Out-Of-Character Details
Minecraft Account Name:luccadeas
How old are you?:14
Time-Zone/Country of Residence:United States, CMP
Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?:Yes.
Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?:Yes, a lot of experience
Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?:Yes
How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?:Searching for roleplay servers
Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft:This is my first application
Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraft...nique-gameplay/! :Sure thing!
Definitions
In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: Acting in someone else's role. Whether it be your own character, or pretending to be someone else. You often speak and act differently.
In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: Your character making decisions based on information you (As a real person) have acquired out of character
In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is:Forcing another character to do something, without agreeing upon it first. Like: *Arnok ties Lysander to a tree and kills him*
In-Character Details
Character Name: Arnok Battlehammer
Character Race: Dwarf
Character biography - Make this at least 2 paragraphs long, which must explain your character’s history, appearance, personality, age and any other details you deem necessary:
Arnok and his brother Baerdun trotted down a rough rocky trail through The Mountains. Arnok’s long, red, braided beard swayed as he and his brother hummed a Dwarven Hymn together- one that praised their god for his creation of the Dwarves. They were as close as it gets, Arnok and Baerdun. They could communicate to each other through mere body language, and were two parts to the same machine; mining, forging, drinking, and fighting together. Arnok at the age of 45 and Baerdun ten years younger, both were as strong as ever. Anything they set their minds too they could achieve.
Assigned to the task of mining coal and iron, they were heading back to their village with large packs on their back.
“Oi brother, I’ve got a question I’ve been meaning to ask yee.” Baerdun said after finishing the hymn
“Go on then Baerdun, throw it at me.” The Eldest Brotherreplied, adjusting his belt.
“ What would yee do if you were king? Of The Dwarves and all their clans, of these mountains?”
Arnok looked to the mountains searchingly for a moment, as if they would tell him the answer. “Well” He started “I’d protect these lands, and our people. I’d compromise when it came down to it, and never let The Orcs do ill-harm to us. And I couldn’t forget, what kind of King would I be without holding the best festivals?”
Baerdun smiled at Arnok’s humor, and tossed a rock up and down in the air. “Aye” He said. “You’d be a good king, that yee would. I’ll always be at yer side too.”
Arnok grinned and patted Baerdun on the shoulder, and the two carried on the trail. Upon reaching the peak of the hill, they saw an image that would be burned into their memory forever: Their village, their home, was ablaze and ransacked. Doors and windows were destroyed, and entire homes were ablaze. A small army of 30 or so Orcs could be seen in the distance, marching away from the village- no doubt to their own.
Arnok clenched his jaw tightly, holding back a cry that would reveal their location to the Orcs. He fell to his knees and beat the earth with his bare fists mercilessly. Baerdun could only stare, as he wordlessly mouthed the words to a Dwarven prayer.
Though devastated, the brothers kept their heads. There was no time for tears nor curses against fate. Only one thing could be done: Revenge.
“Doing this before nightfall… was a big mistake for them.” Baerdun murmured as he dropped his pack and unlatched his war-hammer crafted from the finest materials. Arnok did the same.
“Aye, it will be their undoing. We sprint to their village, and take them by surprise in the night.”
Baerdun looked Arnok in the eyes and they nodded simultaneously. They set off in a sprint after The Orcs, their faces grim and determined.
Midnight. Arnok and Baerdun sat crouched, watching the Orcish village from a nearby hill. The Orcs slept with full stomachs- having feasted on the innocent villagers from the raid before. No guard was set, as they thought that they had killed and devoured any enemies they had. How deadly wrong they were. Arnok and Baerdun crept into the village undetected, up to the doorway of what looked like the Orcish barracks. They were never ones to favor stealth, so from here on out they were going to approach things how they always did: Head on, war hammer out.
Arnok gave the countdown, and they kicked down the hut door. It seemed that the Orcs weren’t sleeping as soundly as they thought, for 10 of them were well awake playing some sort of dice game. The Brothers roared out a Dwarven Battle Cry- fighting them awake would be more honorable and much more fun. They sprinted into the midst of the Orcs, breaking legs with sweeping blows as they reached the center of the room.
“Back to Back!” Arnok yelled. The Brothers put their backs to eachother and started moving in a circle, so as to not hurt on another in the midst of their swings. The art of the war hammer was about momentum, and timing. The Brothers knew this, and they spun in the middle of The Orcs as one: gaining speed and momentum for their war hammers, they cleaved through the ranks of 25 Orcs. They were an unstoppable spinning force of pure carnage. By the end of it, one could not tell where one body began and another ended.
Just as they left the barracks five armored Orcs marched out of the longhouse- one of them dressed in ceremonial armor much more intricate then the other four. Baerdun and Arnok didn’t waste any time, and reflexively drew their axes and sent them flying through the air. One hit an Orc straight in the forehead, sending him backwards to the ground. The other pierced an Orc’s neck and he reached for it as his last life force drained away with his blood. Arnok sprinted towards the closest Orc and brought his war hammer down from over-head, piercing the Orc’s shield and causing it to cut into its wielder’s flesh. Arnok yelled a Dwarven battle cry as he swung his war hammer against the Orc’s legs, crushing the bones. He still had enough momentum for a second attack, and brought the hammer crushing down onto the Orc’s ribcage. This Orc wasn’t going to get up, and he made sure of it. Arnok looked over to find his brother removing his war hammer from an Orc’s armor and smiled deviously. There was only one left.
The Orcish Chieftain pulled out two twin axes, and assumed an experienced battle stance. He came at both of them with a series of flourishes, striking this way and that while The Brothers carefully blocked his strikes and countered with their own. The Chieftain made a dash for Arnok’s legs and caught him off guard. But his strike lacked the needed strength and bounced off of Arnok’s this armor. Baerdun swept his warhammer in The Chieftain’s direction, but his reach was too short. Taking advantage of the moment, The Chieftain put on foot on Baerdun’s war hammer and launched himself into the air, spin around and had his axes poised mid air- ready to cleave into Baerdun’s back. But Baerdun foresaw this and heaved his war hammer into the air. The Chieftain and the hammer met with such force, that The Brother’s heard The Chieftain’s entire ribs crack. He laid on the ground, unable to do anything but scream to his gods. They were not coming, and Baerdun chuckled.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, you over-bloated green pig” Arnok circled to one side of the chieftain, and Baerdun stood on the other. “We’re going to take your ears. From now on, we’re taking the ears of every gods-damned Orc we kill and we’ll keep ‘em on a necklace. So you and the rest of yer kind know who we are.” Arnok and Baerdun pulled out a small dagger and place it at the base of the chieftain’s ears. “Let it be known, that on this day, The Battlehammers were born. And any Orc that lays a hand on a Dwarf, or treads into our land with ill intentions, is asking for our fury.” Arnok finished, as he and Baerdun cut off the chieftain’s ears. Baerdun kicked him to the ground, and the brother’s walked out of the village. The past lay at their backs, and a future of Orc-killing, drinking, forging; mining, and politics lay ahead of them. Arnok and Baerdun started to hum the same Dwarven Hymn.
Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: http://gyazo.com/862420aab1e7cbf6afd36307b220f083
Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: Arnok is a fierce warrior, with a warm love for his own kind but a fiery hatred for Orcs. His brother Baerdun often cools him down.
Open-Response-Questions
Each question here must be answered with a minimum of one full paragraph, and detail the scene you are given in the way it would happen in roleplay. These questions should be answered in first person. Be detailed, not short.
Upon entering the Mighty Human City of Arethor, you come across a shop-keeper calling out to sell his wares to passers-by. The shopkeeper is not a Human, he is a poor dwarf looking to make a living in a new city. What is your response?
"Oi, a fellow Dwarf! I'll gladly buy some of yer wares. No one forges a blade quite like the hands of a Dwarf, aye brother?"
*buys a hefty amount of merchandise and pays extra*
Merchant: "Ahh, finally sold something to day... come back anytime!"
"Aye, I'll make sure too. I'll see you around, me Dwarven brother."
You’re wandering the Oren Road late at night, when a large Orc begins to threaten a nearby dwarf. There is no help nearby, and the situation looks like it will escalate into violence soon, what does your character do? *looks at Baerdun and nods* "Oi, Orc! Yee've got three seconds before me axe finds its blade in yer head!"
Orc: "Back off, this ones mine!"
"That's it, me axe hungers for Orc blood!"
*combat ends, the orc lays beheaded on the ground*
Dwarf: "Oh, thank yee heroes! If it weren't fer you, I'd be Orc food."
"Aye, no thanks needed. I'll gladly help a Dwarven brother in his time of need."
Whilst walking down the road to Malinor, you stumble upon an old man. His walking stick , looks weak and frail, and just as you are about to ask something, the stick breaks, and the man falls to the ground. As he falls down, a bag of Minas falls to the ground, and splits open. As you watch the multiple coins spill out, you peer down at the defenceless man. What does your character do?: *helps old man up without saying a word*
Old man: "Oh, thank you! I might have died if it weren't for you."
Arnok: "Oi, don't think nothin' of it. Could walk by just leavin' 'ya there, could I?"
*picks up sturdy stick* "Here, use this."
Old Man: "Thank you again!"
