The Ildician Order

[Minea 124]

[[Extreme update, we are now a knightly order, squire rank added, squire uniform added. Knights/full order members can now take on a maximum of one squire unless special request is made to the Ordhu commander. Said knight will tell order panel of judges when their various squires are ready, this will in turn bring a council together that will test said squires in various areas, if they pass then they are enlisted and promoted as a Grey Shirt Ildician Knight. To now become a Grey Shirt one must find a knight as a "master" to train them, if there are no knights available as mentors then there will be no recruitment into the order, list of available knights are posted]].

[Zeedus 73]

-Tyrannous steps up to the board where various bounties had been placed over the past year, and something caught his eye.. A flyer was pinned to the board, seeking soldiers and bodies, his brown cloak wrapped around his large body as he read the forum out to himself in a very drunk-like manner, a strange accent twisting every word he said into some sort of song. He frowned a bit at the contract and lifted one of his large, gnarly hands to grab it from the board, ripping it off with a single movement. Over the passed year he had been using the refuge of a dank cave far to the east for shelter, no longer. He was returning to the north, where he and his brother had long since ventured from. Tyrannous made his way to the local Inn on the side of the road, his large form squeezing in through the door frame. On his back he wore the sword his brother had used in life "Red Grace" he placed said sword on the chair a cross from him, keeping it within it's leather and wooden sheath as he placed the paper on the table and took the carving knife. Ink was too expensive for him. He brought the knife to his thumb and dug it in until it drew blood before going on with the signing.-

 

-The note is written with blood-

 

Minecraft Name: (ZeedusFrostBlood)
Character name: Tyrannous -The last name appears to be smeared-
Char Bio (one or two paragraphs): 

Tyrannous was the younger brother of Garland Verseries, forever within his shadow as his brother grew in both their mother and father's eyes. He always aspired to be better than his brother, but could never quite comprehend how to do it; no matter what he did his brother was still faster and stronger than he. That was, until the fateful day that they both had departed from the far north, from their home village. Garland and Tyrannous had been separated during a large storm when their ship had been swallowed by the sea. Garland had arrived near some sort of city while his younger brother Tyrannous was washed upon a beach in what was a scorching hot desert. While his brother was off playing as a guard and becomming old and rusty, Tyrannous practiced his skills within the desert, coming in counter with random Orc's along his travels and learning from those that could teach. For awhile, he felt as if he were one of them. Then, Garland's owl came flying overheard.. a giant white bird with elegant wings that glowed in the sunlight, it bared a message; he was planning on killing himself. Tyrannous raced towards the direction the owl had came from, but by the time he had reached the area; it was too late. Tyrannous found his brother's sword within his study in the Shield's base and took it for his own, the sword forged of the blood of their ancestors, Red Grace. For a long time after that Tyrannous stayed within proximity of the city, though only entering when the rations were being handed out. He stayed away from conflict as much as possible, though he observed various encounters and battles and learnt from them, absorbing the enemies cunning each time. Thinking of the ways he would run things if he were king. He had once been a knight of his homeland, now he was nothing less than a sell-sword, a bodyguard for anyone with the coin to pay for him. No one died, no one that deserved not to. 

 

The day came that the boats set sail, he took up refuge among the villagers of the Elven villages, hiding among the gathered populace, keeping his head low and his  hood up, forever remaining in the dark recesses of the boat's interior. His only friend was the raven that kept him company when he was on spotter duty. He felt he was going to go mad if things kept up the way they were. Blood thirst began to get the better of him, and in the silence of one night.. he slashed the throat of a young boy whom had touched his sword. The crime was never found out, though people had their suspicions of him. Time rolled on, more people died and then, the fated day arrived. "Land ho!" the male voice rang out, people began filing out of the ship faster than Tyrannous's eyes could comprehend, and all too soon. He was alone again, with only his thoughts.. And the raven. From the road onward he made his way as a sell-sword, living within the dank dwelling of a dark cave and eating only what he could forage. That was, until now. 

Char military history: -This spot is blank-
Reason for joining: Home.
Timezone: ( US Pacific Standard )
Referees to your app (people willing to support the information given if asked by Minea): (Garrett) 
Time on Server: (Since last August? MATH IS HARD!) 
Skype Name: ( Zeedus1 )
Pledge of Loyalty: I Tyrannous hereby swear loyalty to the Ildician knights on my blood, and on the blood of my ancestors. Should my sword spill the blood of an innocent man, my life will be at the command of my leader. I from here-on swear my fealty to the Ildician knights.

 

-A large glob of blood is on the bottom of this paper, as if the creature whom had did it had attempted at a signature-

 

-Tyrannous sighs quietly as he rolls the paper up and binds it with a small bit of twine, leaking a bit of blood onto the back of the page. He holds it up in his left hand and through the opened window on the cold night's wind his Raven leaps forward and snatches it within his claws. With eyes closed a smile begins to form on Tyrannous's lips. He speaks in that dark voice of his that seemed to echo over the gasps of the patrons.-

"This should be fun"

-The raven lets out a shriek as it turns and flies back out the way it had come, soaring through the night's sky, a black shadow on a black canvas, making it's way towards the home of the Ildician knights.-

[Minea 124]

-Tyrannous steps up to the board where various bounties had been placed over the past year, and something caught his eye.. A flyer was pinned to the board, seeking soldiers and bodies, his brown cloak wrapped around his large body as he read the forum out to himself in a very drunk-like manner, a strange accent twisting every word he said into some sort of song. He frowned a bit at the contract and lifted one of his large, gnarly hands to grab it from the board, ripping it off with a single movement. Over the passed year he had been using the refuge of a dank cave far to the east for shelter, no longer. He was returning to the north, where he and his brother had long since ventured from. Tyrannous made his way to the local Inn on the side of the road, his large form squeezing in through the door frame. On his back he wore the sword his brother had used in life "Red Grace" he placed said sword on the chair a cross from him, keeping it within it's leather and wooden sheath as he placed the paper on the table and took the carving knife. Ink was too expensive for him. He brought the knife to his thumb and dug it in until it drew blood before going on with the signing.-

 

-The note is written with blood-

 

Minecraft Name: (ZeedusFrostBlood)

Character name: Tyrannous -The last name appears to be smeared-

Char Bio (one or two paragraphs): 

Tyrannous was the younger brother of Garland Verseries, forever within his shadow as his brother grew in both their mother and father's eyes. He always aspired to be better than his brother, but could never quite comprehend how to do it; no matter what he did his brother was still faster and stronger than he. That was, until the fateful day that they both had departed from the far north, from their home village. Garland and Tyrannous had been separated during a large storm when their ship had been swallowed by the sea. Garland had arrived near some sort of city while his younger brother Tyrannous was washed upon a beach in what was a scorching hot desert. While his brother was off playing as a guard and becomming old and rusty, Tyrannous practiced his skills within the desert, coming in counter with random Orc's along his travels and learning from those that could teach. For awhile, he felt as if he were one of them. Then, Garland's owl came flying overheard.. a giant white bird with elegant wings that glowed in the sunlight, it bared a message; he was planning on killing himself. Tyrannous raced towards the direction the owl had came from, but by the time he had reached the area; it was too late. Tyrannous found his brother's sword within his study in the Shield's base and took it for his own, the sword forged of the blood of their ancestors, Red Grace. For a long time after that Tyrannous stayed within proximity of the city, though only entering when the rations were being handed out. He stayed away from conflict as much as possible, though he observed various encounters and battles and learnt from them, absorbing the enemies cunning each time. Thinking of the ways he would run things if he were king. He had once been a knight of his homeland, now he was nothing less than a sell-sword, a bodyguard for anyone with the coin to pay for him. No one died, no one that deserved not to. 

 

The day came that the boats set sail, he took up refuge among the villagers of the Elven villages, hiding among the gathered populace, keeping his head low and his  hood up, forever remaining in the dark recesses of the boat's interior. His only friend was the raven that kept him company when he was on spotter duty. He felt he was going to go mad if things kept up the way they were. Blood thirst began to get the better of him, and in the silence of one night.. he slashed the throat of a young boy whom had touched his sword. The crime was never found out, though people had their suspicions of him. Time rolled on, more people died and then, the fated day arrived. "Land ho!" the male voice rang out, people began filing out of the ship faster than Tyrannous's eyes could comprehend, and all too soon. He was alone again, with only his thoughts.. And the raven. From the road onward he made his way as a sell-sword, living within the dank dwelling of a dark cave and eating only what he could forage. That was, until now. 

Char military history: -This spot is blank-

Reason for joining: Home.

Timezone: ( US Pacific Standard )

Referees to your app (people willing to support the information given if asked by Minea): (Garrett) 

Time on Server: (Since last August? MATH IS HARD!) 

Skype Name: ( Zeedus1 )

Pledge of Loyalty: I Tyrannous hereby swear loyalty to the Ildician knights on my blood, and on the blood of my ancestors. Should my sword spill the blood of an innocent man, my life will be at the command of my leader. I from here-on swear my fealty to the Ildician knights.

 

-A large glob of blood is on the bottom of this paper, as if the creature whom had did it had attempted at a signature-

 

-Tyrannous sighs quietly as he rolls the paper up and binds it with a small bit of twine, leaking a bit of blood onto the back of the page. He holds it up in his left hand and through the opened window on the cold night's wind his Raven leaps forward and snatches it within his claws. With eyes closed a smile begins to form on Tyrannous's lips. He speaks in that dark voice of his that seemed to echo over the gasps of the patrons.-

"This should be fun"

-The raven lets out a shriek as it turns and flies back out the way it had come, soaring through the night's sky, a black shadow on a black canvas, making it's way towards the home of the Ildician knights.-

BLOODY TERRIFIC APP MATE!! I really appreciate the effort put in

 

*An Adunian Hawk somehow finds its way to your feet, it lifts its leg and you notice a tightly rolled note, opening it up you read*

 

Hail Tyrannous,

It appears that you would suit our life very well, Tance has contacted me on the matter of squireship, and I approve of the partnering. You would do well to contact Tance Nikkelsen as soon you are able, from your application it seems training isn't needed, but nonetheless tradition still stands. The uniform of the Fheum will be given to you upon meeting Tance.

 

Sincerely Starke McHaryn

*the bottem of the letter is stamped with a roaring Grey bear*

[Garrett 62]

The large northerner sat quietly within the tavern, eyes peering into a flame with such ferocity that one might wonder if he had lost himself within. But as he glared upon the crackling fire he was far from lost and his simple mind far from vacant. In fact, it stormed with an intense dissatisfaction as he ran himself through aging memories, again, and again, his temperament growing fowler and more morose with each passing thought. He had been betrayed and robbed.

The tavern was alive. A group of men were on their way out as a hooded lad walked in with a sure-footed step only for his gaze to meet the northerner’s and the northerner’s to meet his. They knew of each other, and were once brothers. The squire knew with conviction evident upon his young, frightened features that he had come upon a grave misfortune. While the northerner, the oath breaker, slowly stood, his dull, empty gaze and stern, emotionless features conveyed no message at all. The silence wound like a thick fog between the two, though it had always been, and soon the northerner’s hand slowly fell to his recently forged axe, lightly touching upon its spiked head as he drew it forward from his belt.

 

The squire, clad in the white tabard so indicative of his uselessness, panicked, his worried eyes shifting about the room in search of desperate escape. He would try to leave, but as he turned to make flight one of the rough men pushed him forward and laughed, nodding to the silent northerner with approval and chuckling forward a few jovial, cruel words. The squire upon a sword as he stumbled forward, but it would be futile as the large northerner caught his wrist in a sizeable, calloused hand and shoved his axe’s spiked tip forward remorselessly.

 

The squire screamed. He was loud at first, but as the northerner drew back his axe and stabbed forward with a sickeningly calm repetition the lad grew quiet. Bile and blood soon splattered upon the floor, forming a pool that the squire soon joined. After a long hesitation the northerner’s boots were stained by the foul pool as well. The axe rose and plummeted in an executioner’s arc that split bone and flesh, freeing the squire of his head.

The northerner gathered the squire’s tabard and wrapped the head, the killer had no wish to peer upon its bloodied end or matted gory hair, as too often did it seem that the dead would peer back. The northerner left the corpse behind and slowly, somberly made his way to the Ildician Order’s fort which he had spent so much time, a year or more, he couldn’t remember. Though he remembered that he hated them, and they carved a message into his arm so that he might never forget. As he approached the fort’s ruined bridge he stopped, and threw the tabard wrapped head forward. It landed in the grass across the river, rolled, and came to rest at the foot of the fort.

 

He would never forget.

[Zeedus 73]

The fresh smell of blood and grass swept through the nights air like a rose springing to life before the eyes of a young child. Tyrannous Viserys, last of his name rested in a cot within the tent he shared with Tance. His dreams were filled with the memories of watching his brother constantly surpass him in everything he attempted to do, a nightmare when he witnessed the ancestral blade "Red Grace" being passed down to Garland rather than himself. He awoke suddenly to the sound of commotion outside. He immediately stood and dressed himself in his rough-span leather. He left the tent and approached towards the gate, his boots shuffling against the grass, he felt a pull in his chest as a rumble came to his head, a sort of warning of what was to occur. The Viserys clan had long been cursed with a plague known as "The Blood-died Cough" a curse in which it rendered whomever contracted it useless and weak to the family and doomed to die an early grave. The tradition that the Viserys had created was to go down fighting even if they did find themselves part of this curse. He had learnt that his brother had contracted it and planned on going down fighting, explaining the symptoms and sending the blade to Tyrannous before his death.

 

The unknown and at the same all too famous blade "Red Grace" was a blade forged generations before by what many people call the "First Visery" a blacksmith of the same name as was his had forged this blade and tempered it in the blade of his first born child. Though the story does not end there, the blade had also been fed the blood of the wife of the smith, leaving the second son left to carry the burden of the sword after the smith had passed on. And so it had been a tradition that the second son take on the burden of keeper of the blessed blade, said to be able to cut a man clean in half. The runes within the blade were said to hold the blood of the ancestors and gave the blade a magical power to sing as it was swung depending on the swing and how the warrior felt during the combat. If the blade was every to dull the wielder must reforge the blade and 

 

Tyrannous now held that blade in his hand after his elder brother, the first son had passed away due to the plight of the plague that he now felt tingling in his chest. Tye approached the gate and looked outwards and what he saw only caused his heart to race even faster, causing his blood to begin pumping at such a fast pace that it could only be described as "Blood Lust" he saw his mentor and friend, Tance holding some poor boy against his body and pressing a knife to his throat. A million ideas rushed through Tye's head at once and when Tance turned towards him and screamed, he heard the very shrill in Tance's voice.. was he scared..? Was he confused...? Or was he in a rage..?The only truth was that three armed brothers stood on the other side of his own. Tance, the dubbed "Lost Brother" by Tye himself. He had always searched for someone whom would treat him on an equal field, and Tance was that. Garland had always told Tye he was a weakling and could never live up to the legend placed on his name. But Garland was dead, and Tyrannous still lived. 

 

The events that took placed happened quickly, the words that the men spoke only flew over Tye's head like worthless pieces of paper. His eyes focused on each individual  as if trying to read what was going on without hearing the words... the only thing in his ears was the systematic pumping of his heartbeat as it increased and pulsed harder into his chest. He felt it coming  he was going to be rendered useless by the same curse that had done away his brother. He heard Tance's words, they had taken away his weapon and shield, in other means it would be nothing, however by Tance's words they were obviously all his brother had left in this realm to live for, without thinking of it he turned towards the commanding officer "Starke" and commanded he give him his weapons, quoting his own family motto "A northerner goes down with a blade in hand." Starke spoke the location within his own tent and Tyrannous quickly moved to retrieve the items, holding his chest as he moved across the field, he just needed to live a little longer, just a little longer to save his friend. Tyrannous said a silent prayer as he took up a second bastard sword and sheathed it on his waist, picking up Tance's axe and shield and bringing it back to the gate, raising it just in time for the bridge to collapse and the boy's life blood to spill freely into the rapids below. 

 

Tyrannous didn't have time to think, he threw the axe and shield into the rapids, hoping they would reach Tance by the time he hit shore, and rushed down the side of the bank as quick as his build could carry him, causing his heart to beat even faster and his lungs to stress harder as he made his way to the bank. He saw Tance then, already up and running and cursed picking up the shield and throwing it towards him, trying to get it to him by screaming out his name "Tance!" Tance had either not heard him, or had not cared for he just continued running. The other "Brothers" made their way across the river one by one until Starke was now standing in front of Tyrannous. He stood there, like a road block. And roared out as he drew the bastard sword from it's sheath and threw it with all his might towards him as he charged. He parried it carelessly, as Tyrannous had guessed and moved towards him. They spoke, if only for a moment before the squire had gotten around Tye and stabbed him through the back of the knee, taking him effortlessly to the ground. His body ached and his heart thudded against his chest and thundered in his ears. He stared at Starke, defiantly and began his speech "Ye.. promised 'im a 'ead days start ye bloody Cravens!" he roared in anger as his heart thundered only more into his ears.

 

A cold wind blew across bank of the river, the tall grass swaying and bending effortlessly and carelessly with the breeze as they tune of the song had quickly changed, the smell of blood now thick in the air. Tyrannous now half-knelled before Starke, forced into this position by the blade that pinned him to the ground. "Do ye know what treason you've committed  Tye?" Starke spoke in a very distasteful voice, emotionless as always in the gaze he gave. "I asked all ye wanted of me... I protected a brother when his own brothers attacked he..." he stared defiantly at Starke as the squire removed "Red Grace" from Tye's waist, dragging it with his scrawny arms towards Starke, he could tell that he had confused him slightly with what he had said, but as always those emotionless eyes showed no mercy nor anger. Tye felt his chest begin to heave, his heart convulsing, now becoming a booming drum over the rest of the world he could no longer hear Starke nor the boy, he couldn't even recall what was being said. The last thing he heard was the long, sad wail of the blade "Red Grace" coming down from the sky to take the last of it's cursed wielder's to a better land. He spoke before the blade had hit him

 

"I guess, I wasn't as strong as you.. brother.." 

 

 

The runes that were once filled with sound and wind was now filled with the thick red blood of Tyrannous Viserys, the last of his name. The soul of the last wielder was now free of the pain of the world. The world engulfed by War, Chaos, life, love, and Death. 

 

 

[Minea 124]

Starke McHaryn sat quietly in the sparsely decorated tent that was his temporary dwelling. His family blade Grim Claw lay horizontally across his knees, naked blade dully reflecting the moon light that shone through the half open tent flap. In recent days it was this action of physical contact with his blade that helped him to think, the familiar feel of the fine steel eased his swirling thoughts and sub consciously made him feel secure. His insides were a wash of emotions, anger, sadness, confusion but as always his sense of duty and honour reigned supreme within his waking consciousness. If one was to look at Starke right at that moment one would see no trace of emotion present, no anger or joy, just the neutral features of one who had become desensitized to the actions around him, one who had worshiped duty his whole life and so had developed an extreme ability to hide all sense of emotions.

 

A candle flickered on the table to Starke's right, the flame spluttering in one final effort before dying, the once tall wick now a melted pool of wax. Starke as always kept one ear open, so it was at that moment in deep thought that he heard the dull thump of something or someone landing with little grace over the strong walls of the Ildician Fort. Barechested and wearing only some light leather pants and boots, Starke rose silently and walked with the grace of one who had spent their whole life perfecting the art of coordination and movement, traits of extreme importance to a swordsman. Grim Claw lay in the familiar grasp of Starke's left hand, its nakedness a symbol of Starke's willingness to deal with any who would intrude.

 

Moving carefully Starke walked to the gate, goose bumps raised on his arms, whether from the nights cool air or perhaps something...else. A Grey Shirt knight was peering with an intense gaze into the darkness of the surrounding land outside their walls. He hadn't yet noticed his commanding officer's presence and was instead contemplating the thought of alerting Starke on what he perceived as movement in the darkness. Starke watched silently for a few moments before raising his voice.

 

"Sir Deson, I trust there is nothing of importance that has come to your attention?". The knight who was indeed Sir Deson turned around quickley before giving off a hasty salute.

 

"I thought I saw something sir... but perhaps it is my fatigue, I was watching as ever when suddenly I saw movement beyond the river?". Starke frowned in thought, usually he would have dismissed this as a startled rabbit or perhaps a wandering farmer, but no... something didn't feel right. The recent events of the last four days were fresh in his mind, just when he was about to return to his dwelling the shadow of an unrecognizable lump could be seen in the curve of the fortress walls. Starke remained motionless for a second then decided to investigate, walking over he narrowed his eyes to see the lump better, bending down he grabbed the lump and pulled it into the light reflecting off the watchman's torch. The lump appeared to be wrapped in the blood soaked tabard of a Grey Shirt Squire, the material badly torn, unwrapping the lump with a sense of dread Starke found dull dead eyes staring back at him, the face even in death was still twisted in what looked to be sheer terror with a touch of defiance. The only movement of Starke's face was a small quiver in his upper lip, to those watching it would appear Starke had found a lump of wood instead of the head of and Ildician squire by the name of Wendel Uppings. 

 

But Starkes insides were a rage of flaming, molten hatred and anger. Starke looked again at Wendel and remembered the promise he gave to Wendel's mother to keep him safe. The pit of his stomach hardened to a core of black passionate hatred and blood lust to the one who did it. In Starkes mind only one man was capable of doing this, only one man had the crazed attitude to want to do it. Speaking low and only so he could hear Starke whispered.

 

"The Oath Breaker walks again, and death will soon greet him". It was true, Tance Nikkelsen once grey shirt knight, now blood enemy was indeed walking and the evidence was gripped tightly by the hair in Starkes white knuckled hands.

[Lvke 1000]

((For all of those wondering, Minea will be inactive for a while, and thus, we will update with the new "leaders" of the Order))

[nj13 18]

Minecraft Name: njhill13

 

Character name: William Sunfeather

 

Char Bio (one or two paragraphs): William was born and raised in House Valois. Although he was not relative to this family, his parents had good and technical relations to them. Growing up as a human male, training with the other boys, his father and brother; he quickly adapted to the basic skills needed for the time being. Over time, Will's boyish body became more muscular as time went on, his hair long and rarely brushed. Spending a great majority of time in the Valois establishment, he never returned after his arrival in Asulon, where is step-mother had disappeared, and his father also. By this time, Will had reached that age of 16, and was over average in his athletic build. He learned to survive in with his brother and friends in Salvus. Trading between cities by selling game from the Wilds.

 

Now, at the age of 19; William is built, however still keeping an incredibly handsome complexion. His green eyes are unnatural, obtained from his birth mother; and his hair sits long and scruffy on his head. He speaks softly, calmly; and still has the ability to entertain those around him. His build as stayed relatively the same in the time spent hunting, not building; not decreasing. William now searches for a greater purpose to serve, one that he understands and would die for. After being comfronted by a stranger in the uniform with a bear emblem on the torso  his new path was laid out in front of him. At the point of giving up, he now had a choice, one that he had been waiting for his entire life.

 

Char military history: William joined a local vigilante guild named the Occulta, this is a private organisation. This only required stealth and the ability to use a sword, however his skills were rarely inserted into this job; and often simply ended in fights or assaults. He trained personally in House Valois for 8 years, to learn the basics of taking orders, hand-to-hand, and sword fighting. His skills with the bow are average.

 

Reason for joining: Having the order explained personally to him, and his need to turn his life around; Will thought greatly on the matter, before deciding fully how much he had appreciated the opportunity. His life could now be turned around, on the right track, the right path.

 

Timezone: NZD Pacific time.

 

Referees to your app (people willing to support the information given if asked by Minea):

 

Time on Server: 1 year+

 

Skype Name: njhill13

 

Pledge of Loyalty: I, William Sunfeather, do solemnly swear to serve the Ildician Order until death or release from the binds of this vow. I shall use my skill to protect the grand leaders of the Adunia and in turn the people they lead, I shall bring honour to my race and my Order, and I shall prove myself worthy to hold a position among it. If I am to forsake this oath, may my head be swept from my body and my remains left to rot, never to join my forefathers in the lands beyond. I swear this oath upon my life and all that I hold dear, before the leaders of our race and the [god/gods] above.

 

Ildician Knight willing to be my master: Sir Leon "The Burning Cross" 

[hjgklmn0ajuvxc 688]

Minecraft Name: njhill13

 

Character name: William Sunfeather

 

Char Bio (one or two paragraphs): William was born and raised in House Valois. Although he was not relative to this family, his parents had good and technical relations to them. Growing up as a human male, training with the other boys, his father and brother; he quickly adapted to the basic skills needed for the time being. Over time, Will's boyish body became more muscular as time went on, his hair long and rarely brushed. Spending a great majority of time in the Valois establishment, he never returned after his arrival in Asulon, where is step-mother had disappeared, and his father also. By this time, Will had reached that age of 16, and was over average in his athletic build. He learned to survive in with his brother and friends in Salvus. Trading between cities by selling game from the Wilds.

 

Now, at the age of 19; William is built, however still keeping an incredibly handsome complexion. His green eyes are unnatural, obtained from his birth mother; and his hair sits long and scruffy on his head. He speaks softly, calmly; and still has the ability to entertain those around him. His build as stayed relatively the same in the time spent hunting, not building; not decreasing. William now searches for a greater purpose to serve, one that he understands and would die for. After being comfronted by a stranger in the uniform with a bear emblem on the torso  his new path was laid out in front of him. At the point of giving up, he now had a choice, one that he had been waiting for his entire life.

 

Char military history: William joined a local vigilante guild named the Occulta, this is a private organisation. This only required stealth and the ability to use a sword, however his skills were rarely inserted into this job; and often simply ended in fights or assaults. He trained personally in House Valois for 8 years, to learn the basics of taking orders, hand-to-hand, and sword fighting. His skills with the bow are average.

 

Reason for joining: Having the order explained personally to him, and his need to turn his life around; Will thought greatly on the matter, before deciding fully how much he had appreciated the opportunity. His life could now be turned around, on the right track, the right path.

 

Timezone: NZD Pacific time.

 

Referees to your app (people willing to support the information given if asked by Minea):

 

Time on Server: 1 year+

 

Skype Name: njhill13

 

Pledge of Loyalty: I, William Sunfeather, do solemnly swear to serve the Ildician Order until death or release from the binds of this vow. I shall use my skill to protect the grand leaders of the Adunia and in turn the people they lead, I shall bring honour to my race and my Order, and I shall prove myself worthy to hold a position among it. If I am to forsake this oath, may my head be swept from my body and my remains left to rot, never to join my forefathers in the lands beyond. I swear this oath upon my life and all that I hold dear, before the leaders of our race and the [god/gods] above.

 

Ildician Knight willing to be my master: Sir Leon "The Burning Cross" 

The way the order works as changed, slightly.. If you could make the application on the new thread that'd be great :) But its up to Tuna if this one gets accepted. http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/87116-ildician-order/ Thanks for putting all the effort in though.

[3andD 1716]

This current Guild has been deemed inactive and has hereby been moved.

If you wish to appeal this decision you must present evidence to myself proving the guild is still active.