marimbamonk

Moved to Denied Forum

Your application to LoTC was... You got some things write, but here are some things you need to fix: • I don't understand your definition of role-play. • You need to give us an actual definition (in your own words) or metagaming and powergaming. • In Asulon, there is no such place called Arkai Highlands, or Drakavia. You cannot invent places. • You cannot come to Al'Khazar. It was destroyed, along with Aegis, two days ago. We are in Asulon now, a new continent which we are claiming and building. • Your skin doesn't match your biography. I've never seen a vivid fisherman dressed in assassins clothes. Or a shop keeper, as you wish to become. • I don't understand your answer to the shopkeeper scenario question. Please fix the things mentioned above and you'll have a much better chance at getting accepted! Please reapply after 48 hours. PM me if you have any questions. Also, please look at this page. --> Click Me <--

Moved to Denied Forum

Your application to LoTC was... You got some things right, but here's what you got wrong: • Your definition of metagaming is completely wrong, and your definition of powergaming needs more detail. • You cannot invent places in Asulon. There is no Arkal Highlands, nor is there a Drakavia, to my knowledge. • You just decided to leave your town in the middle of the night? Was it when you were older? Did your parents approve of it? Please elaborate on your childhood. • Why do you want to become a Land Lord? • Your entire biography could just use a general clean up overall. Grammar, more back-round for your character, and longer. Please fix the problems mentioned above and you'll have a much better chance at getting accepted! Please submit a new application after 48 hours. PM me if you have any questions. Also, please take a look at this page. ---> Click Me <---

I sign this charter.

Brunhyldir signs his name on the note and adds on to it: I have always needed a place to stay, and I loved studying literature and writing. I would be pleasured to be a resident of this village.

No. Then we'd have to carry around gold ingots...

Cards, Xinos, Florins, Coins, Gold, Aegins, Aurums are my vote

Gold coins/coins.... Or Florins. Or Aurums.

Here is chapter one of my first book about Aegis, I hope you enjoy it. Please, oh please, give feedback below! By the way, this is the backround story of my character, Brunhyldir. The Tale of Brunhyldir Chapter One From a land of turmoil, of harsh desert winds, of great famine and disaster, there was suddenly a large flash of hope. A hero was born on this fateful day. One who would change the lands of Aegis forever. This hero is Brunhyldir Sarafand. Aegis is a complex land, full of life, full of death. Weird creatures and structures inhabit the lands of Aegis; such lands would prove to be deathly to most, especially the blazing desert of the Orcs. But even within torture there is peace. As a young boy, Brunhyldir loved to watch the stars in the night sky. They fascinated him; distant planets far away, ground that is different then the warm sand beneath his green feet. He would dream of these stars in his bed. He believed that when he became old enough, he would be able to touch these planets and bring their stories to his people. But for now, he had to tend to crops and keep his hut clean. The Upolu tribe was a small, barren dot on the yellow desert sand. Containing a few huts, small amounts of deep underground dirt, and low food and water rations, life in the tribe was hard. This was not something Brunhyldir wasn't used to, though. As the crisp wind blew sand into his face, Brunhyldir ran from his sandstone hut, across the camp, and to the tribe farm. Various Orcs drew into their own businesses, fanning dirt and sand off of patchwork clothes, drawing water from cacti, and then diverging back into their personal homes. Brunhyldir gathered as many cacti as he could, as carefully as he could, being sure not to prick himself with those pesky needles. Running back with the cacti in one arm and his face covered from desert winds with the other, he reached his family’s hut – the largest one in the camp, a gift from the Chieftain for his father– and ran inside. His mother chopped cacti into pieces on the table while his brother, Ogar, sliced a freshly caught scorpion next to her. “Here is cactus mom wanted,” Brunhyldir uttered as he plopped down his gatherings onto the drab table. His mother thanked him with a grunt as Brunhyldir walked into his room. His room was quite simple, containing just a ragged sandstone platform to sleep on, and an ancient quilt passed down from the Mokta family made of scorpion leather. Other then a place to sleep, rooms inside these orcish huts were very empty. Brunhyldir quickly wiped the sand off of his clothes with his quilt, and walked back into the main part of the family hut. “Where be dad?” Brunhyldir asked. “Huntin’,” replied his mother, Verga. “The scorpions and spiders been coming out a lot more lately, and cactus growin’ too." “Which means more supply for us,” added Ogar. Brunhyldir smiled, baring yellow and green teeth, dyed by the cacti and scorpion meat he’s been eating. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time in decades (he had heard) that the tribe had been getting an over-supply of rations and cactus. It was definitely a time of prospering. But one particular tribe member could feel something disastrous coming. As night fell upon the desert, most tribe members diverged back into their huts and slept. But several of the tribe members were in the biggest hut, which was covered in scorpion hides, spider parts, and cacti as tribal charms. The inside contained a massive fire pit in the center, with several sandstone chairs surrounding it in a square. In these chairs sat a dozen orcs, all with different expressions on their green-flushed faces. Sitting in a larger chair opposite the entrance sat a larger Orc, bearing strong leather armor, the headdress of a giant spider’s head, and an overly pessimistic face. “Why have you called this meeting, Von’gash?” asked the larger orc. An elderly green-skin, with gray braided hair and wrinkles upon wrinkles replied, “Ok’Tok, the tribe is in grave danger. Something about da desert wind, the way cacti and animals have been coming out a lot more recently… Der’ be something bad with the mojo.” As Von’gash spoke these dangerous words, many of the orcs around the pit whispered to one another, some speaking of lies, others of leaving the camp. Tok stared down for a few moments, and then pounded his hairy green fist upon the arm of his chair. “Silence!” he shouted, “or I shall make you quiet!” The other orcs stopped their gossip and looked fearfully at the tribe leader. “Von’gash, what kind of disaster you talking about? Da plague? Death of crops? Attack by skeletons?” Tok laughed, filling the entire hut with an uneasy tamber and startling some of the tribe associates surrounding the fire pit. He wasn’t taking the ancient shamans blabbering seriously. “I know you be doubtin’ me, but you trust me as your shaman so far. You can’t be losing your foothold now,” the shaman said as he fingered with a scorpion tail charm in his hands. “Something just be coming. It be plague, it be death, it be da livin’ dead. It be everything. If you not be ready by one-week time, I be going myself. This ain’t somethin’ to be tackling, Ok’tok.” Tok held his disposition with the subject. “We shall see if ‘it’ is something to tackle when – if – it gets here. I’m not preparing a defense unless I know that the threat is comin’,” he cried. Tok slammed his giant fist upon the chair arm once more, and the other orcs in the meeting hastily left the hut. Von’gash stayed in his seat, watching the other members leave as Tok stared at him. “I have nothing else to talk to you about. Leave me to sleep,” Tok called to Von’gash, waving his hand away as if telling him to leave. “This tribe,” Von’gash exclaimed, “dese people. They will perish, because of you. If you call yourself leader, then I would get your thick skull checked, Tok.” Von’gash slowly gathered his body up and stumbled outside. The various orcs now outside were family fathers; Brunhyldir’s father, Sna’rosha, included. “I don’t believe a word that dumb shaman be sayin’,” said an older orc. “He’s been crazier than ever these past years. No need to take him serious now.” “To the contrary,” snapped Sna’rosha. “For all we know, dis’ plague could be heading our direction any moment. We do not know if dis’ plague could be – or could not be – coming. I don’t see any need to not be gettin’ prepared for anything.” As Von’gash traipsed his way outside to the crowd of grumbling ogres, another Orc spoke up. “Brothers, we don’t even know what dis’ plague is! For all we know, it be a attack of chickens,” the orc cried, full of awkward humor, “and der be much benefit for da tribe there!” Von’gash held a serious face upon his skull; the frown that had formed upon it could have pulled the mood of even the drunkest dwarf down to the Nether. The other orcs that were scattered, expressing their verbal feelings, suddenly stood silent, staring at the old shaman. The shaman let in a deep breath and lectured, “You not be questionin’ me when the time comes. Dis’ tribe have somethin’ coming to it, and I know for sure dat it won’t be the same when dis’… ting, passes.” He made his way slowly through the startled orcs, through to his hut on the other side of the camp, and fumbled around inside, presumably gathering his things. Silence continued to echo through the nearby desert sands. Some dared to still whisper about that poor shaman being too old to know anything nowadays on their way back to their huts, but Sna’rosha stayed firm with his side of the argument. If his family was in danger, he had to make sure that they weren’t. ______________________________________________________ Brunhyldir woke up like he did most days: with an ache in his spine, a pain in the back of his head, and shoulders that felt like they were going to pop out; the result of crude bedding. Walking across the dusty sandstone halls of his hut, he couldn’t help but to notice a force, an aura that was different about the camp. Something had happened. Brunhyldir increased his pace and passed his mother, who was tanning a scorpion hide outside the family hut. “Where be fada?” He asked, gazing at his large mother. She glanced at him, then lifted her head and continued tanning, “I don’ know. Ok’Tok sent a huntin’ party out to investigate. Your brother and fada went with him.” “Investmigate what?” His mother seemed more distant then ever. “I don’ know.” Brunhyldir couldn’t help but to think about what was wrong. His father and brother, outside of the camp, “investigating.” Just the thought of his older brother and not him out there made Brunhyldir jealous. “I am old enough!” he thought, “Father doesn’t have to worry about me, why aren’t I out there right now, protecting the tribe…” He shook his head and walked outside. The camp seemed barren compared to the normal life that was abundant inside. Only the women and small children were left. Brunhyldir used this time to investigate places he normally would have been kicked out of. He pondered into the main hut, the one where tribe meetings were held, and the Chieftain slept. He had never been in such an extravagant hut! Aside from the carefully crafted chairs that encircled the fire pit, there were also dozens of weapons and charms hanging on the walls. One made from the stalk of a scorpion stinger, another from the pincers of a spider, and a charm with the skull of a creeper as a centerpiece. He was just about to investigate the main bedroom when he heard rustling and stomping outside. “We’re back,” Tok called to the tribe, all of the fathers and brothers behind him. Brunhyldir exited the main hut, and noticed his father and brother among the bunch. All of the smaller children and women walked quickly outside to hear what had happened. “Our shaman, Von’Gash, already left. But he be right. He predicted some sorta plague be comin’ to our tribe,” Tok said, trying not to look weak. “We see smoke come from Swamps that way,” pointed Sna’Rosha, “and we think it might be a human camp.” Everyone stood silent. Humans? Could they attack our camp? Would they enslave us? Only time told. After the other tribe mates came back, everyone packed their things and prepared their weapons just in case the humans did come. Ok’Tok, of course, was too stubborn to let the tribe leave, so he only put up guards every night just in case the humans did come. They had to wait two anxious nights before they did. At the peak of the night, human bandits suddenly crawled from the swamps, observing the couple orcs that had been put on guard duty. One of them chuckled softly, and whispered to another bandit, “Looks like they knew we were here. But they still haven’t seen us.” The Bandit Chief slowly ran up behind a hut and ducked, checked his corner, and signaled for the others to follow. A dozen more humans creeped to his position. The Chief whispered, “There are two orcs on duty now; one over there; and one over there,” he pointed to the targets that were pacing in front of the Shamans old house and the Chieftains Hut. The Chief whispered some more, and the plan was engraved. Two bandits slowly moved behind an orc. One suddenly grabbed his mouth while the other slit his throat. They threw the dying green-skin aside as two other bandits across the camp did the same. Sna’Rosha was on guard duty that night. Silently, all of the bandits skulked into different huts to kill their occupants. No one heard the silent screams of the few that were killed. That was until they reached the Mokta hut. Ogar had been awake the entire night and had heard what had happened. As bandits entered his hut, he screamed for his life, as loud as he could. Everyone who was still alive was awakened. Ogar was sliced to death as Brunhyldir ran upstairs and tried to escape. Fire and screams echoed across the sand as the bandits took anyone else captive and set fire to the huts. It all happened so fast… Verga, Brunhyldir, and five others were grabbed by their ears into the deathly swamp and dragged away as their homes – and hopes – burned away to glass.

Actually, I do have one question. Why are we not allowed to play on multiple accounts at once?

Moved to Accepted Forum

Your application to LoTC was... ACCEPTED! I would have denied you because of some faults in your biography, but your cunning answer to the bandit scenario made me laugh and say, "Smart idea..." Keep in mind, however, that Aegis is a planet. It is not an island. Otherwise, welcome to Aegis!

Moved to Accepted Forum

Your application to LoTC was... ACCEPTED! Please wait for a GM to implement you. Also, understand that if the bandit scenario were to happen in game, your answer could be powergaming. Just think about it. Otherwise, welcome to Aegis!

Moved to Accepted Forum

Your application to LoTC was... ACCEPTED! Please wait for a Gm to implement you. Welcome to Aegis!

I apologize, but you are not using the correct format. Please go to where you submitted your application and instead look for "The Official LoTC Application Format". Please use that when you reapply. Reapply using the correct format after 48 hours. PM me if you have any questions!

Moved to Accepted Forum

Your application to LoTC was... ACCEPTED! Please wait for a Gm to implement you! Welcome to Aegis!