Out-Of-Character:
Minecraft Account Name:nicktexas
Did you attend minecon and sign up at the LOTC booth?:No, I wish that I could have.
How old are you?:I turned 18 this last September.
Time-Zone/Country of Residence:I live in Central Texas (in the US).
Do you have a good grip on the English language/good grammar?: Yes I do. I am not necessarily the best writer in the world, but I try my best to use correct grammar and punctuation as well as make sure what I am saying makes sense.
Small 2-3 Sentence Description of yourself: I enjoy construction and exploration games, so Minecraft is the perfect mix for me. I can be slightly OCD, so most of my buildings are symmetrical and organized. I try to stay polite and unoffensive when talking to anyone, and I normally only say things when I have to.
How much time could you be on the server weekly?: The maximum time would probably be about 4/5 hours daily (28/35 weekly) with a more realistic estimate being around 15 hours a week.
What do you know about Roleplaying? Give a definition of what it means to you.:
Role playing is essentially becoming a character you have created. You act out that character's thoughts, emotions, and actions as if this character was a living breathing person. For instance, if I wanted to play a nature loving, slightly lazy elf, I would name him something like Elezor, he would spend most of his time outside and rarely go into caves because he loves sunlight. He would love to hunt and fish, but hate to mine, because that is hard work and he would rather be almost anything else. Maybe I would make him funloving and playful, or he could have had his entire family murdered by a band of rogue Orcs, so he spends most of his time practicing combat and planning his vengeance.
In your own Words, describe what Metagaming and Powergaming are.
Metagaming: Tactics or strategies that go outside the role playing knowledge of your character or the knowledge you are given in-game to affect the outcome of the game. An example of this would be using statistics on ore placement from the minecraft wiki to more effectively mine ore.
Powergaming: Playing the game with the goal of maximizing skills or progress instead of playing a role. Grinding a characters sword skill by killing zombies from a spawn is an example of this.
What do you expect this server will be like?: I expect this server to be filled with respectful players who focus on playing a character. NOT a server with a lot of griefing or powerleveling.
What other server(s) have you played on and why did you leave them?: I have not played a whole lot of survival servers. I have played regularly on a couple of minecraft creative servers, however, but in the end left them due to either #1 power hungry admins,"I am the admin on this server, if you want to build here you better do exactly what I say. Dance like a monkey, *****!" #2 or excessive griefing.
Have you read, understood, and agreed to the rules?: Yes I have.
How did you hear about us?: I actually was googling a question I had on something Minecraft related, saw your forum, read up on you server, and decided that it looked awesome.
Have you voted for the Lord of the Craft on Minestatus? Which vote number were you?
Yes, I just voted. My vote should be 2483.
What is your The Lord Of Craft forum account name?:
nicktexas.
In-Character:
Character Name:
Martoth Leftwin
What is your Race?:
Dwarven
Biography(This should include the history of your character and his life as well as age, appearance and personality, etc.):
Martoth Leftwin (pronounced MaR-toth Left-win)
“Sarthane, here you are finally, why most you go on so many frivilous trips into the wretched dark city! Sit down and eat, for I must soon return to the Elven embassy, I have more bussiness with their, I rarely see you as it is with all of the extra time I must spend negotiation on this trade agreement with the dwarves.” “I apologize Pater, but you know I miss our beautiful forests and I grow restless.“ “What happened to your Amulet the one I gave you to celebrate your victory at the marksmans tournament, were you robbed by some of these vile dwarves? I do not understand why you must go on these foolish treks through this foul city!” Mater, do not fear, I was not robbed or accosted by anyone. These dwarves are not as foul as the rumors would have us believe. They may be greedy for wealth, but they still can be as honorable and as brave as any elf. Pater, Mater, I have a story to tell you of one such dwarf, and in so doing will also explain the loss of my amulet.
I met this dwarf today as I traveled through the poor quarter of Kal’Urguan as I have done the entire moon that we have been here. I almost passed him by, but something made me look his way. He was sitting buttressed against one of the gigantic pillars that holds the earth up off of the city.This dwarf from a distance appeared to be like any other beggar, but on closer examination revealed a haggard but noble face and a strong body now weakened with exhaustion, hunger, and as I would later learn, grief. Through the holes in his ragged hooded cloak I saw the dim gleam of what was once, exquisite steel armor, now battered and bent, almost completely destroyed by use. At his side was an empty scabbard, it too was exquisite, it was covered in carvings and designs. All of these things pointed to wealth, and the fact that a once rich and proud dwarf could be sitting in the dirt on the side of one of the busy cobblestone roads that weave through the city, maddened me with curiousity. I approached him, and I asked him his name point blank. He looked up at me with cold indifference in his eyes, not answering me. Now I was truly made curious, I wanted to learn the story of this dwarf. “What do you want with me elf?” he asked me in a harsh and bitter tone. “I am curious how a dwarf of wealth and status could be placed in such a place as you appear to be. Why do you sit in the dust?”. He stood up, I was suprised at his hieght, for a dwarf he was quite tall, standing at almost 2 bowlengths or around about 6 feet, as a human would say it. “I thought that Elves cared little for the affairs of men and dwarves, I have nothing to say to you or your kind.”, angered by his words I replied haughtly, “Ha, no need to be angry little dwarf, do not make me put you in your place, whelp.”but he replied to me camly, “I wager my scabbard, to that fancy trinket around your kneck, that this 'little dwarf' could humble your elvish pride in simple hand to hand combat.”, “Inside I laughed, because I stood almost a full forearms length, or two human feet above his head, and I have always been good enough with my fists. I accepted his challenge, but no sooner had the words left my mouth then a rapid blow from his right fist sent me stumbling. As I got up he evaded my right hook and jabbed me hard in the stomach with his left fist. Again I got up and throw my fist at him, this time my strike landed but he rolled with my strike and came around again with a heavy right hook that hit me right behind my left ear. Next thing I remember I am laying on my back and all I can hear is the ringing in my ears and see three dwarves standing above me, all of which eventually converge into one. “Have you had enough , proud elf, or must I beat you a second time?” I said I had, had enough, he helped me up and I asked him his name. “Martoth”, “and yours elf?”, “Sarthane. May I buy you a drink Martoth?”. He politely agreed and I bought him a drink and a meal at a local tavern. The mead warmed him, the food sated his hunger, and loosed his lips. At my request he began to relate to me the story of his life and why he was in his current state. He was Martoth son of Barathorn, from the clan of Left-win, he had been raised by wealthy parents in a rich home. Martoth's parents were relatively religious for dwarfs, and they raised him, training him in the lore of the beginning of the world and the God of the Seven Skies. They lived stoic lives relative to their wealth, fighting anything they could consider temptation sin or impurity, to better follow what they believed was the purpose they had been given by their god and to refuse the curse of Greed that Ibless had put upon their kind. Thir goal was to meet their purpose so they could one day meet their god. Martoth from a young age, new they stories of this world, of Malin the father of the elves, and Krug powerful warrior ancestor of the orcs, and of Horen and Orguan fathers of men and dwarves . He was taught about the mysterious Aengul and the fearful and mystical daemon, of the deception of Iblees and the fall of Urguan because of his Greed and envy. As a child he learned to love, trust, and fear the Great One, as his parents taught him, and to grow up with a moral character and a humble spirit, unlike many of the other wealthy dwarven families of the time. His father, Barathorn, ran a local steel mine in Martoth's hometown, a city he failed to name, and was renown for his honor and his kindness to his workers in the mine. Often Barathorn himself would mine beside his workers, or let them eat with his family at the huge stone table in their large mansion. Because of this, he was loved and respected by all his workers and they worked hard for him. Martoth's mother was also known for her goodness, she ran a local clothing shop, and was renowned for her quality work and for her kindness to the many local beggars and homeless, home she would often clothe with clothing made from extra materials from her shop. Because of their hard work and their inner goodness and honor, Martoth's parents were very sucessful in their businesses, Martoth learned by their example, and he learned to work hard and to treat others with respect, no matter their station in life. But the sucess of Martoths parents made them friends as well as enemies and they were despised by most of the wealthy merchants, who lost business to the Left-wins. They were hated for not acting as if they were above the poor folk, for freely giving to the poor and needy and befriending many commoners. This was the darkness that would eventually swallow the happiness that was Martoth's the darkness of greed and hatred. As Martoth grew into a young man, he was taught how to wield a axe as well as a pick, Barg, his fathers faithful orcish guard who helped protect the mine from the undead taught Martoth the way of the axe and the bow, how to draw the string up to the ear and not past it so as to increase accuracy and the bows durability. How to quickly bring an axe to bear and use it with the bodies full force on a target using both speed and accuracy as tools more than simple brute force. How when wearing heavy armor to relax and move with the armor so that one could move gracefully and efficiently fully clad even in heavy diamond. And how to fight with ones fist effectively and quickly, as I discovered on my own, earlier that day. He was taught by his mother and her old elvish miadservant Laisia how to read in dwarven as well as speak fluently in the language of the Elves. He grew strong and was matchless with a bow and axe when compared to his peers from the wealthy dwarven homes who were weak and fat because of their comfortable lives. At the age of 16 his father brought him down to the mine and showed him its workings, how to manage a team of miners and how to swing a pickaxe. Mortoth was taught the different ores and their uses, and he became knowledable in the ways of crafting. He was taught the art of smelting, and where to look for diamonds in the deep recesses of the earth. His mother taught him how to stitch together leather into the various clothing items. How to make a helmet that would snugly fit a head, while giving enough play in the leather to keep chafing at a minimum. He was taught how to use the iron ingots from his fathers mine and the cloth and leather strips from his mothers supplies to fashion a steel cuirass that fit the stout bodies of the dwarves, while still giving an astonishing freedom of movement. He became knowledgable in all of his parents business and at the age of 17 helped manage the mine with his father. He was charismatic and perhaps too wild for his parents likes, and the workers loved him. He would often delve deep into the recesses of the deepest parts of the mine, previously unexplored by the mines workers because of the dangerous undead that lived within, he often went with Barg and the other guards to clear out new portions of the mine, and this is where Martoths learned how to use his lessons with the axe to defeat the vile zombie, to use his lessons with the bow to dispatch the treacherous creeper and how to dodge the arrows of the skeleton even when wearing the heaviest of armor. He grew strong, and seemed to succeed at everything he put his hand to. Martoth's life seemed perfect, his father and mother loved him, the common people loved him, as well as many a young dwarven lass. He was a favorite at the tournaments and was rarely defeated. But as is true with many things, Martoth's life was soon to change, and much for the worse. During a battle with an important nobles son, Martoth fought too zealously in his attempts to impress a specific lass watching from the stands, a relatively beuataful dwarven girl named Moira, who was the daughter of the dwarven cities importer of human and elven goods. His waraxe came down too fast on the helm of his opponent and it crushed the man's skull. The crowd was horrified and he was suspended from the games for several months. But unbenknowest to him or his parents, many of the towns richer citizens met together and decided to use Martoth's mistake to destroy the competition that Martoth's parents business created. These wealthy citizens through bribery and lies brought a case before the Govenor of the town that stated that Martoth had purposely murdered his opponent. Through false witnesses and the Govenors own corruption, Martoth's was charged with murder and his families bussinesses were fined several thousand gold ingots each, much more than his father could afford. His parents wept as he was taken by the guards, before he was taken Barg the old warrior, slipped him his sword, “Fight well my brother. Use all that I have taught you and all that you have learned to hunt well. Live so that you can one day return and vindicate your name. “
Martoth was cast into the deepest recesses of the earth, still unexplored by even the bravest dwarves. No dwarf had ever survived banishment, but Martoth will was strong. He fought hundreds of undead, using every skill he knew to survive, even subsisting on the flesh of zombies to keep himself from death. After 3 days his armor was worthless and his sword was broken, with the embers of his last torch he discovered an entrance to the surface. For the first time he saw the sun, blinded at first by its rays, he wondered along the roads asking travelers the location of nearby dwarven cities. After another two days of hardship, he reached the gates Kal’Urguan. He had only been in the city for a few hours when I came upon him, and his meal in the tavern was the first food and drink he had in days. Needless to say, I was not aware of such hardiness in the dwarven people, even though they are reknowned for their vitality. He finished his meal and we parted as friends, not before, of course, he reminded me that I was wearing his amulet.
Your characters ambitions: Martoth is filled with grief and self-loathing. If he has an ambition it would be to one day to clear his name, restore his family to their former wealth and take vengeance on the wealthy aristocrats who cast him from his happy life.
Out in the Wilds, your character comes across a small cottage. Outside, there appears to be an elf struggling combat with two bandits. What does your character do?
This would depend on several things, is the elf a man or a woman? Are the bandits obviously bandits, or could they be mistaken for innocent farmers? Because of Martoth’s religious background and because of his desire to be honorable, he would most likely help the elf if he/she appears to be being bested.
Your character walks up to a shop in the middle of Al'Khazar. "Hello, my good sir!" says the shop owner. "What may I help you with today?" Martoth would most likely be short with the shopkeeper and not desire to engage in small talk. “I need some armor and a sword. “ After paying for the items, he would leave without responding any further.
A screenshot of your skin: http://www.minecraftskins.info/dwarf.html
