[Denied]BTW's Second application.

[Banter 5]

Out-Of-Character Details

Minecraft Account Name:Cody_14

How old are you?:Twelve.

Time-Zone/Country of Residence:

Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?:I have a good grip on English Language, as well as grammar. I may misspell words, as well was accidently do something put a comma after an, when only two things are in the sentence. Example: The dwarf, and the Orc. I do that on accident every once and a while. Otherwise, it's good.

Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?:Yes, two years, plus about a month.

Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?:Yes, I do agree with the rules, as well as understand them.

How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?:My brother, a guy who is on Lord of The Craft a lot.

Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft:http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/70259-meridan-erik-vanachez/

Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here:http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/!:

Definitions

In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is:Roleplaying is assuming the role of a certain thing. Like being a performer, or a knight. But, not truly be one. Like pretending to be something your not. Generly for fun.

In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is:Meta-Gaming is using details/things your character doesn't know about otherwise in game. They don't know how a town looks, or who lives in what house without being told. In game. For example; I could know that Quince lives in the house next to the well, but in game, my character was never told. So if I knock on the door, asking for Quince, then I'm Meta-Gaming.

In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is:Power-emoting is doing something that gives you more power than possible. Like slicing clear through steel armor, a person, and a wall, with a wooden sword. Just impossible things, with unnatural power.

In-Character Details

Character Name:Aleran Thion Rerion.

Character Race:Elf

Character biography - Make this at least 2 paragraphs long, which must explain your character’s history, appearance, personality, age and any other details you deem necessary:I am Aleran Thion Rerion. People call me 'Al' for short. I am a semi typical Woodland elf, other than the fact I'm probably rather pale compared to the rest, due to the fact I've spent atleast about half my life under some sort of cover, due to my frequent sickness. I also read a lot, so my skin paled over the years. I am about 7'1 with 180 pounds on me. I am currently 185 in Elven years. I've had a lot past, but I guess I can remeber it like I did 100 years ago. Sorta vivid, but not all the details. I don't forget, but I can't exactly remeber, but in Malinor, no one seems to think that way. Well, we live NEAR Malinor, we're actually more or less righout outside, in the wilderness. We just prefer to live there, versus being couped up in a city. Plus, more farm land.

Sure, farmland doesn't exactly excite me, but I enjoy getting what needs to be done, done. Plus, I get food, keep mom happy, and generly get to pick the times I work! That and the military doesn't exactly want a sickly elf amongist them. Heck, even Malinor doesn't want a sickly elf recruit. So farming is certantly an option I'm stuck with. My parents died when I was young. The plauge had killed them both. I almost died from it as well, but somehow, it only left me sickly. I had a bright future before then, I was planning to be like my father, a talented Guardian. I had even practiced a bow every once and a while. But ever since the plauge, I've been stuck with farming. I don't care too much, they've just been dead for a while now.

I only blame myself. My mother was never truly alright after my birth, she got a bit sickly from it, weaking her, my father worked hard, never taking breaks to support us all, if I was never here, they'd be alive. So, to make it up, I'm going to do something, to fix this world. Cruel, corrupt, I will change that. They may of not had a chance, but not one cared they had died, they only said it was another plauge victim. I will change the world, I will make sure each and every person, cares. Not about my family, but about everyone. I will do whatever that takes.

I was set on this path, the day I woke up, to discover my parents taken, by the plauge. It had made two of me, the proud man I once was, then the cruel man, I have to be now. We work together to change this world. Even if it means that I will die, I will one day fix the world. No one cared when I lost my family, I do care that I lost them. I have grown more intelligent, on the days I've been sick, I read, to become more prepared for this duty. This is my burden alone, to my parents, to everyone that had died in that plauge, that was forgotten. I will make sure they all rejoyce, as their family members reach true peace.

What are your characters ambitions?:To go back, and fix the world, the way he sees fit.

Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here:Please look at my avatar, it has a picture. If you want, I can make the picture bigger, but otherwise, there it is!

Is there anything else you would like to say about your character:I'm sorta stubborn, well thought out, and rather intelligent with mildly good looks. But, I am rather sickly and I don't really care the means in which I have to do something, as long as someone doesn't die. Last but not least, I'm a woodland elf.

Open-Response-Questions

Each question here must be answered with a minimum of one full paragraph, and detail the scene you are given in the way it would happen in roleplay. These questions should be answered in first person. Be detailed, not short.

Upon entering the Mighty Human City of Arethor, you come across a shop-keeper calling out to sell his wares to passers-by. The shopkeeper is not a Human, he is a poor dwarf looking to make a living in a new city. What is your response? I look at the poor dwarf. A part of me thinks he could be useful, another part of me pities him. I walk straight up to the dwarf though, "How is it you came to Arethor, a might human city, rather than your home lands?" I ask, tilting my head. Information is just as important. The grubby dwarf looks up at me, a pale woodland elf. He thought I was the out of place one, I could tell. "Well, I was hopin' to make a livin' out of this 'ere wares." He points a grubby thumb at his wierd trinkents and gadgets. I browse them all, then realise he could be more important than he realises. "How would you like a buissness proppisition?" I ask, my mouth curling into a sly smile. He seems slightly unnerved at the smile, but asks me, his voice quiverin at the end, "What sort of buissness pro-proppisition?" He asks, looking me in the eyes. I shrug, as if this was all a daily retuine. "I need someone to sell my crops, you need stuff to sell. We split it, fifty fifty." I smile widely, at the dwarf. He thinks I'm either joking, or this is a golden oppurtunity, I can't tell which one though. He then smiles, his grubby teeth stainned yellow. "I accept." He doesn't even ask for my name, a simple man, only concerned with money. I think fate was looking out for me today. With that, I nod, then head away, towards other stalls, for other things I could buy.

You’re in the Cloud Sanctuary late at night, when a large Orc begins to threaten a nearby dwarf. The only present monk is fast asleep, and the situation looks like it will escalate into violence soon, what does your character do? I look at Orc and the Dwarf. Maybe I could stop this, or twist it to my advantage? "Dear Orc, you may be angry at the Dwarf, but taking it out on him will only cause further problems. Perhaps I know you love fighting, but even then," I stop, and cough, the coughing racking through my whole body. If this turns to violence, I won't stand a chance. "We can settle this peacefully, after all," I lean forward, so only the Orc can hear me, "We need soliders, the more the better. So how about it Orc, spare the dwarf, and inflict pain on the nations?" I smile, broadly. The Orc looks at me, then a huge grin appears on his face. "Slaying others, or beating up a dwarf." He almost punches the dwarf, then stops. "You have a deal twiggy, but if you don't you end of the deal, I'll break you, then the dwarf!" He roars out. The monk, was unaware, but wakes up as the Orc leaves. The dwarf looks at me, wondering what I could of possibly said to change his mind. "Things are changing." I then cough some more, then walk out, after the Orc, leaving behind a confused dwarf and a startled monk.

Whilst walking down the road to Malinor, you stumble upon an old man. His walking stick , looks weak and frail, and just as you are about to ask something, the stick breaks, and the man falls to the ground. As he falls down, a bag of Minas falls to the ground, and splits open. As you watch the multiple coins spill out, you peer down at the defenceless man. What does your character do?:I need that money. Regardless of how it goes, I will get that money. "Dear old man, you have seem to have fallen over," I say, in a rather sing-song voice. Perhaps you'd wish some assistance with getting back up?" I ask the old man, dancing around him. He looks at me, from the spot on the ground, "You think it's funny watching an old man fall?" I smile, widely, "No sir, but I can see you need help, so let's make a deal. In exchange for my help, you help me." The old man realises he has no other choice, then sighs. "What is it?" I think for a moment, something realistic, other than his money, for I now realise just why he might of not bought a better walking stick. "I want, a place to stay for the night." I say, not exactly the biggest thing to ask for, but he doesn't seem happy with the idea. "I'll even make you a walking stick." I say, knowing this is already stretching it. The old man seems to smile a bit. "It seems like a fair deal mister...?" I answer quickly, trying to keep this act up, "Rerion, Aleran, but just call me Al." The old man nods again, but doesn't offer his name. "Now then, off we go." I bend over, then heave the man up, knowing I'll pay for this later. Along with the bags, which I hand to him. We slowly go towards Malinor, following his instructions. We get their a few minutes before I get sick, which of course, he holds his side of the deal, so I end up resting with the old man in the house.

[nppeck 601]

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[nppeck 601]

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