New Application

[Warwick 12]

Out-Of-Character Details

Minecraft Account Name: Joker_Knight

How old are you?: 18

Time-Zone/Country of Residence: Eastern Time Zone

Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes.

Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Sadly no. I hope to change that.

Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes, I have.

How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: I was eagerly looking for an RP server that was actually taken seriously.

Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: None.

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/!: Yes.

Definitions

In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: Roleplaying is assuming the life, morals, and abilities of a virtual character, allowing you to act in ways similar to, or different from, your own.

In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: Metagaming is using knowledge that your character would not have access to during roleplay. An example would be knowing the exact moment something happens, while your character is many miles away.

In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: Power-emoting is RP'ing in such a fashion that other persons RP'ing with you have minimal/no time to react to your actions.

In-Character Details

Character Name: Nihlar Ashcroft

Character Race: Dark 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: Nihlar Ashcroft, simply put, is a sprightly young elf of 85 years and a perhaps too helpful spirit. Nihlar was born eight-five years ago on the outskirts of the city Laurelin to a loving family. He was born with the normal snow-white hair, but unusual red eyes. His family and the town he lived in knew it was an oddity, but it was never a point of contention. His father was an avid collector of tales, which he would happily share with his young son. Nihlar's favorite stories often involved brave heroes who fought off the undead. Something about fighting an enemy that shouldn't even be moving intrigued and thrilled him. His mother, on the other hand, was far more down-to-earth than his father. She trained him in the bow and sword, and encouraged him to hunt on his own. As the elf boy grew, he became known for his negotiating skills, often resolving issues with words, rather than the fairly formidable combat skills taught to him by his mother. Many of the beggars on the streets knew him well, for he was the person that would give away his last few coins with a smile on his face. He always puts others safety before his own, almost to a fault.

He dreams of becoming a Paladin, fighting the undead and helping those in need. He is easily spotted by his characteristic blue and gold clothing, colors he is quite fond of, something beggars and persons in distressed were grateful for.

What are your characters ambitions?: Nihlar wishes to become a Paladin.

Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: http://imgur.com/92E6c

Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: I hope the bio covered that.

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 slowly entered the city of Arethor, not due to caution, but wonder. Every city is a new world to be explored. As I meander down the streets, I hear the call of a vendor. "Fine goods for sale! There is something for everyone in my shop!", yells a poorly-clothed dwarf. His eyes lock with mine as I approach his stall, but they seemed more fearful than happy. "Is there something I can help you with, sir?", he nervously says to me. "I was looking for a new sword, perhaps something of dwarven make. Do you think you can help me?", I respond, knowing full well he had nothing of quality. The vendor scrambled around his store, and came up with an iron sword a few moments later. "This is the best sword I have to offer sir. It is of my own forge, and I sell my wares proudly.", he said, much more enthusiastically. I eyed the roughly made blade, doubting it would last more than a few blows. "It looks wonderful! It is exactly what I need!", I said, knowing that I would be walking away with a much lighter coin purse than he expected. "The blade is 100 minas, sir." I handed him a pouch, filled with many more coins than was the cost. He looked up, but I had almost disappeared. He looked more carefully, and he saw me. I threw him a jaunty wink, and continued on my stroll through the mighty city.

You’re wandering the Oren Road late at night, when a large Orc begins to threaten a nearby dwarf. There is no help nearby, and the situation looks like it will escalate into violence soon, what does your character do? It was late, and the road was notorious for bandits. I had little to fear, knowing my words or my blade could end any dispute peacefully. The blade would always be a last resort, and always was. I came upon a dwarf and an orc arguing. The orc was clearly attempting to rob the poor dwarf, but the conversation paused as I strode into earshot. "Good evening, gentlemen. I hope I am not interrupting anything of importance. What seems to be the issue?", I called to them. The dwarf looked immensely relieved at the sight of another person. The orc eyed me, knowing I was a threat, but said nothing. I strode to the dwarf, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ah, young Dorin! I was looking for you!", I said to the dwarf, while subtly poking him in the ribs. The dwarf almost jumped, but understood and managed to conceal his surprise. "My good Orc, I hope my friend here was not bothering you. I do hope these coins will prevent any further problems.". I tossed him a bulging pouch of coins and strode away, with my hand still firmly on the dwarf's shoulder, before the orc could say anything. Once I had escorted him to the city, I patted his shoulder, handed him what few coins I had remaining for a room at the inn, and sauntered off into the darkness.

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 came upon an old man. His frail frame barely filled the clothes he was wearing. He looked too weak to be walking with the thin cane he was carrying with him. As I approached, the cane snapped, and he flopped heavily to the ground, with the clatter of a coin purse breaking open. I walked over to the stunned old man, and offer him a hand to stand up. Once the man was standing, I crouched over the pick up the coins he dropped. He watched me carefully, with his sharp eyes not missing a detail. I procured a new pouch from my pocket, and refilled it for him. "Why do you help me?", whispered the old man. "Because I can.", I replied softly, knowing he had lived a hard life. The man did not speak after this, seemingly contemplating my words. I handed him the pouch, and he hefted it in his palm. The pouch was noticeably heavier than when he dropped it, but he said nothing. I walked to the forest on the side of the road, and found a much thicker cane, and handed it to him. He took it, again silently. We walked side by side, silently, for a long while, until we reached Malinor. He looked at me for the first time since I handed him his coins. He whispered his thanks, and walked away, with new hope in his step. I merely watched, shrugged, and went on my way.

[Danny 2232]

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