[✔] [Accepted] Critsy's Application

[Gallic 1066]

What’s your Minecraft Account Name?:

Gallic

 

How old are you?:

I am 19 years old, to be twenty in a little more than a month.

 

Are you aware the server is PG-13 (You won’t be denied for being under 13):

Yes I am.

 

Have you applied to this server before?:

I have not.

 

Have you read and agreed to the rules?:

I did. I promise.

 

What’s the rule you agree with the most?:

 

A villain’s duty is to provide fun roleplay for other people through conflict.

 

 

Are there any rule(s) that confuse you or don’t make sense?:

Perhaps not confusion, but you repeated two rules in the Roleplaying Rules.

 

How did you find out about Lord of the Craft?

I was curious about roleplaying on Minecraft, and considering you're highly acclaimed and popular, you seemed like a perfectly fine candidate. On further research, I made my choice to try here first.

 

Definitions

 

What is roleplaying?:

It's like playing pretend for fully grown adults It's the chance to forge a story, to indulge in a tale you won't get anywhere else. To take part in a world far from your own.

 

What is metagaming?:

Being a spoilsport The heinous act of taking information, actions or advantages that your character has no worldly business partaking in.

 

What is powergaming?:

Being more concerned with your own fun than that of others Taking actions for or against a character without providing any way for them to respond or react, resulting in things going the way you want. Alternatively, it is also to make your character far more powerful than they reasonably should be. Another way to powergame is playing to win at something, not just to roleplay.

 

In-Character Information

 

Character’s name:

Oliver Gallic

 

Character’s gender:

Male

 

Character’s race:

Human (Highlander)

 

Character’s age:

18 years, just young enough to still have hope of learning a trade.

 

Biography:

Oliver is a poor man, young and teetering on the unhealthy side of slim. His eyes betray a sullen determination. He keeps a quiet, respectful demeanour, always gentle in tone. He sounds like if he were to raise his voice, it wouldn't be very impressive. Just not that kind of voice.

 

Oliver lacks any kind of home, or lord. He is a serf without a master- A new urchin feeding off of Pertus' hard-earned streets. Uneducated. Illiterate. The colloquialism of a yokel. But, his parents raised him right, at least. He never fusses, never steals, never begs. He has a natural intelligence about him, the kind that doesn't need study or books... But would still greatly benefit from them.

 

How he managed to find himself here is a long story, but the jist is easily coaxed from him.

 

Oliver was born into the backwoods of Oren, quite a walk away from any major settlements. His father was a hunter by trade, and his mother bore children. Or, perhaps she would, but she had only managed the one. As Oliver passed from her, he had ruptured some mystical female organ inside of her, resulting in tremendous blood loss. As it had happened, their midwife was revealed to be an errant fraud, incapable of handling this sort of occurance. His mother died not half way to a settlement where one may be able to help. He was left an only child, with a single parent.

 

Taking care of a child had left his father incapable of regularly hunting, resulting in a long, difficult period of poverty that they were never really able to escape. The meager income of a hunter's life is only confounded by hunger and childcare. Oliver grew in a loving, strict household, but hungry and uneducated. As he began reaching maturity, he displayed hints of some kind of magical aptitude, which only served to put more stress on his father. Though things had gotten better as he was old enough to take care of himself at home, they were in no financial situation to provide that sort of education, or even an apprenticeship.

 

Motherless, poor, uneducated, starving, and posessing some kind of magical potential that could never be touched on.

 

Though it would seem misery was rife in Oliver's life, keep in mind that his life had never been any different. He didn't suffer from the loss of his mother. He never even saw her. He has never known luxury to know what it is to be denied it. He has grown to know hunger quite well as a fact of life. It only served to bring a different kind of excitement when food is on the table.

 

But, he did have two things. His father, and their dog.

 

Things were tense in the kingdom of Oren. Oliver was near the age of fourteen, just beginning to learn to hunt with his father. With two pairs of eyes on the hunt, things were looking up. Or so they thought. The man and his child often went quite far on their hunting trips, sometimes even meeting the border of their kingdom. There, where parties of elves often fought against the occupation of humans by taking the fight to their homeland. One evening, their timing had a grim precision to it- As Oliver and his father wandered looking for scarce game, they had come upon an elven party instead.

 

His father never made it out of those woods, but Oliver did. He came home, took their dog, and fled home. After what he had witnessed, he remains traumatized by most weapons to this day- Though, not as irrationally so as it was when the wound was still fresh.

 

For several years, he wandered with his hound learning harsh lessons about life without his father's guidance. There was nobody left to teach him, and he was left to seek his own way to put bread on the table. Things were hard for Oliver. They never got any better. But, after the hardships he had experienced already, he remained emotionally healthy for the most part. After his father's death had faded out of recent memory, of course.

 

His dog died an unnatural death by his hands. He was too sick to travel, and Oliver didn't want to simply abandon him. It was very difficult, but not traumatizing.

 

Personality Traits:

- Light Pacifist. Has an aversion toward weaponry and blood, so tends to avoid them. But, he could be persuaded to use them... After a long argument.

- Humbled. Life rife with poverty and tragedy tends to shape both the worst and best souls from humans.

- Quiet. He hates to intrude upon other people's conversations.

- Intelligent, but uneducated. The potential is there, but it's oh so buried in ignorance.

 

Ambitions:

- Not being poverse any more.

- Finding a dog as good as his old one.

- Taking a walk in the woods without fearing armed war parties.

- Making something of his potential.

- Finding a friend.

- No longer being transient.

 

Strengths/Talents:

- Useless magic potential. He'd probably make a great wizard, or cleric, or some other kind of magister. But alas, who would take in a dirty, ignorant urchin?

- Partial hunting training. Can move pretty quietly on some crunchy leaves, but good luck getting him to shoot a buck.

 

Weaknesses/Inabilities:

- Has the strength you would expect from a hungry kid such as himself.

- Is ignorant about a lot of things, and probably where it counts.

- Very sensitive to blood. Brings up all kinds of bad memories.

- Probably very easy to manipulate. He's a really trusting guy.

 

Appearance:

Oliver is short as far as human stature goes, and as mentioned above seems very malnourished. His big boy facial hair has yet to come in, leaving him with a disgraceful fuzzy face. Not even a manly chin shadow. He keeps himself dressed in linen, wrapped in a short cloak, and wearing some pretty shoddy gloves. They were most likely intended for farming.

 

 

[Tythus 1307]

Player Whitelisted.