed it's head against the boy's cheek. It was the first kind thing that had ever happened to him.

The boy, not really recognizing his difference from the cats, remained with them in their cave. They would bring back their kills to share with him. As he grew up, he began to venture out with them to hunt. He learned to capture game bare handed just like the Ocelots, and ate his kills raw just as they did. He had no notion of the need to cook his meat. He learned the cat's speed, and the cat's stealth. As he grew, his strength and speed increased dramatically due to this very physical lifestyle. His life with the cats was the first happiness he had ever felt, his bond with them grew very stronger all the time....

History of the Trucido, Chaper 4.

The young boy grew, thrived, and reached his teens. One day, his pack was out for a hunt, when suddenly chaos erupted from the trees around them. Men with nets and ropes burst out of the brush and began capturing every Ocelot in sight. The boy tried to fight them off, but there were just too many of them. While he managed to bloody a few, eventually they netted him along with his pack.

"Look wha we got 'ere!" The man holding the rope around his neck said to his cohorts.

"This'un thinks e's a furball." The men all bust into laughter.

"I figure we ought jus take'm to the boss. Might be worth something, odd as 'e is."

The poachers gathered up their catch, and hauled them back to their main camp. The boy was taken to a large tent at the center of the camp, where a big dirty man sat in a cair with a jug dangling from his hand.

"Well lads, what have you brought me this time eh? I don't see any fur on this one."

"Thinks e's a damn furball, this one does. What do you make of 'im?" said the man holding his rope, and shoved the boy forward onto the ground at the leader's feet.

The leader barely paid him any attention. "Cage him, we'll take him to town and see what we shall see eh? There's got to be someone who'll pay to laugh at this freak. We'll make a killing. When you're finished skinning those cats we'll move out. Until then, don't bother me again. Can't you see I'm drinking here?" He took a swig from his jug and waved his subordinate away with a casual gesture.

The poacher left his leader's tent with a chuckle, dragging the boy along behind him. He took the him to a tent at the other end of camp, filled with cages and the yowling complaints of imprisoned Ocelots. He pulled the boy down the row of cages, and shoved him into the last one. The cage door clanged shut, and the poacher grineed down at his captive.

"Like yer new home, freak?" He sneered. "Well get used to it, cause you ain't goin anywhere." and walked off with a laugh.

The boy huddled in the corner of his cage in dispair, not quite understanding the turn his life had taken. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, to the cries of his unhappy pack, each alone in their own cage, with their own dispair. His sleep was filled with terrible nightmares of being endlessly chased by vague black manshapes. No matter how fast he ran, how clever his evasive tricks were, they were always one step behind. He imagined he could feel their hot breath on the back of his neck as he ran for his life. His sleep brought him no rest at all...

History of the Trucido, Chaper 5.

He startled awake. At first he had no idea what had woken him, or how long he had slept. He heard a strange screeching noise. This must have been what woke him, he thought. Blearily he looked around the tent. He was still surrounded by cages, but many of them seemed to be empty now. He heard men laughing and speaking in low tones at the back of the tent and he looked their way. There were several of them, gathered around a table piled with something he couldn't quite make out. Unrecognizable dibris littered the floor around them. To their left was a large mound or something, but the light was just too dim in the tent to make out any details. the men seemed actively engaged in some task, each holding various tools and implements, or pieces of whatever was upon the table.

"Alright, we're done here. You, drag this mess out of here." He said to one of the men. "You go bring another back." He said to the another.

"The quicker we finish here the quicker we're to town, and I plan to find me a little entertainment once we're there if you know what I mean." The other men snickered.

One of the men spoken to left the table and headed down the isle of cages, past the boy, who looked on in curiosity. The other grabbed the heap off the table and headed towards the back of the tent. He threw open a flap and light flooded in, illuminating the scene around the table. The boy's curiosity turned to horror as he realised what he was looking at. The table was a gory mess of blood and meaty chunks. The pile on the floor to the left was dozens of Ocelot hides. He realized now why the cages were almost all empty, just as the man who went to the cages returned dragging an uncooperative Ocelot by a rope around it's neck. Onto the table it went, and the men grabbed it to hold it down.

"Lets get on with it then shall we?" And he took a knife to the feline's neck. As he sliced deep into the cat's neck arteries, it let out a loud screeching wail, exactly the same as what had woken him minutes before. The boy trembled with a mixture of horror, disgust, and a growing rage. How could they do this? His whole pack was dead. Forgotten memories of his hellish childhood started to surface on an instinctual level. Half rememebered impressions of thoughts and feelings without images to give them context. All he knew for sure, every contact he had ever had with men had been evil. Something snapped in his mind.

He started to scream at the top of his lungs. A wail of pure anguish and rage.

The men looked in his direction.

"Shut it, damn you!" the leader yelled. "I said shut your stinking mouth!"

The boy didn't even hear him of his own tortured voice.

The leader jabbed his finger at one of his men. "Get over there and shut that damn kid up. I can't even hear myself think over here."

The man walked over and kicked the bar's of the boy's cage. "You heard him, shut yer trap runt!" He sneered.

The boy didn't respond, his screaming continued.

"I warned you, now you've really done it." He opened the cage door and stepped in. "Last chance." He said.

The boy didn't even register his presence, he just wailed on at the top of his lungs.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." He muttered under his breath, and kicked the boy in the side of his head, knocking him out cold....

History of the Trucido, Chaper 6.

The world was rocking back and forth, and full of noise. Creaks, clanks, hooves on cobblestone, and the cluttered sound of a multitude of voices speaking at once filled the air around him. His head was pounding. It felt as though the hosts of hell had broken open a portal to our realm and began wreaking havoc on world, all inside the confines of his skull. As his awareness grew, he realized he was lying sprawled on his back, with the sun's warmth beating down upon him. He cracked open his eyes and was blinded by the bright light. It took his vision several menutes to begin adjusting. At first all he could make out were hazy, vague shapes and smeared color. Gradually his surroundings began to come into focus. He was still in his cage, but it was now being transported on the back of a flatbed cart pulled by two shabby looking mares. The cart was rolling down a cobbled avenue in a large town.

With a start he realized he knew what these things were. How was that? Everything seemed so familiar now.

His captors stopped the cart in the market square. The sheer number of people massed on one spot triggering a crushing sense of claustrophobia. He had never seen as many people in the entirety of his life as were going about their business around him at that moment. He wanted nothing more than to escape and run until he was alone, back deep in the jungle where he belonged. He got to his feet and grabbed at the cage door. Shoving, yanking, kicking, he tried everything, but to no avail. The door was firmly locked and simply would not budge.

"Damn it!" He muttered.

What's this? Words?

To be completed later...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Random:
He was born, he lived, he died. No record of his name even exists to this day, yet his life has sent echos rippling down through the ages that can't be denied. All of his experiences instilled in him a deep loathing for humanity. He belived to the very core of his being that humans are cruel and impure, living unhappy lives with empty souls. He believed with a fanatical fervor, that the world would be a much better place without the petty townsfolk, scrabbling about their lives like insects in a have. He felt that in death lay the only way they would ever find purity. Given back to the earth to nurture something more worthwhile. It would be a mercy to the world to put them all out of their misery.

That is what he tought to his followers. This is what they in turn tought to those who came after them. Over the generations, some of the core values have lost their power. Dilluted by time, retelling and the laxity of man, The cult has devolved into the simple worship of death for it's own sake, rather than for the higher purpose of acieving purity.

Quote from teaearlgrayhot

This topic is now once again open for business as is the main topic which can be found here.
http://www.minecraft...writers-needed/
Feel free to apply in either or both. Cheers,
Tea

Quote from teaearlgrayhot

Well I would like to hear your opinions, and I imagine you'd have more if you saw the server. You're welcome to post them here, or apply, or do both. Hope to hear from you again soon,
Tea

Quote from Addington

I like the look of what you've got running as of now. I do have a few things I'd like to throw at you, opinion-wise. Do I need to apply here to hop on and tell you or should I dump all the info on the thread?

Quote from takao

thanks, I will come by later