Supersodapop's Application

[LaCabra (Soda) 1519]

Out-Of-Character

Minecraft Account Name:

SuperSodaPops - Note: My old account was Weeberlore. I was using the account while my friend, the original owner of Weeberlore, was unable to access Minecraft. I now have Minecraft, just for ME!

How old are you?:

I am 15 years of age.

Time-Zone/Country of Residence:

I live in Mountain Standard Time (MST), in the United States.

Do you have a good grip on the English language/good grammar?:

I would like to think so... I mean, I’m in a few advanced writing classes.

Small 2-3 Sentence Description of yourself:

My name is Greg, and I am a freshmen at an Arizona high school. I participate in basketball, volleyball, swimming, reading, journalism, and am soon going to take a class about software. I have brown hair, am quite tall and skinny, and the whitest boy you will ever meet.

How much time could you be on the server weekly?:

On average, I will probably roleplay about 10-15 hours a week. Much of my time will be spent wandering throughout the forums.

What do you know about Roleplaying? Give a definition of what it means to you:

Roleplaying is an art. It is the only one where you can be someone or something else, letting you climb to the tallest mountain, or descend into the lowest valley. Where else can you be a golem, or a shifty elf with an addiction to murder? The answer, roleplay and roleplay only.

What experience have you had in Roleplaying, if any?:

On my past account, I had been roleplaying since October of 2011. In my own opinion, I am a good roleplayer. There are many areas I need to work on, however, including; not powergaming, being more creative, and giving other people a great experience. Shouldn’t that be every ones goals?

In your own Words, define what the act of Meta-Gaming is:

Meta-gaming is taking information that you know Out Of Character, and applying it to what your character does not know.

Example: Sonny Jim is walking through the deep and dank forest. An assassin, Bessy, is stalking him silently behind a group of massive trees. Sonny Jim turns around, and spies the dim white letters of Bessy’s account behind a tree. Jim thinks, “I better run!”

P.S. Sonny Jim should be banned.

In your own Words, define what the act of Power-Gaming is:

Power-gaming is the act of making your character un-beatable, the strongest, and the smartest in all of Asulon.

Example: The assassin who trained for her whole life has caught Sonny Jim. As she pulls out her serrated dagger, and draws it to Sonny Jim’s throat, Jim suddenly grabs the knife and snaps it in half. He kicks the assassin straight in the stomach, knocking her out. Magically, Sonny Jim the innocent 10 year old has defeated a trained assassin.

P.S. Why is Sonny Jim not banned yet?

What do you expect this server will be like?:

I know a fantastic answer for this, because I have experienced Lord of the Craft. Simply said, this server is amazing. The longest I had ever stayed steadily on a server was about a month, until I found Lord of the Craft. I’ve been here almost 6 months so far, and my love for roleplaying has only grown since.

What other server(s) have you played on and why did you leave them?:

In the past, I have explored many private servers. Nothing with a theme, just survival. It got pretty boring after a while, as you can guess! Back in October, I found Lord of the Craft, applied on my ancient account, and roleplayed for six months. Now, with my new account, I’m back.

Have you read, understood, and agreed to the rules?:

Absolutely, and without a doubt. I will follow them with all of my might!

Do you promise to abide by said rules, and laws? This includes the Server, Forum, and Teamspeak set Rules:

Once again, absolutely. I will abide by them without fault, as best as I can.

How did you hear about us?:

Minestatus.net is how my appreciation for Lord of the Craft was kindled. After a few minutes of exploring the various battle servers, I came upon the golden symbol stating, “LotC! - The Best RP Server Around!” I’m glad I clicked that link.

Have you voted for the Lord of the Craft on Minestatus? Which vote number were you?:

Yes, I have. My vote number is 2,485. Let’s step it up, Lord of the Craft! We can get to #1 in no time.

In-Character:

Character Name:

Uri'had Grûdain, Uri’had the Stealthy, Uri.

What Race are you?:

Uri’had will be a member of the Kharajyr. (Yes, I do understand that I need to specifically apply to them, but I will do that as soon as I am accepted into the server.)

What Sub-Race are you? (note, you aren’t required to have a sub-race):

Uri'had Grûdain’s sub-race is that of the Kha’Cheetrah, a cheetah based sub-race.

Biography (Please make this at least 2 paragraphs long. This must include the history of your character and his life as well as age, appearance and personality, etc.):

(OOC note: Graven is Uri’had’s predecessor. Graven, once accepted into the Kharajyr, will become Uri’had.)

The algid winter winds blow torrentuously through the dark and almost lonely night. A snow encased mountain roars in fury, and frozen trees creak in the wind’s force. A once proud and might river is still, resting in its ice form at the base of the majestic mountain. About three kilometers from the mountain’s peak resides a man.

Although his form is microscopic compared to the mountain’s mass, the man’s determination is immense. His will to conquer the mountaintop is unstoppable, and could never falter. Mountain climbing is his most favored hobby, and the icy mountain is an intimidating and worthy challenge. The freezing wind screams its voice endlessly, carrying thick sheets of snowflakes to the East.

The climber has had an exhausting ascend so far, beginning two days prior. His limbs are stiff from the bitterly cold air, and his fingers can hardly bend. He holds his hands close to his mouth, and breathes a warm cloud of steam onto them. A sense of heat comforts the chilled appendages, but quickly departs with another strong gale of wind.

As the cold becomes overwhelming, the mountaineer searches for a flat rock to sleep on. His efforts are soon rewarded, as he finds a smooth overhand, where he sits down and pulls a thick and inviting bear skin blanket from his pack. A fire is impossible to create in the frigid climate, so he pulls the soothing hide close to his body. Exhaustion sets in, and the man falls asleep; sleep that seems to only last for only one second.

As his eyes quickly slide open, the climber, named Graven Wolfblade, groans in pain. His legs and arms are fatigued, and his vision is weak in the blinding sunlight. The only sun is only peering through a few dark storm clouds, yet its reflection on the snow is brighter than a summer’s day. Graven pulls a device of his own making from his pack, a headband made from wool. The fleece pulled extremely tight, providing slight visibility if looked through, without being stunned from the sun’s rays.

Graven places the wool onto his face, and stuffs his blanket into his backpack. After doing so, Graven grabs a loaf of bread from one of his bag’s many pockets. He bites a few large chunks from the bread, and flushes them down his throat with a handful of melted snow. Fitting the rest of the bread into his mouth, he departs higher and higher up the unforgiving mountain.

The sun is quickly overpowered by the storm clouds, while a strange mixture of snow and rain pours down to Graven’s hair. He lifts his eyes to the stinging sleet, and curses as his woolen shade device is rendered useless. The rain makes the ground slippery, and Graven climbs up into a layer of clouds.

Graven, unable to see albeit a few feet in front of him, comes unto a steep wall; A wall where simply walking is impossible. A sturdy ice pick helps him to rise a few slow feet at a time. After an hour or so, Graven looks down to the clouds that once were above his head. They are no longer. The air is clean, and the sun has a softer gaze than it did that morning.

Graven swings his pick into the hard rock, securing it and providing an anchor for himself. He pushes his body up with his legs, finding a secure foothold, and repeats the process many times. As the sun begins to set, Graven finally reaches the summit of the cliff. Looking down at the sheer wall he just scaled, he emits a hoarse victory cry. The sound, unusually loud, echoes around the ancient mountain. Suddenly, a deep crack comes from within it.

The man is shocked to hear the startling noise, and sprints as quickly away from the cliff’s face as he can. Rocks crumble and shake around him, and a small fracture in the earth begins to form a small distance away from Graven. After a few seconds pass, the fissure begins to grow, until it is a lightning shaped crack on the peak. Screaming in confusion, he bolts towards the fissure, and jumps swiftly across its form. As he lands on the opposite side, a resounding crash is heard behind him. What once was firm and secure was now falling to a lower elevation.

The amount of noise is earsplitting, and Graven writhes on the cold stone ground in agony. The falling rock grinds upon the mountain’s side with brute strength and overwhelming force. After a couple seemingly endless minutes, the clashing subsides, and plumes of dust rise into the air. Coughing and hacking, Graven looks over the edge of the destroyed land. It is as if a knife has cut cleanly through the earth like a slab of warm butter. Small caves are now open, agape and wide, from where hefty rocks used to cover. A steady stream of bats issue from one cavern, gliding through the dreary and cold currents of air.

Graven, exhausted and confused, falls to the floor. He nearly topples from the edge of the earth’s incision, but does not. A strange dream seems to overcome his mind.

The shadowed bodies of great felines rush throughout a lush forest, while birds whistle in the gigantic leaves. A soft, feminine voice speaks many words, but only a few are recalled by Graven. “Faith… Importance… Love… Strength… Honor… Duty… Metzli…”and finally, “Kharajyr.” A large stone temple, covered in grassy vines, is sat on by a great white creature. The figure is far away, but Graven notices its pointy ears and waving tail. Thoughts of perplexity run through his mind, such as, “Is this magic? Trickery? Sorcery? Am I going insane? But… It is beautiful. I wan- need it. I ache for it. Please, please, let me find it! I will die for it!”

Graven awakes to the feeling of raindrops. As they slide down from his dirt covered face, his deep blue eyes flick open. Shivers jerk and jolt his movement, and more rain falls. Not just a pitter-patter, pitter-patter, but a tremendous PITTER-PIT-PAT-CLASH-PITTER-PITTER-PAT-BOOM, as the night sky illuminates and reverberates with lightning and thunder. Despite the deadly temperature, he searches for a route down the mountain. Luckily, a small path made by herds of animals provides a safe, yet long and descending trail. The bite of hunger digs through his belly, but is not satisfied. “Find the Kharajyr. Find the Kharajyr,” mumbles Graven, not fazed by his need for nourishment.

Down the soiled path he trots, lightly and with rapidity. What might have taken hours to climb up was being scampered down in minutes. Although a gathers a fine collection of scrapes and bruises from falling, he does not halt until the sun has risen. As the sun rises, Graven stumbles further down the mountain. The land begins to become more balanced, and Graven walks quickly into the horizon.

What is your Character's ambitions?:

Uri’had will be an aspiring assassin, wishing to fulfill the will of Metzli, the Kharajyr Goddess, and Tla’Xerdun, the Kharajyr’s current leader. In his own eyes, Uri’had is not evil. He fights for his homeland, the nation of Karakatua.

(I will wait on assassinations until my villain application is accepted.)

What is your character’s favorite tool? (sword, pickaxe, shovel, etc):

Uri’had holds skills with many weapons, as he must with his career. His most favored weapon is his intellect. His favorite physical weapon, however, would have to be an easily concealable dagger.

What is one of your Character's most skilled talents?

Uri’had’s stealth is his most skilled talents. Training and time has honed his ability to creep silently upon prey, providing surprise to his attacks. Although he is not invisible, Uri’had can make himself nearly so with silence and his surroundings.

A screenshot of your skin (must be in proper format):

This is Uri’had wearing his assassin clothing.

Other Information about your Character:

I am hoping that Uri’had will provide a great roleplay experience to all. Understand that I WILL BE WRITING A VILLAIN APPLICATION.

Open-Response-Questions

Whilst traveling from the Cloud Temple you see a small halfling, being harassed by two armed warriors. They appear to be trying to steal money from him, how does your character respond?

Uri’had watches the small ape from one end of the Cloud Temple valley, spying his every move. The burly soldiers throw punches at the little ape’s soft and tender face, leaving a spray of dark maroon liquid from his nose. Uri’had pays little attention to the feud after he realizes that they are not in his contract. His eyes scan along the healthy valley, and his small bob of a tail flicks to and fro with frustration. He cannot, however, lose focus. The blazing sun begins to set, and Uri’had continues to spy for his target. A wealthy king, surrounded by guards, walks into the valley from the opposite end as Uri’had. Uri’had, delighted, sees this ape. He crawls from his concealed hiding spot, and knocks a slender arrow into his sleek bow. A thought runs through Uri’s mind as he sets aim upon the king. “The game has begun.”

Your character wanders into Alras, and comes across a small stall, behind which a well dressed man is standing. He’s offering various wares, the merchant turns to you and says in a posh accent " 'ello there, what can I do you for today?" What is your character response?

Uri’had does not respond to the successful merchant with words, but with eye contact. A hard glare to the ape sets the fool’s jaw trembling. “Does he know who I am?” thinks Uri’had, who concludes the thought with, “If he does, I must end him now.”

Uri looks around the stall to a street nearby. The street is lonesome, and Uri’had is alone with the merchant. Uri’had, looking at the merchant with a softer and false glance, speaks in a thick accent. “Where are your arrows?” The merchant responds quickly by pulling a wooden box full of cheap arrows, and says, “10 minas each.” Uri’had pulls out 10 small golden coins, and slides them across the stall’s counter. A single arrow is slid back. Uri’had grabs it, and flings it in a spear-like fashion towards the merchant. As it sticks through the man’s throat, blood gurgles out slowly. The man dies quickly, and Uri’had pulls the arrow from his throat, places it back in its box, and departs in the dark of night.

Whilst wandering in the wilds, your character comes across a small hut, which looks abandoned. Inside it you see a chest containing a few iron bars, and a golden sword. How would your character respond?:

Uri’had spies the abandoned hut from a long distance, eyeing it slowly and with caution. As he watches, a glimmer of silver and gold shines through a window. Uri’had walks stealthily towards the glint, and peers inside the hut, seeing the golden sword and iron bars. Thinking nothing of it, Uri’had breaks the window and climbs inside. The broken glass clinks onto the rotten floorboards, and Uri’had takes a long sniff. Nothing seems to be wrong, so he grabs the iron bars and shoves them into one of his pockets. The sword is too large for his preference, and he leaves it. Uri’had decides to spend the night in the hut, attaining some well deserved rest.

[Rhisereld 317]

Accepted.

You only needed to make an alternate account application, but this works too. You'll know that you've been whitelisted when this application is moved to the Implemented section. Until then, be patient!

[Rhisereld 317]

Moved to Accepted Forum

[shiftnative 3103]

Implemented