Sujamma Addict

Age: 38

Race: Farfolk (Qalasheen)

Gender: Male

Features (eye/hair/skin colour, clothing etc.)

A natural tan, well-toned, and thin man standing at about 5’11 and weighing somewhere around 150 lb. Often, when speaking, his voice sounds honeyed and silvery albeit he has a small Waldenian accent despite his origins.  His gait is relaxed and he often carries himself in a mellow manner. His hair is left relatively groomed — thick strands of black draping down loosely.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-EM1p7CcqxXqPH5Wft94HVo4_YZcbIHwGJDnrkw_kqo/edit?usp=sharing

Reference picture(s) (optional):

Any extra info: If I could request two skins then I’d appreciate it. The first can be any casual wear that seems fit for most climates while the other could be more of a “merc-like” skin or perhaps just something comfortable but can be used in combat (if that makes any sense).

Reserving detailed portrait! Will pm info

(WIP)

Arlen Kharadeen

(AR-luhn Kaha-rah-deen)

"Though we may bend, we do not break."

    - Faiz Kharadeen

Appearance

A natural tan, well-toned, and thin man standing at about 5’11 and weighing somewhere around 150 lb. Often, when speaking, his voice sounds honeyed and silvery albeit he has a small Waldenian accent despite his origins.  His gait is relaxed and he often carries himself in a mellow manner. His hair is left relatively groomed — thick strands of black draping down loosely.

A Family crest adorned with the an angled crescent moon and star.

Name Origin

The name Arlen derives from the Qalasheen farfolk. Tribes people would form an arlen or “Pledge.”

Titles

At the age of 34, Arlen was proclaimed as “Sultan” or sovereign over the Caliphate - most often ruling over the Realm of Khalestine whilst his father,Faiz Kharadeen, bears the title of “Caliph” and has absolute rule over the Realm, able to overrule any decisions made by the Sultan.

    Personal Characteristics   *

Born on the 2nd of Snow’s Maiden, 1469 - Arlen was born in an infirmary within the frozen walls of Aesterwald’s keep in The Fringe. The infant was a frail thing, weighing a measly 4.5 lb.

ChildHood

Like most toddlers (those with parents), the mother would be the caretaker for her young and nurse them with loving care.

Arlen’s father was currently a member of the Sentinels of Equilibrium near the Princedom of Fenn and had one master bedroom that included a small crib for their firstborn. Arlen’s early life consisted of being mentored by his mother as his father was often away slaying monsters. He also had a Shepherd pup named “Fellah.”

When the war between Raev and loyalists to the Chivay dynasty had begun, skirmishes took place nearby Fenn and the young boy would often travel North with his father to Aesterwald where the temperatures dropped below freezing. Here is where he grew up learning about Lucienism, a faith compiled of  many chauvinists who devoted their lives to the Creator.

Mental Characteristics

Arlen keeps himself in a sort of genial stupor, where he feels as if his decisions are bettering the lives of others akin to his own. He lives a life devoted to his family or so... that’s what he tells himself . During the transitioning period between Athera and Vailor (and even several years after that), Arlen dropped off the face of the planet without explanation while in a relationship with Sahárfajhari Ajaháli and returned fifteen years later as a vagrant in rags — left by Sahár who then began seeing his younger brother, Malik.

Often categorized as weak and lacking of a firm hand when he was younger, Arlen returned changed, hardened by the changes throughout the years. Now perceived as arbitrarily brutish, the Qali’ has seemingly become confused with his own worldview. Arlen’s obsession for his family’s reunion clouded his vision and drastic measures were taken during a search for his sister, Ceto Kharadeen.

Philosophical Characteristics

Chaotic Good

“I do the things I do only for the reunification of my blood.”

With ambiguous innocence, this character sees himself as some sort of “saviour” to his kin. Perverted by insecurities, the self-deluded Qali’ believes wholeheartedly that the unity of a family is the terminal key to unlocking joy.

But to what extents has this Sultan gone to achieve this goal?

Arlen is an optimist and sees that every situation can be bended towards his favor by the use of any means necessary. He’s created this slanted reality for himself that leaves him completely blind — unable to recognize the disruption he has brought to those he thought he cared for.

Apparel

Accessories

When Arlen was only a child, his father had gifted him with a brown scarf that he keeps on always even underneath his armour. It’s his “good luck” charm that he feels it keeps him safe. Upon his ring finger rests a smooth ashen-gray wedding band.

Dress Style/Wardrobe

Arlen’s wardrobe consists of a large variety of clothing from all different cultures although he would often be seen wearing traditional Qalasheen robes.

Equipment

Spoiler

 

Arlen rarely carries any form of currency on him simply due to being absent-minded. Attatched to his belt is a scabbard which hides curved saber, commonly known as a scimitar. These weapons are commonly found and crafted within Khalestine.

Relationships

Relatives

Father: Faiz Kharadeen (ymbninjakiller, Unknown)

Mother: Arabella Kharadeen (Immahorseridda, Unknown)

Sister: Ceto Kharadeen (PessPess, Vital)

Sister-in-law:  Saharfajhari Kharadeen (Malocchio, Vital)

Brother: Malik Kharadeen (tuslwmonster, Deceased)

Brother: Alai Kharadeen (lucdean, Vital)

__

Wife: Irsia Kharadeen (Imibee, Vital)

Eldest Son: Fakhri Kharadeen (Pandann, Vital)

Eldest Daughter: Kaia Kharadeen (Contact if Interested, Vital)

Daughter: Amina Kharadeen (LadyRebecca, Vital)

Daughter: Nahla Kharadeen (Cytharia, Vital)

Son: Amal Kharadeen (tuslwmonster, Vital)

Son: Yusef Kharadeen (Publius, Vital)

Character Art

“Happy Trail” by Cave_Creature

“Portrait of Irsia and Arlen Kharadeen” by Shiloh Ellis

Portrait by Numirya

Looking out unto the main square of Al-Wakhrah sits a newly erected statue.

Uncle Siris

1434-1538

He didn't get to see Ceto...

She's currently working on the Caliphate and has been doing some great work! +1

As mi papà once told me, “bambino, one day I gonna show you how to play guitar and then you gonna get women like I got your mamma.”

“My papà knows how to play guitar better than anyone…”

Luchino’s papà, however, never got to teach his young boy for he was taken by the blight — driven mad, he turned on his Illatian ways of love and romance, and was cast out to live amongst the others. Mamma kept the guitar and hid it from little Luchino. She didn’t want to put her bambino through any more trauma.

“Mamma sent me to live with nonna where she taught me to cook my first dish,

lasagna.

She had special sauce and didn’t tell me recipe until I left her. Before I went, she gave me backpack and said, ‘Luchino, bring jacket with you. It’s cold!’ So I did as nonna told me and left. Banditos took it later when I went to the sand land.

“Bambino, there are only two things to love in life: food and beautiful women, and I am master of both.”

Luchino DeLuca hummed an Illatian tune while he checked on his tortellinis in the brick oven. The sixteen year old boy had just begun supper preparations for the ill-mannered Vanders of HallowVale Contracting.

“All they do is drink beer and eat bread! Whtat’sa mattah with them, eh?!”

He scrunched his nose and shook his fist — he would have a tough time teaching the neanderthals to evolve.

The boy walked back to the counter where two baguettes, each a foot long, sat on a cutting board with a knife wedged into it. Next to the board rested a journal where he had been hard at work, writing his document/menu, titled Domestic Services Handbook ( https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gMy_0K6-Ta4c1CBzHm__lHPZX_Nr_OTiBzUH1gb3KXs/edit?usp=sharing ).

“Illatia, there’s a package for you.”

Luchino turned to the towering giant with blonde hair and blue eyes that now stood in front of his counter with a large box in one hand, “Grazie, sig. Blondey!” He exclaimed as he held out his manos out wide. The Vander man simply dropped the box onto the counter without any regards to what was inside and marched off. Luchino examined closer and was surprised when he saw a signature.

“Nonna.”

Luchino peered out into the dining hall, making sure no one was around, and grabbed the box which wasn’t too heavy. He brought it back with him into the pantry over to his makeshift bed of hay, covered by an itchy wool blanket.

“Mi nonna… She is supposed to be in the seven skies. How can this be?!”

He scratched his head before slowly opening the box.

“Strum bambino. Strum and subdue your love with this guitar.”

“I am coming, Aisha.”

 

((Ready to waste my life’s earnings for the crown))

MC Name: AlteredGENx

Character's Name: Arlen Kharadeen (Isria Kharadeen) & Luchino DeLuca

Do you want it colored? This costs extra: Yes for both

Reference pictures and description of appearance; Facial features, hairstyle, other details such as pose and expression etc: I'll Pm ya.

Clear picture of the front and back of your skin, or at the very least the skin file: I'll pm ya that to

Proof of payment, to the persona Ceriwyn de Bar(MC Name is Starryy): I’ll add this when the server is back up

 

Cheeky warcraft at the end. Loved the video, excellent work from the media team. We need more of these! One for each race would be great honestly.

The only downsides were some of the pauses were a little too long or cumbersome, but that was only really noticable when you were calling off the clans. Showing a banner for each clan would've been cool since new players wouldn't likely recognize the locations.

Agreed. The narration had to be edited to pause due to the speed of the speaker. It was a bit difficult to work with, but I understand completely with what you're talking about. 

In regards to the banners, I could and should have went to each clan and ask for them – would've been nice to add it now that I think about it.

 

I like the video; it was quite interesting and fun to watch.  But, of course, not perfect.   This s just me pitching my constructive criticism, I'm no film major or anything of the sort.  I feel the intro-title could have looked a little cleaner?   I like the whole panning idea, but I'm not sure about it.  It seemed nice, but at the same time it didn't feel like it fit, to me.   Maybe it was the color or the text?    A nice green might have been fitting.

I also felt that when the Orcish tribes were being called out and the video was panning over the lands, some text to show the names would have been helpful.   That way if anybody uses the video as a guide, they can spell/type out the name.  And since the voice didn't merge well with the changes, it kind of confused me at two different points.

 

All in all though, really good! [:

Much appreciated, Selu! There was definitely more that could have been done and I agree with all of the points made. I'll make sure to use this to improve on future uploads :)

So with the help of BGBuster (voice narrator) and a lot of Orc players, I finished my first official project for the MT team!

Please add any feedback including any constructive criticism. It'll help me work on improving future projects :)

Awesome work man! Definitely better than anything I can do ✔

                                                                                                                     Tunnel Snakes Rule!                                                                                                                     -Butch DeLoria

Name (Leave IG name as well): Luchino DeLuca

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Skill

:

Naieve Appeasers

Amateurish Plotter

Do you meet the criteria to join Hallowvale Contracting?: Sì!

Leave an address for a return letter of accepted: Sewers of Al-Wakhrah

“Ma’a salama.”

I nearly choked on those words. I’ve used them so often, but this time it felt different. I never had to say farewell to my family, but within these past months it’s become a common saying.

Where are they now God?

Looking to my wife is when it hits me and I hate myself for having to force myself to smile,  knowing with all my sincerity that she has had it worst than me. I’d never show her the depths of my ill mind, it would only drive her away and then who else would I be an example of the Creator to? The flatterers who keep my cheeks numb? Or perhaps the chair sitting in the gatehouse that does so well in keeping wrongdoers out of the city.There needs to be change, but what is that change?

Growing up brought its slew of drama though; I suppose it does with every child. How oblivious we are to the responsibilities and burdens we’re expected to bear when we come of age, and what awful burdens they are.

I’m only an archetype though.

Or so that’s where this ill mind has brought me to in this stage of my life.

-+-

“Sultan. with me.”

Mental toughness.

“I’ve decided to stay at Ard Ghorrock with.. my brothers there and I’d ask you to tell mother and father, though I don’t expect them to care much.”

How do you respond to that?

“I… Understand brother… They probably won’t.”

Molded by the chaos.

-+-

I was dutiful, always agreeing with what my peers told me and learning from their mistakes. I would be brazen at some points to, but I knew my place and dared not cross the boundaries. I had a passion for protecting the weak, but that flame has long  burned out when I was trudging my boots through a sink pit and crying out loud to my comrades who were perishing under a volley of arrows from above. We got the bridges set alright, but when it came time to cross I knew I wouldn’t return, and I was right. My wife and brother serve as an escape or euphoric high from my arbitrary thoughts.

-+-

“He plans to raise me, training me to fight properly.”

But what of his flaws? His lack of honour?

“He’s a good and honourable man. I can’t imagine getting any better guidance.”

I jumped from my sleep, luckily not waking Isria. There I rose to my feet and ventured through the desolate hallways to the terrace and looked over the barely shimmering streets.

-+-

“I will make you proud brother. Prouder than I ever could here. I’ll visit you, though I make no promises about the others.”

He pushed past his cloak and unsheathed a dull blade as I did the same.An exchange of the extensions of our arms so that one day, when we are together again, we may return them for they were both molded around the wielder not the other way around.

-+-

I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead and look down upon the rubble of my gates and become philosophical about my place here in this nearly uninhabited palace.

“I can no longer perform my duties as a brother. grandmaster Baudric.”

“Zhat icht understandable.”

-+-

Be headstrong people of Khalestine. Do not be intimidated by the evil of the world, do all things in the name of God, and refrain from vanity for it is better to be content with the gifts God has given you rather than demand more.

-+-

We’re the underdogs now.

I'm leaving brother.

The Sultan clenches his teeth as he watches three familiar figures leave him.

"It was up to the Creator to decide." He repeats to himself.

This recommendation comes from two years of knowing Leo:

He's mature and I am fully aware that this statement is used in the majority of applications, but this is entirely derived from our ooc encounters. Of course, we like to have fun every now and then but when it came to work, whether it be on the internet or irl, Leo has shown to put all things aside for the sake of completing a task. I've read over his topics throughout his years on the server and have yet to read one adorned with a negative portrayal of an individual. I see AT and FM as sometimes tough roles and I can applaud his determination and dedication for the server.

On top of the walls of the city of Al-Wakhrah were three individuals. They all remained silent as they worked diligently on what would be the epitome of human innovation. The gifted middle-aged Vander scientist by the name of Adawulf de Denesle wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he picked up his quill and began to write in his journal:

19th of The Grand Harvest, 1526

Yet again, through years of experimentation and studies in eugenics, nātīvus trials have given us initiative in the realm auf x (commonly denoted by ζ ). This time, however, the x-ists (which have been documented here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/134557-coming-of-the-third-breed/ ) reveal to us their dark gatherings, practices and sesquipedalia, bringing saucers which, through the void’s telekenesis, hover above the surface. Sir Adawulf, through studies of “gooing,” has been perspicacious in his research of the X-dimension.

_______________________________________________

Are you tired of riding pinky-steeds with saddles that grind against your groin with utmost haste? Are you tired of walking in general? Well, there’s a simple solution dear friend! A beacon of hope in the dark abyss that is life- the Model L super cart! This bad-boy is equipped with the finest Khalestinian leather seats and the finest Vander engineering. There is no pollution and infact- it makes no sound! Do what you want with this precarious machine! Eat it, drive it, roll in it, the only one who cares is the Creator, and he already has a plan for you and chances are you’re going to rot in the pits of the nether!

Eblon comes to justify our sins with the philosophy of One Mind and One Body!
ONE MIND ONE BODY!

Disclaimer: Should you be impaled with a sarchospier OH Co. is not responsible.

The Model L is now available for a proficuous sum of 5,000 minas!

The Creator grants Arlen the gift of a flying poster in which he reads and grins widely, "Subhanallah! I will be there, plague or not!"

+1 I hold a lot of ooc respect for this old friend. His intuitive roleplay and descriptive literature are, in my opinion, superb. : )

Through clenched teeth and a tightly closed fist, Arlen Kharadeen, in his OSL uniform, crosses the bridge to Al-Wakhrah. He snorts out the stench of the dead and ash in front of his city and heads to the palace, preparing to summon the High Council.

"Creator guide me in the obstacles I face."

 

•  Using armor stand commands, which are very complicated. You can create some really cool things within minecraft, for instance a display case http://imgur.com/rEJNVNs or you can create many other cool things http://imgur.com/UipXWmR

What the heck. Yes please.

+1

Every now and then

I get a little bit lonely

"Turn Around" says MajesticOwyn

+1

A few feet away from the Caliph stood his eldest son, Arlen Kharadeen wearing a traditional Qalisheen robe, his eyes fixed on the large congregation below. 

While listening to his aging father's speech, he noticed the white and red adorned on the tabards of the Order of St. Lucien. 

"Apple pie."  he smirks.

https://img.4plebs.org/boards/f/image/1410/85/1410852747419.swf

 

This was my entry for the media team, but I felt like it'd be a nice commendation to the little guys.

Some very minor gore is described in this

A late post, but while sitting in a bus for four hours, I decided to finally write up something about the Battle of The Forest. The inspiration essentially derives from everyone who made post related to the Civil War. This short story can be ambiguous for some despite my efforts, but aw, well, it can work either way.

Also any constructive criticism would be helpful as I am rather new to story telling.

A leaf strewn fall had begun to settle and the once vibrant green covering that clothed the trees and bushes had long been gone, flying off and spreading the russet colored leaves over a dirt blood covered road. Four horses trotted across the path, that had been, littered with corpses beyond count. The light taps of their hooves and the wind made it all the more eerie. The two stallions that led the pack were a dark shade of brown with various splotches of black, big and small, covering their toned figures. Two empty saddles rested on top of each one, both appearing to have been torn at and bitten. The third beast was lean and ugly, grey, and one long infected scar drew its way across its side; a dirty and rugged saddle dragged across the ground, still attached on the opposite side.

The fourth and last horse was the ugliest of the four. Multiple gashes and cuts covered its white body as if they were splotches from the first two. It trotted behind the other three awkwardly and was missing an eye. On its right side rested yet another worn saddle, but stretched wider than the others. On top of the saddle lied a rider. His once silk brown hair was now highlighted with crimson stains and his face was unrecognizable. His ruined uniform, however, identified him as a crow; a “traitor.”

As the horses continued on their futile pilgrimage, the abnormal calm was interrupted by a slice of the wind and a clang of chains being ripped apart. The horses took notice to this and in panic, doubled their efforts and turned a trot into a gallop. As they took off into the distance a single arrow now protruded from the back of the rider.

“Sixteen. The age you pledged to be like me.”  A calm, dead voice came from afar, “You get that down?”

No response.

“Good, there’s some more over there.”

He lowered his short bow and grabbed onto the reigns of a brown stallion, tugging on it lightly as he walked on, “Once we’re done here we can head on back to the farm and see if your mother has supper readeh.” His crooked face contorted into a somewhat kind of twisted smile; dried liquid covered his dirty and ruddy cheeks. The walk didn’t last more than a few minutes and soon he stood over another. A set of hazel eyes met his, but he felt no emotion.

The man released the stallion and reached for one of the three arrows left in his quiver. The wind began to die down while he pulled back on the bowstring with his lacerated hands. There was no hesitation when he released his already loose grip, sending the arrow three feet down into the head of another fallen crow, “Seventeen. The age you joined the army.” Pride was laced in his voice. A hard and loud thump of chains and leather sounded behind him followed by a light snort from his horse. The man closed his eyes half-way, clenched his red-tinted teeth and stood in silence for several minutes without ever taking his depressing grimace from the crow’s temple, “…Your mother,” he uttered shakily, his lips dry, “She’ll have warmed milk, sweetened with honeh when we arrive.” He struggled to blink back tears and lowered to his knees.

After a time he slowly rose from his crouched position to his full height, he limped over to the lifeless form behind him. The man in his forties wiped at his face with his trembling calloused hands, swallowed dryly, and bent down to get the heart aching task out of the way again.  Half-way through it, however, his eyes widened in disbelief and realization; he quickly joined the choir of wailing that he had now just noticed. His eyebrows lifted while he frantically tried to reattach a limb. Suddenly an immense silence filled him and he found himself calmly taking the reigns of his steed and leading it on towards another crow, uttering with a calm, dead voice.

“One.. That year I came home to a son.”

Arlen finishes helping the last of the four men who had fallen into pits get out and thinks to himself,

"I wonder if Nafis made a break for it?"