[✔] [Accepted] [Human] Wakaton's Application

[Wakaton 0]

Out-Of-Character
Information

Please fill out the
following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details
are accurate.



Minecraft Account Name: Wakaton

How old are you?: 15

Time-Zone: GMT -4:00

Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Yes

What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: I have roleplayed on
servers in Grand Theft Auto SA, usually on a mod called MTA (Multi Theft Auto)

How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: Google

Link any applications that you have previously made for the server: N/A

Have you posted this application on the Minecraft Forum? If not, then please do
so (link above): ((Sorry! Can't place the application on the forums! Don't know why, help is appreciated, thanks!))

Have you read the Human lore, and shall you ensure you make use of it and
follow it in your biography?: Yes



Definitions

In your own words define the
following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:



Role-playing: The ability to adorn a new personality, and to act as though you were
that person to the best of your ability, also trying to be as realistic as
possible.

Meta-gaming: The use of OOC knowledge that you otherwise had no ability to
obtain previously.

Power-emoting: The forced Roleplays on other players, usually giving yourself
an unfair advantage over most.



In-Character
Information:

Complete the following
biography on your character:



Full Name: Damien Riechan (Ry-kin)

Current Age: 23

Sub-race (if any): Human, Northerner (With Southron blood)

Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long):

 

 

 Damien was raised in a small village in the North of Oren, surrounded by the woods.

His father had taken care of him from birth after his mother had left him, whom
he was told was a Southron (No name was given). His father, as hard as he
tried, wasn't able to take care of him all the time, so the majority of the
time he was raised by a nanny who was to be addressed simply as Mam. She was a
rather portly woman, large in figure and rounded as well, usually accompanied
by her trademark wool cap and clothing. She was well known in the village for
her knitting and boasted that she made all of her clothing herself, going as
far as stating that her mother never allowed her to wear clothing that was knit
by another, this policy stretching as far back as child-birth (She was covered
in blankets in order to   fight against the Northern weather). Mam
was a phenomenal story-teller, entrancing Damien night after night with her
tales of heroes and villains, tragedies and comedies. She spoke of tales King Godfrey I's conquests, King Edmund Sheffield's corruption, and of the legendary Teutonic Order.

Mam even provided her own
tutoring service, giving Damien basic lessons on arithmetic and language.

Damien was usually an outcast to his peers due to his more Southron
resemblance. He managed to make few friends, ones that were able to talk to him
despite his differences. He was apprenticed to be a woodsman, but was not
handled by his father due to the biased feelings that may surface during hours
of training. During his free time he enjoyed to collect and tinker with things,
though he was not exposed to a large array of items. The usual item he would
find of interest would be an old pickaxe, or an irregularly shaped eating
utensil. His most prized position was an old iron dirk, that was surprisingly
spared of rust due to its burial in a worn leather pouch. He had found it under
a stump that he had helped his master remove, cocooned for who knows how long
by its roots. There was nothing unique about this item. The grip was plain oak
stained to give it its dark appearance and had small intricate designs that
told unknown tales. Its pommel was a simple iron ball, only slightly wider than
the handle. The crossguard was also small in length, barely reaching the
knuckle of his index finger. The blade itself was especially nothing to boast
of. It was almost completely dull due the years of use by its previous owner.
He was allowed to keep it due to his hard work that morning, and it was
expected of him to actually sell it. Yet he found something else in the item
other than monetary value; the fact that it belonged to him, and him alone.

In between lessons with Mam and working for his master, he found time to
perform daily maintenance on his prize with a whetstone, soon enough restoring
it back to its razor-sharp potential.

His life had been easy and simple, with no complications in sight, until the
Raid.

After escaping from his home and into the backwoods, he ran endlessly, fear
coursing through his blood


 

I haven't forgotten the day
they poured over the walls, their scruffiness almost bringing about pity from
the villagers. Yet they had no mercy planned for that evening. Vengeance was
placed on everyone, the crime unforeseen and the punishment the same for each.
Those that didn’t manage to flee the scene met the cold steel of a bandit, no
matter age or gender. Several raiders had begun drenching the wooden shacks
with oil and lobbed torches onto the roofs. I witnessed a home that housed 13
generations, engulfed in flame within the second. Once the last timber fell
into the ash beneath it no trace of its history was left behind. 

During the raid I was at
home, playing with the new saxe knife my father had given me the hour before.
Shouts and screams oozed through the windows and when I looked out, I saw Mam,
who was hanging the laundry, grow a long steel blade from her stomach. She was
gutted before my eyes, and as much I wanted to I couldn’t look away.
We  made eye-contact and the last words teetering from her lips was
‘Run’.



And so I did.

As he made his way out of the house the only items he had thought of carrying

with him was his saxe knife and dirk, those two prizes the nearest to him at
the time. Carrying it inside a small cloth bundle tied together with string, he
rushed out the back door and into the woods surrounding his wooden home. As the
sounds of killing gradually began to succumb to the distance and the day, his
toe hooked into the root of a tree that poked out of the ground. He twisted at
an odd angle as it was the exact moment he was about to turn, pain shooting up
his leg as he collapsed. He immediately dropped the assortment of belongings
onto the ground, camouflaging well with the undergrowth. Immediately his shout
drew attention, and soon he was surrounded by three bandits, wolves who were
coasting the woods for any stray sheep.

Grasping at his ankle he looked above to the three, each with an ugly grin that
showed a set of yellowed teeth. “Well now, who do we gut ‘ere? How sweet, he
gone ‘n sprained his ankle fer us, just so he can’t run. Isn’t he
considerable?” One of them let loose a laugh that scared the birds from the treetops.
Another slowly placed one knee on the ground, in his hand a dagger that was
quickly pressed against Damien’s throat. “We’ll just have to slit yer throat
right ‘ere now don’ we? Yessir…

Oh yes…” Before the villain could conduct such an act Damien shot his hand to
his left, grasping the first thing that was within reach. His dirk.

Damien’s original plan of trajectory was the man’s shoulder, but as he turned
to address his companions the dirk buried its blade into his chest. He went
wide-eyed, surprise dawning upon his face at first, soon followed by horror and
realization. Collapsing onto the ground with subtle thud, the others
immediately drew their swords and were prepared to cut him into pieces. A lone
arrow that dug its way into one of their backs was the intervention that saved
his life. Falling onto the ground, the last remaining bandit turned, wild as he
desperately tried to work past his confusion. It overrided his primal instinct
to run, and immediately that mistake was made obvious after another arrow was
shot forward, finding home at his adam’s apple. A dark figure rushed forward to
assist him up, offering his oak longbow as a cane. Damien nodded his gratitude,
wishing to voice it as well until the stranger pressed a finger against his
lips, the universal sign of silence.

Several years later, Damien is dismissed from the hospitality of Juno Salck,
the stranger who saved him that night. He was living for years in his lone
cabin, learning basic skills such as how to sling a bow or how to skin an animal.
He quickly recovered from his sprained ankle, regaining the ability to walk
within the fortnight. But it was his mental health that over the years would
take the most amount of time to heal.

 

With the mountains of Hanseti only within a days walk, he set out upon the path, in order to finally find a place to call home.





Ambitions for the
Future: Engage in
a career that would support him well enough. Live a humble and stable life.

Personality: Kind and gentle, carefree but serious
when the situation warrants it. Slightly nervous around large groups of people,
and finds it hard not to fumble over words in a conversation.

Skills: A woodsman. Novice knowledge of a bow
and Average knowledge of a dirk.

Appearance (this must
include an in-game screenshot of your skin): Covered in a leather tunic and cloth
clothing. Leather boots and gloves.

Me: 

Any other details you
wish to share about your character:



Open-Response-Questions

Each question in this
section must be answered with a minimum of one paragraph which must describe
the event in full. Please be as descriptive as possible and do not break
character or lore at any point.

____



1. Whilst in the mighty
human capital you notice a dark-clothed figure stealthily making his way
towards the Emperor’s palace - he is clearly up to no good. There are guards
within shouting distance - what do you do?

Answer: Damien Riechen eyes the fellow for a moment, carefully examining his
movements as the figure continues to approach the palace. As he sees that the
person is attempting to overcome the gates, he would cup his hands around his
mouth, emanating a shout from his lungs. The stranger would suddenly turn,
realizing his plan was thwarted and would attempt to dart back into the
shadows. Realizing this Damien would begin to pursue, only to find himself lost
in the numerous alleyways that snake their way around the city. As he
approaches the guards a sheepish grin adorns his face as he shrugs in
confirmation that he lost the man.

2. Whilst wandering in
the deep oak forest you come across a large clearing, in which sits a small
cobbled cottage. Outside it stands an unstable old man armed with a small iron
blade, surrounded by two heavily armed bandits - they appear to be threatening
him. You are armed with leather armour and an iron longsword, how do you react?

Answer: Damien Riechen slowly makes his way to a nearby bush, carefully keeping
his eye on the situation as it gradually unfolds before him. It soon becomes
obvious that it’s a robbery, and that they have no intent on letting the old
man live. He ponders his options, his forehead creasing with concentration. He
comes to a conclusion that it would not rest on his conscience well enough if
he was to simply leave the old man to his fate, and rises to his feet. Throwing
a shout across the clearing, the guards turn to face him, each wondering why he
was dumb enough to approach in the first place. Damien slowly drops his sword
to the ground, his hands continued to be raised above his head as he surrenders
immediately. He instructs the bandits that he has a large sum of minas inside
his pocket, and he’s willing to spare them if they are willing to do the same
with the old man’s life. Knowing that this is the best outcome of the situation
with the minimal amount of bloodshed, they agree to the terms and grab hold of
the small sack of coins, as well as Damien’s sword and armor.

3. You are standing
within the mighty human capital when you notice a small man standing behind a
colourful stall. You approach the stall and notice that the man is selling a
variety of general goods - he says that he is selling just about anything and
that he has no set prices. He is willing to allow you to haggle and choose
prices. What do you do? (Explain: your haggling, items of choice and the
discussion that happens).

Answer: Damien Riechen strolls towards the stall, making his presence obvious
as he peers down the long line of wares. He gently scratches his chin as he
thinks, nodding at the various levels of quality. A small leather bound book
catches his eyes, and as he leafs through its dry pages he is met with stories
and tales of phenomenal writing. As he sets the book down on the wooden table,
he begins to speak with a tone of authority and purpose, but it soon begins to
crack as his excitement eats away at his confidence. “H-Ehm, how much are you
selling this book for?” The vendor would shrug, lifting his hand towards Damien
as he awaits for an offer. “… Fifty minas?” Suddenly the small man would look
appalled, as though he was offended by the remark. “Alright, alright… Seventy?”
The small man scoffs, folding his arms and raising his chin briskly as he
pouts. “O-Ok, please, I was just trying to find a reasonable price. I meant no
offense! How about uh… Uhm…” Damien dips his hands into his pockets,
withdrawing a small cloth pouch jingling with coins. He dumps them onto the
table, counting them quietly to himself. “I have two hundred and seventy four
minas, just take it all, really, I don’t mind” The small man gives him one last
look, his eyes practically piercing through his soul. Nodding slowly, the
vendor shovels the assortment of coins into his sleeve, and with a simple flick
of the wrist he shows that now is the best time for Damien to depart. Awkwardly
he picks up the book, first giving a quick nod that suddenly turned itself into
a bow, then an attempt at a hand-shake. When all else failed, he ducked out of
the situation, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment. With his eyes set forward,
he didn’t notice the vendor’s wide grin that spread across his face, quickly
diminished as the man regained his posture.

[Lita 677]

Welcome to Anthos! Please wait to be implemented, as this can take some time. I would make note of the mentor system, but I believe you're already familiar with it. As a note, I would like you to make sure you know powergaming and metagaming is very bad, and should not happen. Your app had its shortcomings, but your bio made up for them.

Edited May 30, 2013 by {Mentor} Escharian
Accepted

[Lita 677]

Moved to Accepted Forum

[Ever 2648]

Player Whitelisted