[Denied]Alex Gartheld 6 (And Hopefully Last) Va (2A,2C)

[Noer 577]

MC Name:jojoma11

Character Name:Alexander Gartheld

Character Alignment (Lawful Good, Neutral, Lawful Evil, etc.): Chaotic Good/Neutral

Why do you believe you are such alignment?
Alex, Although his methods are horrid, and his means of obtaining what
he wants cruel, wishes for abetter Oren and fights to free them of the
Hightower, who he sees incompetent and arrogant, and Anyone who supports The Horen-Hightower Regime, along with all other nobles.

Character Race:Have you read, and are familiar with all server rules and villain rules? Yes, I am aware of the rules.
Are you sure? I believe so.

Links to ANY and ALL (Denied and Accepted for any character) previous villain applications (for reference):


http://www.lordofthe...va-3-2ab-2c-1c/
http://www.lordofthe...s-va-2-2a2b2c1c

http://www.lordofthe...-garthelds-va1/
http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/87387-alec-garthelds-new-va-2a2c/
http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/87813-alec-garthelds-5th-va-2a2c/
 

 

/What sort of Villain are you looking to be?: I am looking to be a deranged freedom fighter, attacking a lost cause and slowly growing into madness. I plan on killing people, providing interesting rp as my rp has lately become so dry that Imight as Well die completely. I like this characater, so this is my last chance to keep him.

What
SPECIFIC evils does your character plan on committing? Please list the
number of each Evil you would like to be considered for, and
specifically when/why you need them:
 

#1:
2a: Alex's darker side realizes he needs to kill to destroy the
Hightowers Regime, and he plans to do it in any way possible.
#2: 2c:
Alex's passion is to make the nobles who he strives to destroy suffer,
if that means to kidnap and torture them, he is not below it. He plans on selling nobles into slavery.

Biography (We recommend your application be between 2-5 paragraphs. No walls of text):


We start
with A child. This child is neither poor nor rich, and was happy with his life.
Raised under a now deceased uncle, he roamed the streets of Arethor from the
point that his uncle died. First, he was forced to overcome the cold. He ran
about, afraid, with only a small cloak shriveled by the downpours of rain that
have haunted him for a few months. He begins to feel extreme jealousy for those
who see him as a weakling and underserving of help.

            Next, we transition into the
life of a teenager, only barely 13, with a dagger in boot and a cloak hiding
his face. He lived in the alleyways, carving his home slowly and steadily as he
robbed all of those who came his way so that he may survive. He wore a wooden
mask, with only eye slits, and constantly moved from place to place. Out of
desperation, he began to steal from businesses, like fisheries or bakeries, and
even fetched food deemed unhealthy if he had to. Yet the boy remained strong in
his endeavor, and he began to work for small amounts.

             Now, we observe a young man. He has lived
under the roof of a tavern ever since 15, yet hasn’t shaken off his once
necessity to steal. He enjoyed creating small fires, to startle some people. He
had become a lower class citizen, yet he still wanted more. He noticed people
like him wandering the streets. He would see them beg, and he would hand out
bread and minas where he could. Yet he still felt empty, as if something was
missing still. Then, he had his first kill. He became enraged, as he watched as
guardsmen were robbing the poorest of the streets, and beating them. He began
to see his vision blur, as he unsheathed his small scimitar. He yelled at the
men, and they laughed. They laughed at him, and when one attacked him to prove
his dominance he stabbed him through the gut, and he felt the hole inside him
fill. He had found his true purpose: To kill the unjust who believed themselves
higher than him.

            Now we see a guardsman. He had
felt strange, afterwards. After ten years he had become afraid of himself,
joining
the guard to prove to himself he was not a monster. He was ridiculed by
his  constables, and worse, Lancel, yet was stronger and more skilled
than any other in his troop. He was exiled for no just means by the
prince and he came to terms with his madness. He saw the effects the
hightowers had cause, corruption, racism, and poverty, and he believed
that to free the broken,
beaten and the weak spirited of this plague of ignorance, he must avenge them
by giving them safe havens. He rebelled, and the rebellion grew. He plans to
kill those who are closest to the corrupt leader, as he inhabits the wilds
building his rebellion every day, fighting in the shadows and not wasting a moment.


Question Section - Answer with as much detail as necessary
Why
does your character do what he/she does, what drives them to do it?
What are his/her motives, and are there any complications that cause
him/her to disregard them, or is it the other way around? Alex,
as I said, is a very violent person. He'd do anything to make his
enemies, the Hightowers, suffer, and his motivation is from when he was
banished as a shield and humiliated. The only person who really holds
him back from insantiy and blood-lust is his wife Kyaia, who stands
loyal to him every minute. Alex Would not be above killing "the Average Joe", as Long as they support Oren.

What situations does your character prepare for ahead of time? How does he/she do this?

Alex
prepares for many situations, but over all of them he considers failure
a likely thing. He Fights a losing battle, and he knows it, so he plans
to die with a show. He prepares for battle with a spatha, A roman
slicing blade, and a flask of flammable whiskey along with a short bow if
he is planning to kill.

Does your
character trust in himself, or does he believe his abilities are due to
some other driving force? Does he boast the truth of it or suppress all
hint of it?What moral boundaries does your character adhere to, if any?

My
character trusts in nobody but himself and the creator. he is truthful, and
though he wishes the hightowers to fall, he does not wish for the blood
of oren's people to be spilled under his sword, the commoners, that is. He thinks that Nobility have made an iron fist on the people, and that their men help them in their occupation. He Believes that It Is
his duty to end the terror of their regime, as he has seen many suffer
and even more die.

What are some
notable strengths and weaknesses of your character? What might cause
him/her to falter? Include things such as temptations, addictions,
physical handicaps, etc.

Alex's Strengths:

Swordsmanship
: 9/10. Alex has achieved almost perfection with his blade, as it is
simple and sturdy. He moves fluently and prepares for most strikes,

Charisma:
7/10. Alex's talent in speech-craft is what makes him a profound
leader. He Makes deals with the right people and has a tongue full of
propaganda.

Alex's Weaknesses:

Trust: 3/10. Alex has a problem. He trusts everyone, except those who are his enemies. This leads to his downfall many times.

Bloodlust:
1/10. Alex has a mode of such aggression that he becomes death itself.
He Has no feelings, he Kills first then talks later, and he shows no
signs of rationality and this causes him to be weak.
 

What role will your character play in Asulon? What separates them and makes them unique and original among villains?

The
transition of my character is what makes Alex different from the other
"villains". He goes from a freedom fighter to a ruthless anarchist, and
plans on keeping his cause intact. He Fights with zeal, yet cunning. 
Alex fears his own self more than anything, and often tries to restrain
his fury and cast it onto himself to prevent others from dying.

Is your character loyal or a backstabber? To what extent would he/she go?
 Alex, As i said, is extremely loyal and would die for his cause or his friends in a heartbeat.
The only thing that keeps his feet on the ground is his wife, and she seems to grow ever more distant.

Does your character trust the words or actions of others? Why and to what extent?
Yes,
Alex would trust all of his allies to the end, and believes that there
is good in most people, even those who have black hearts.

Why do you as a player wish to and deserve to play a villain?
I think that I require to have a VA To develop this character, so I think that This is a logical step in his progress.

Open
Response - Answer at least five out of the seven listed, assume you are
accepted for the Evils you applied for. Do not powergame, metagame, or
do anything else illegal or unrealistic. Each scenario is designed with
no particular objective in mind and is open ended deliberately. Assume
your character is in each position, regardless of their normal
situations:

A
middle aged man, a young wife, and a small male child are walking down
upon the Anthos Highway. The women walks with a long staff, and the man
appears to have a scabbard at his side.


I notice the man has a shield's uniform on. "Hail, master shield," I
beckon. He unsheathes his blade, glaring at me.

"I know you are of the
rebellion, scum. Leave now and keep your life." his blade is shaking,
obviously he has some problem in his bones such as Arthritis. I walk forward,
attempting to talk him into peace. "I come not here for bloodshed, but to
inform you of the error of your ways. You are given your title in your command,
yet it is an illusion for they would rather toss you aside for a sack of gold.
Lower your weapon, warrior, so that no bloodshed shall exist on this day."
The man slackens his grip, then takes his sword up again. "Nae, ye silver
tongued coward! Ye Shall not persuade me to betray my master!" He charges
forward, as the wife and child run to a nearby willow tree.

          
A battle begins, with a flail of swords  I stumble back, my rage over
taking me now as I see the man confident. I went easy on him and he had
stricken me back, so there I attack now with full zeal. I swing my Spatha, a
sword meant for clean stabbing and cutting, and make a swing at his side of the
neck. he blocks as I expected. Before our blades clash, I perform a feint,
arcing my blade over his head and swinging downward, hoping to wound him so
that he may not fight. A slicing noise is heard as the child screams and the
wife moans, the man not quick enough to block the other strike. He kneels on
the ground, a deep cut on his shoulder, piercing into the neck. I stab my sword
into the ground, as the man feints out of pain. The wife, disregarding me,
rushes to her husband's side, crying now with such pain that I cannot bear to
watch.

       
I rummage in my bag, looking for what I seek. I pull out the needle and string,
looking at the size of the cut. The Spatha has ravaged an artery, judging form
the blood that is gushing out of his side. My face darkens, looking at the
carnage that I performed. "I... Apologize for your loss..." I manage
to say. The wife glares back at me, tears in her eyes.

"You.... are a monster... You..
killed him." she wails, crying against him as the blood spreads across the
ground. At that moment I realize he had cut me in his original charge. A gash
that i had not notice appears on my side, thin though because of the blade's
metal, curved and thin as paper at the top.  Yet the gash, I could feel,
had cut me deep enough to cause some serious bleeding. I use my needle to the
best of my ability, my medicine skills not exactly professional. The cut stops
its bleeding, but it still is open enough for infection. I  keep walking,
avoiding the child's gaze as i make my way back to my fortress. The cut begins
to worsen, and I fall to the ground. and the blood begins to spill, the last
thing I see before blacking out is a wagon wheel speeding down the dirt road.
Luckily, I collapse near a comrade's outpost in the wilds, and he found me as
he was speeding down the roadway in a carriage. He brings me back to my tower
where I was treated, yet I forever will be weaker on that side.

 

You
hear knocking on your door and go to answer. It turns out to be an
angry looking woman with a large human behind her. She is telling you
that you owe taxes to the hierarchy of the nearest nation, and must pay
within the fortday.


    I slam the
door shut "I have no allegiance to any king, wench. Leave me be, before I
make ye regret bothering me." A large meaty hand slams against the door
frame, making a loud thump as I run up my front staircase in thy kitchen, with
a large skinning rack in the corner of the room with gathered rabbits and
pheasants, along with garlic and salt piles. I climb up the wooden frame,
reaching my top floor. I reach under thy bed, finding my old crossbow from when
I was a Shield, and I mount it at the bottom of the stairs. next, I look for my
weapons chest, as this "House" is really a safe house for rebels in
need. I pull out a quiver of bolts and a piece of parchment and an ink sack,
hearing a loud kick now at the door, and the wooden door starts to break, the
wood splintering. I write a hasty note, wrapping it to my hawk's leg. I hand it
the leg of a pheasant i was eating up in the bedroom, and it speeds off into
the
night. I quickly put my foot an the bar at the end of the crossbow,
yanking the crank backwards, loading in a bolt with my other hand. I put
enough pressure on it as more wood starts to splinter, and I hear
screaming from outside. I pick the bolt up and curse myself as it has
been 15 seconds wasted trying to fire it. A hand reaches through a
crater in the wooden door.
I fire the bolt at the hand, my speed making the loaded bolt sloppily aimed. It
hits right between the tips of his fingers, as he retracts his hand in shock
for a moment before yanking the door handle and opening the door. The man has a
large,
yet amusingly baby-like face with a bald hair cut. I stab the my sword
into the ground, preparing to fight. For only a second I
let my guard
down before I ready my next bolt, staring down at the man. as i crank
the bolt back, jamming my foot at the metal circle in the end of the
crossbow, and slide an arrow in. Time seems to freeze as we stare at
each-other.  I size him up, and pull the readied crossbow. He has a
large leather chest-plate on, with a solid chain-mail vest inside. I
fire the
bolt again, this time trying to aim in a proper way this time. I fire the bolt,
it slams him in the upper-right chest, as I see it pierce the leather and hear
no clink of metal, so I assume that I went through the chain mail. He grunts,
Pulling out a blood soaked arrow. It was clear that I injured him, but I had a
lot more damage to do if I were to escape.

          
He begins going up the stairs, his left hand is covering the wound, and he is
only
slwoly moving up, clearly he might be in a sort of shock. I load
another bolt, this time faster the two before it. I hear a click, and it
is ready to fire.  I slip my boot fluently out of the metal oval, and
the man is now half way up the stairs, and now desperate I fire the bolt
towards his other other shoulder, around the heart. I
fire, and it is half lodged in between the chain mail.  Cursing, I pull my
sword out of the ground, and use my elevation to my advantage. I throw my crossbow onto the ground.          

         We begin tofight, the second bolt making him more disoriented. My ruddy aim will be my downfall, I think, as we clash swords me swinging form the left and him
from the right, then I perform my favorite move, I call it the crescent moon.
First, I swing diagonal-downward-left towards his neck, as he raises his blade
to protect his jugular. Next I feint the blade raising it high and swing from
the right this time, but not before he jabs his b lade outward. Although he was
weakened, I could feel the blade penetrate my lower stomach as I  wince,
and I sweep the blade into his next, cutting the windpipe clearly in half.

         
We both look at each other for a moment, before he falls off the stairs. I spit
up blood, a fountain of it protruding out of my spleen.  I hear someone
rush to the door, opening it and looking at me. It is Jakir, simple minded yet
loyal to me. He rushes to my side, and tries to control the bleeding. Both of
us can hear the slamming of boots outside the house, a squadron of guards
approaching.I give him a sword, and we both look at the door with readiness for
the end.

Sitting
in a tavern, you hear two men talking in hushed voices
upstairs.Sneaking up the stairs, you see a man robed in black and a
local guard. The man seems to be revealing a opposing nation’s plan for a
raid to a guard. You can’t tell if the man in black is betraying the
other nation, or if it is vice-versa.

Two
Guards try to break up a fight between an acquaintance of yours and
twoGoblins. Your friend slays one of the Guards as he approaches,
causing the other Guard as well as the Goblins to unsheath their arms.


   
I glare at my friend "The feck have ye done?" A shout at him,
grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back. the Goblins and the guard chase
after us with speed and precaution, the goblins with very well forged swords
about 2 feet long, glowing a sickly green, and the guard's a stabbing blade,
about 3 feet long with a double sided edge. My friend trips on a stone,
skidding his knee before stumbling back up. The guard gets to him first. I retreat
a good 100 meters, the guards having taken what I desire. The man I was with
however,was going to join my cause. I stay behind some shrubbery as I try to
listen in on the conversation.  The goblins sound outraged "Leet Ush
Hab dah Skah! Weeb Take Skah to dah Uruk home!"

"Nae," the guard says
"He'll be taken to Salvus and executed. If you would like to take it up
with the Constables, go ahead."  I grin as I hear where they are
going.

      
Speed the situation to two days later. I now sit by the ruined tower staring
over the pink willows to the Salvus gates. They shine with battle scars and men
align themselves on the top of the gates. I feast on a few loaves of bread, and
slide down to the river separating the gate and my nomadic home. I hide in the branches
of the willows, awaiting a cart of hay to pass by. As soon as I see a cart of
supplies, I climb down, using a brown cloak to hide myself from the caravan
driver's view, as i climb into the back. I await a few moments, before we
arrive in the city.

      
I stumble out of the cart, racing to the left alleyways of the city. I see
guards come around a corner, one armed and another carrying what appears to be
a staff. Cover the cloak over my head, crossing my arms as they walk around,
passing me with a few furtive glances. Once they pass out of site, I shuffle
along into a stone wall, providing a barrier  to the shield palace in
where my friend resides. Next, I move towards the wooden lift. I slowly would
walk towards the gateway, before I notice an unarmed guard watching the
gateway. "time to test my Acting skills," i murmer. "Guard! Help
me! please! Thy son has fallen into a state of unholy spasms in the alleyways!
Come, Assist me in this plight!" I bellow,

The guard follows me into the
alleyway, as I unsheathe my blade and lunge for the back of his neck.  My
blade is clean and sleek, as I penetrate his upper spine. the blade passes
through, stabbing out of the front of his mouth as blood gushes out of it, and
he flails wildly for a moment before slacking off and he falls to the ground,
dead. My vision blurs, as I question myself if what I have done was just. I try
to control my anger and confusion, as I hear a loud thwank! I close my
eyes, the anger over taking me now as all the blood rushes to my head as I
realise that I was too late, and that my friend had been executed.  The
next moments are a blur of red, and I do not remember what happened. All I can
remember is that i myself am in their prison now, with my blade stained with
the blood of many and my hands bound tight and my mind completely unraveled.

As
you turn the corner into a dimly lit alley, a pair of young
femalehalflings instantly run up to you. They are begging for a donation
of either minas or food.

 

       
I smile "Here, mistreated children of Oren, take these coins and bread.
you may accompany me to my establishemtn for a home if you wish." Thanks
mister!" one says, smiling brightly.

"I only ask for one thing in
return." I declare, sounding gentle. The girls become uneasy, staring at me.

"What's that?" they ask,
giving furtive glances at each-other as if asking if I can be trusted.

"Join my ranks" I ask,
"fight the people who have knocked you down to begging for food." The
girls seem to be frozen, not sure what to do. "I.. I.. Okay..." one
says and she walks up to me, staying by my side. The other follows. We arrive
at my wooden fort, where i set up woolen beds and fish served to them.

        
They grow onto my lifestyle, and they settle down as cooks for the troops. A
few months later, I walk around when I run into them again "Ah, Hello,
Girls, I see you have found yourself comfortable in these conditions?"

"Yes Sir!" they say, a
little too happy. "We are very happy, we have been getting used to this
place for a while but it isn't so bad!"  I know they are up to
something now, none of my men are so happy with their condition. I walk away,
and trail them back to the large tower rising over my fort. I hide on the
outside part of the gate as I hear them talk. "Quick! Get the bread from
the chest!" I begin to try to move into the tower. I slide to the right
side, watching them carefully. I notice they have a large woolen sack on their
backs, and they seem to be loading loot into them. I step out of hiding,
rushing up to the girls and unsheathing my blade "Traitorous scum!"

both of their small daggers are unsheathed from their belts "Get back! I..

I don't want to kill you!" They have not killed anyone before, it is
obvious in the shaking of her voice. "Drop your blade and give me the bags,
scum!" I now point my blade directly out towards the first girl a little older
than the other, around 17. "No! I'll.. I'll cut ye up so bad you'll be thought to be a kitchen
delivery!" The frightened girl whimpers. I see my vision blur, the darkest
part of my mind wishing to escape. I swing my blade back, slashing downward as
a squeal can be heard, and blood splattering can be seen. I stumble back, my
vision clearing, and I see what I have done. I have struck the eldest girl
across
the chest with my blade cutting through her chest. She pants, faintly
able to even breath. Her sister begins to scream and rushes to her side.
I stumble back, sitting down now. My vision
is completely clear now, I see the blood on my sword as I start to Sob.
"What monster Have I become?' I wail, for days and days, not realizing
that I need to keep fighting.

You
are in the human capital, in the city square. Quickly a noisy crowd
ofnobles and wealthy merchants form around you, mostly of humans, but
peppered with other races as well. The crowd's loud chatter is silenced as the Emperor appears, with several guards on either side of him, to address his people. The Emperor begins to talk to the crowd about a plan of attack against the War-Nation of the Orcs. The crowd is very packedand doesn't leave a lot of space for free movement, but you are able to push through people.

 

    I nod to the hooded men on the other
side of the crowd. We both stride across the stone floors, heading in the
direction of the palace. I notice several shields guarding it, due to Lancel and
his men having to arrive here with the rest of Oren's armies. I begin to
quicken my pace, treading lightly still as I bump into a few beggars, tossing
them a few coins. I tap my friend Ike on the shoulder, as we move to the left
of the crowd into an inn. There, sits an unconscious barmaid and another rebel.
We all slowly walk up the stairs, Ike and the other man with crossbows in hand.
We take a right, going into a room where a window portraying the outside can be
seen. I smash the window with my metal boots, not loud enough to be heard with
the ruckus outside.     
Ike readies the crossbow as the other watches the door. I lean next to him,
whispering "You know who to shoot." He nods, "Today, sir, do we
send our message?" I smile, looking  at him with such a confident
look that you could tell I was sure. "Aye, today we shall send Lancel a
message, one to make him regret treating his people this way. Today, We kill
the emperor." I smile deviously now, staring at his majesty lecturing the
people. "Ready the bolt." I declare, and Ike loads it in.

     He mounts it, starting through the cross-hair at the emperor. As I look at him, I
remember all of my sorrows that were caused by the dictator. I see my wife,
Kyaia, my son, Kaymouth, my uncle, and the beggars that I killed, my vision
blurs, and I whisper something "Do it." The bolt is dipped in oil,
and lit by a torch, the flames, dim due to the cold wet weather, and is shot
towards the emperor. The emperor seems to loose his footing, as the shiny liquid
on the ground can be clearly seen. the oil had been placed there the night
before, seeping into the wood itself with a gloss of it applied before the
emperor arrived. This handiwork was from the hooded men on the other side of
the crowd, who now all unsheathe their swords. The bolt slams into the wood,
setting the entire pedestal alight, the flames surrounding the emperor. The
Shields engage the rebels, as I walk down to the streets. A mass panic has
happened, great deals of people running. i approach the scene with a smile,
unsheathing my sword.

An
old lady has fallen by a tree on the Anthos Highway. She calls for
yourhelp just as you round the corner. She appears to be holding onto a
bag, tucked under her arm. Upon closer inspection you notice three
others around her, some armed, but all dead.


Add any note you may want the VAT to see, here:
I've been working on this for a while, and I have fixed most problems that Are listed. I have noted that Alex Would kill the Average Joe if it is a necessity, and Alex plans on killing any noble or soldier he can. So Now that All of your questions are answered, i think I deserve that VA :P.


- Reference Form - Do not fill this out yourself.
Change the '@@@' into your answer(s) (You may remove this when posting)Do you know the applicant IC/OOC? -
Do you think the applicant will abide by the VA rules?How
is the applicant IC/OOC? Are they prone to rage if something does not
go in their favor. Would this affect how they RP their character?
Does the applicant break character and bring OOC into RP. (aside from the times one may need to use OOC to describe an action)-
Does the applicant troll? If so how much, and would it affect the way they RP if they come across someone they dislike.
Would the applicant willingly put himself into a situation they would not come out as the winner.
Is the applicant's RP generally fun for everyone, not just for themself/friends.[/i][/color]
[color=#40e0d0]Are the evils chosen for the character relevant to the character. If not which do you think they need / don't need.
[color=#40e0d0]Please provide a screenshot(or multiple) of an RP session with the applicant in question.

[MonkeyCoffee 516]

...Erm...Denied? You posted in the wrong forum :P

[MonkeyCoffee 516]

Moved to Denied Forum