~*+_ Ikur'taeleh'naeir's Application _+*~

[Eleatic 1033]

Out-Of-Character

Main Minecraft Account Name: borgtrek7

Alternate Minecraft Account Name: Maehr

In your own words, define what the act of Roleplaying is: Role playing; Simply a fancier word for acting, though an in obviously more diverse ideal. Acting of which anything is possible, wether you be drunken dwarf. Or lustful elf, the world is your oyster. As; You. In the rules of the server, can do. Just about anything, as long as it does not breach power-gaming, or meta-gaming.

In your own Words, define what the act of Meta-Gaming is: Metagaming is doing a foolish thing, in a simpler terms *Big laugh* No no, The act of Meta'Gaming is obviously using information obtained in real life, be it internet, or in the /real/ world. Then utilizing said information IC[in character] However; If it is something of common knowledge, Such as the existence of the monks. It is, in obvious terms. Not meta.

In your own Words, define what the act of Power-Emoting is: The act of power-emoting, or. Power-gaming. Is doing unthinkable. Or unrealistic things, in an example. Say we have bob, and todd. They are fighting, and Bob emotes this:

*Kills Todd* Powergaming - The other party has no chance to respond

Another example, lets say someone named.. Dumbldore. Does this emote, with no MAT Approved magical training

*Summons a dragon, omgsh its neko!*

It too, is power-gaming. It can also be doing the impossible to make your character stronger.

In-Character:

Character Name:

Ikur'Taeleh'Naeir. While this name seem as though odd, it is elvish. For Cold, Lonely mind. This is fitting for Ikur', and the way he lives his life.

What Race are you? (You may only be Human, Orc, Elf or Dwarf!):

- Elf.

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

Mali'Ahreal. In common tongue, high elf.

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.):

Ikur’Taeleh Naeir, born of a high elven descent. His parents stern and brutal in their teachings to him days and hours devoted to the art of learning. Even at a age as young as Seven, little Ikur was learning the basics of the world, reading and writing with ease.

Books were his love, tomes and poems. He lived in a large siimah, this being his family’s home. The siimah itself close to a small village, one of elven occupation, in it’s depths a large library loomed, inhabited by a lone care-taker being the person he was

Ikur had decided to go and explore the library.

The large wooden doors stood malevolently in his face. He pushes past them, seeing what was inside... A lone old man, withered like a crone, his elven ears sticking out of his head, he had smiled at Ikur, and Ikur had enjoyed his conversation. They spoke of literature, new and old. The caretaker seemed none to worried about this child, as though he knew he was going to come.

Ikur had taken to visiting him, the caretaker had always welcomed Ikur, finding a kindred spirit in the young high-elf, Ikur had taken a large liking to the caretaker, his kindly and open personality refreshing from the up-tightness of his parents’. Years went bye, decades to decades, Ikur had gone less and less to the caretaker, as the years went bye he became respected in his little village, working as a scribe for the lord of the land, though him gaining that position is another story..

He awoke one morning, and he realized something... He had not seen the caretaker in fifty years, and he saw the old building, ever still on it’s mountain side resting place.

He made a weary sigh as he trudged up the mountain, looking towards the enormous doors. The wood peeling on them, he pushed into it, making a loud scream.

“Hello?!”

No response, came from the eyrie hall. He trudged up the old stairs’, looking for the old room of the caretaker.. He found what he desired..

Rats had chewed at his skin, and most of his body had fallen into disrepair. His age and lack of malnourishment, had ended up. A note was left on the table his mangled corpse/skeleton. It was written, in a odd crimson ink. Eyrie as it was, he recognized the one elven word upon the paper. His eyes staring in disbelief.

"Dear, Ikur... I see you’ve found my resting place, oh so dreary in the years I’ve been gone, I have missed you.. More then I can say. But I was bound by oath to stay within these walls.. These thick, stone walls’. I found you a kindred spirit, Siol.. And for leaving me, I forgive you.. Ikur, you were leading a good life.. You did not need your friend anymore. I have but one word of wisdom to you. My friend.. Stay true your heritage, and stay true to what I have taught you..

- The caretaker.. Or... Ael’Ayla.”

Ikur looked with a weary tear. Nodding to the note. He left the corpse and the note alone in their sullen solitude, forever, alone..

In the middle of a winter night, months after this. He left, taking a horse from the stables’ galloping away on his white Mare. He would go where his heritage was true, he would follow the caretakers’ words.. He would go, to Haelun’Or~

The Life of the caretaker was one of service, he was bound by the day he was of age to take care of the library. This oath was per his house’s custom, the knowledge inside if this library was vast... Of so many things, magic, necromancy, and incantations.. Locked away in that library, his house had guarded it’s secrets for their entire duration... Ael’Ayla had no heir. And when Aegis fell, the library shattered under the malevolent fist of the undead. Nothing left now but blood.. And ash.

He had traveled on the elven boat, sailing through the verge to the land we call Asulon. Sorrow gripped him during this large and unkindly voyage, he had shared a cabin with ten wood-elves... Sickened by their very appearance. These were not pure.. No, they were impure.. And should not be spared.

He smiles happily as he departed from the ship, stepping on the land with many of his peers. It was a harsh land.. But he knew one-day it would be pure, pure for the high elven race.. He had followed his own race, most correctly the wood-elves.. Though they were not truly his own, he had not many a squabble with them. He had found Elandriel's forests with them, living in the hollowed shell of a giant tree.

This tree was nothing like his old Siimah in Aegis, but it was home.. He had learned Haelun'or had been founded, a city for his own race.. He had ran at the news, carrying only the bare essentials. He had rushed to the gate, a child answering his call.

"C'mon! I know a way in!"

Smiling, he nodded. The watcher had nodded in allowance of this. He had snuck in through a old corridor. Ending up in his true home.. Haelun'or.. The land of the Mali'Ahreal, the true beings of Asulon.

What are your Character's ambitions?:

At the moment, Ikur is the apitimy of an emotionless, and truly set-in-stone person. He is happy, living within his Siimah. Though, he always remembered Ael'Ayla's stride that he should better himself. In knowledge and soul, so one day. He aspires, that magic might be within his grasp. Though this is a long ways away, he hopes it would be sooner then not.. [He is searching for books, upon a day of which I can speak to an approved teacher, I shall make a magic-app. And ask them to watch my self teaching.]

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

Other Information about your Character: Ikur is a tall man, slim and firm. His eyes a sillkily alluring sky blue, his hair a silvery straight of messes. By many high elven women, he would be considered a big catch, being his purity is without question; Within his garbs, are a soft array of robes, this one of many. A white cloak, and a light crimson robe. One of his favorite garbs, though. He never uses it when tending the inn, usually simply preferring a dirtied garb, as he would be bound to get it dirtied in the day.

Open-Response-Questions

Answer at least three out of five listed!

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?: Ikur makes a straightened frown, his feet clattering upon the sandstone, he gasps in aure. Watching the halfling's plight, but a single thought runs through his mind, echoing in a maniacal phase

"He is not pure." He listens and listens, eyeing the halfling, then stepping away. Leaving him, the halfling noticing him, shrieking. The warrior saying in a gruff tone "Make an end." They slice forward, slashing into his throat. Ikur seemingly unphased, as he simply steps away.

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?:Ikur makes a soft frown, staring oddly at the abandoned hut, tilting his head, saying in a seemingly loud tone "Karin'Ayla?!" No response, he looks inward, blood spilled across the hut's floor. His eyes turning backwards, bile spewing from his throat, he gasps, sooner then naught. Bringing up his dinner, spraying it unto the cabin, as he does, he wipes his mouth, picking up his heels, darting away. Engrossed in fear.

Hungry and lost in the wilderness, you stumble across a small trading camp nestled among the forest, they greet you you in the common tongue, how do you respond?: Ikur gasps at the wildlings, he hears a gruff dialect of the common Tongue, spoken in a gruff tone, anger on their faces. They say in a tone much of anger

"What Mali' doing in wild. Dis our land."

He bows his head, slowly nodding, up. Down. Backing away, fear within his eyes. No weapon to be held, he stares backwards, a small town within sight, he gasps in relief, darting away.

[nppeck 601]

Accepted

[nppeck 601]

Moved to Accepted Forum

[Neri 3590]

Implemented