[✔] [Accepted] Grixxer's Whitelist Application

[Grixxer 15]

 

Out-Of-Character Information

Please do your best to correct spelling and grammatical errors, this is an RP server and writing is the main form of communication!

 

What’s your Minecraft account name?:

Grixxer

 

How old are you?:

22

 

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

Yes.

 

Have you read and agreed to the rules?:

I have read and agreed.

 

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

Metagaming is disallowed in its entirety. Metagaming is the use of information in roleplay that your character does not know. An example would be rallying troops to aid a friend even though your character would have no way to know he’s in trouble.

 

Are there any rule(s) that confuse you or don’t make sense? (if so we can help clear it up!):

No.

 

How did you find out about Lord of the Craft?:

Planet Minecraft

 

Link(s) to past Whitelist Applications (If applicable):

 N/A

 

Definitions

Feel free to Google the answers or browse our forums, but make sure that you write the reply in your own words, not those of another website or person! Plagiarizing will result in the automatic denial  of your application!

 

What is roleplaying?:

Roleplaying is, simply, assuming a role. Within the context of this server, roleplaying is filling the role of a self-written character within the realm of Vailor,

 

What is metagaming?:

Metagaming is using knowledge one wouldn’t otherwise have in engaging with another party, to character benefit. It exists where the domains of role-play and player knowledge intersect, where the player knowledge is leveraged in roleplay to supplement reaching goals not otherwise within the mere character’s means.

e.g. Johnny shouldn’t private message his friends for help halfway across the map when caught by roving bandits in a remote location where nobody would hear him.

 

What is power-emoting (powergaming)?:

Power-emoting is the portrayal of an action, through emoting, in a manner that forces one’s actions and discourages or blocks entirely any recourse from the engaged player.

e.g. Shelly emotes, “I kill you.” Instead, Shelly should probably emote more akin to, “I attempt a downward slash”.

 

 

In-Character Information
Now you actually make your character - be creative but stay reasonable! Make sure they make sense and that they follow lore. Try to come up with a character that you actually want to play.

 

Character’s name: (what do you want your character to be called?)

Baldwin of Dorn

 

Character’s sex: (male or female?)

Male

 

Character’s race: (you can find all the playable races here.)

Highlander

 

Character’s age: (upon application, your character must be 18 or older, and depending on the race, they can be over five hundred years old!)

22

 

Biography  (Please make it a decent two paragraphs long. Remember to add three references to the server lore.): (where does your character come from?; where have they traveled to?; what year were they born in? et cetera.)

Written in narrative form.

Some years ago there was, nestled in the mountain spine betwixt the lands of Vandoria and Urguan, an inconsequential hamlet by the name of Dorn.It was not Dorn’s location that made it inconsequential, nor was it its size, nor even its poverty, but only the purest of truths: that Dorn existed by the virtues and labors of a few men who were not troubled to be consequential at all. A scholar somewhere, in a land that mattered and to an audience who intently lent their ear, once said that “great hopes build great men”. No such great hopes, and thus no great men, reclined in the creaky wooden chairs, beneath the straw-thatched rooftops, of any of the two-dozen small hovels interspersed sporadically around Dorn’s soggy, sordid town center.

 

In one of those hovels was born a small boy. The boy had always wanted to build a sword. His single and elder brother, charged with the practical side of his education, decided that it would be horseshoes, nails, and tools instead. And horseshoes, nails, and tools it had been – for an entire decade, without fail, from dawn until dusk.

 

Fifteen years. The boy had always wanted to learn to fight. His father, an aging man whose mossy cataracts had crawled over his eyes and clawed out his sight, decided that he would fell logs and hunt deer instead.  And so the boy, when he wasn’t pounding iron into a horseshoe, a tool, or a nail, hunted deer and felled logs. After all, what use does a small farming village have for boys who can fight or build swords?

 

Twenty years. Realistically, - and rather unfortunately to boot – the answer was “quite more than was to be expected”. The father did not speak to his boys of political affairs, nor of how the inconsequential village of Dorn continued to be inconsequential in a land where borders shifted at the whims of warring kings and every parcel of land was so jealously coveted. Of all of these things, he especially did not discuss how the extra coppers on the side came from poaching and under-the-table barter with men more unsavory than foulest Orc of the War Uzg, nor how it was carried out with the knowledge and quiet, tactic approval of the village council.

 

How could they have known then that their father had slighted a lord?

 

Death and taxes, the village of Dorn found, were not mutually exclusive. The small platoon of men-at-arms poured viciously over the mountainside in the dead of night. Broad-tipped bolts cut bloody furrows through straw walls. Men were cut down in their doorways, women were put pitilessly to the ax, and babes were stabbed in their cribs. Generations upon generations of tradition and memory were shredded in a bloody killing-ground.

 

What a shock it was, to return from a mere two-day hunting trip into the mountain spine and find the majority of what one had known to be demolished. What a strange relief, to have been spared by dumb luck where all else had been destroyed. A dark, oppressive grief enfolded the boy in its dark wings, interspersed with periods of rage and regret, anguish and delirium.

 

Oh woe! - To perish soundlessly in a land that most men had never heard of, in a skirmish none would speak of again, for a cause no man cared for. To think of it shattered the boy’s self-esteem and cracked his normally cheerful countenance, casting his formerly passive demeanor to hurricane winds. After all - if a great tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, has it even made a sound? He would have none of it. He would most certainly not turn out the same.

 

Thus set forth the boy, from a blackened ruin set alight by men far stronger than he, togged up eagerly in patchwork leathers and scavenged iron plates pound unceremoniously into a more suitable shape. He was motivated not by vendetta, nor by coin, but to simply matter. Somewhere, somehow, to someone, doing something, that would yield more meaning than horseshoes, game, and fallen trees. Most importantly, far, far away from the memory that was the tiny village of Dorn.

 

So he went. Twenty-two. He arrived in the heartlands of the Orenian Empire, his eye on the city of Felsen. The rest, as they say, is history to be made.

 

Personality Traits: (what are your character's quirks?; habits?; likes and dislikes?)

His personality is most effectively encapsulated in a slew of emotional buzzwords – bold, loyal, attentive, yet oft-brash, suspicious, and lacking much true worldly experience. Truly neutral – at this point, he could be pushed equally as easily towards good will or brigandry.

 

He has always enjoyed a good hunt and submersion into meaningful work.

He has always disliked needlessly haughty men.

 

Ambitions: (what does your character aspire to be?)

The ambitions of a newly-minted man cast into an unfamiliar land fraught with warring lords, dotted by bandits and roving creatures of magic, and crisscrossed by new battlefields rife with the fresh carrion of men may, understandably, be relatively timid and underwhelming. This man is not one to shatter the expected mold – amongst peers with grandiose visions of futures as landed knights, ladies of the court, and the helmsmen of great trade empires, the man’s vision lacked a comparable luster. He strode forth simply to do – he would find his place somewhere, rooted in pursuit of goals greater than he. He would rely on no petty tricks. Any fortune that comes to him otherwise will be built of dedication, hard work, and wholehearted investiture to a cause greater than a single man.

 

How meek an ambition it is, to simply matter. But, then again, to matter – is that not the root of the greatest ambitions that have ever existed?

 

Strengths/Talents: (what is your character really, really good at?)

> His resolve is of stone – it is not often that he loses sight of a goal or concedes a challenge.

> His loyalty is steadfast and will likely take him far.

> His disposition is generally focused and respectful.

> His education is surprisingly complete for a man of humble origins, though does not delve into the nuances of history.

Weaknesses/Inabilities: (what is a skill that your character needs to work on?)

> His determination oft-manifests in astounding arrogance.

> He lacks learned tact or any distinct sense of sprezzatura.

> He is prone to hold an unhealthy grudge.

> He is prone to rampant ennui – patience is a virtue he has not yet mastered.

> His loyalty will inevitably drive him to great lengths and, above all else, is the character flaw most likely to kill him in the end.

 

Appearance: (what does your character look like?; how tall are they?; hair color?; scars?)

His hands are rough and his fingers calloused, contoured by the wooden haft of axes and hammers. The skin on the nape of his neck is a few steps darker than the surrounding shade. His stature is underwhelming and he stretches only as tall as the Empire average. Six foot-lengths; no more and no less. In a crowd, whilst clad simply, he would be a gray man – not interesting enough to occupy more than the briefest of attentions.

 

From Dorn he comes exhibiting the crudest of makeshift protective garb. Rough textiles and raw leather overlaid with scavenged iron plates pound roughly, though with care, into improvised armor to impede blows to the shoulder, fortify thick cloth padding, safeguard the knees, and strengthen the back. Slung between his shoulder blades by weather-beaten leather strips is a sturdy and immaculately kept ebon ax, hafted in sap-lacquered maple.

 

A battered, wrinkled, and torn map, illustrated on paper more reminiscent of hide afflicted by jaundice than crisp ivory parchment, is bound by tanned cowhide strips and affixed firmly to his chest.

 

Skin: (please provide us a screenshot of your character’s skin; if you need help, see our screenshot guide here.)

(http://imgur.com/u5mU9UE)

 

[AlmondTree 418]

Accepted. Good effort and that's awesome!

You will be implemented soon and if you got any questions you let me know!

Happy Rping!

[AlmondTree 418]

Moved to Accepted Applications Forum. Player whitelist pending.

[AlmondTree 418]

Whitelist application has been accepted, player is now whitelisted in game.