Skyhmane/TLuke222

That spoiler works for me; however the Post-Bio doesn't. I'm not sure what the problem is, and I'll keep working on it. For now, try to refresh. Sorry, I accidentally pressed the wrong button when trying to preview it. I finished writing the Post-Bio story. The journal was in the perspective of Skyhmane's father. Its chronological because that's (usually) how journals are written, however it could be changed. You have a point, but it will take some time and thought to reorganize and rewrite. I've just re-read Shoi's rules for the Character profiles section. He says "please do not post on other's profiles". I'm looking for feed back, and Elven RP seemed most relevant. Thanks for the feedback!

((I'm working on the story for my wood elf character, Skyhmane Moonspear. After you finish reading, if you finish reading, I would really like it if you could give some input. Just post below. This is what I have so far, in chronological order:)) ((Pre-Bio.:Original topic Link)) 26 Something Missing 101 Too good to be True 182 Darkness At the End ((Character App. Bio.:)) ((Post-Bio.:)) ((Sorry, the spoiler for this one isn't working so I removed it)) After this Skyhmane arrives in Normandor and joins the Sentinels. He spends several months in the sentinels. now written in first person from Skyhmane After spending several months in the Sentinels, I became restless. I felt a strong longing for home like a heavy wind blowing against my heart. Two days later I left Malinor in search of my old home in the Wilds. It was a long journey to the Wilds and when I finally arrived at the edge of civilization, I had only a vauge memory of where my home had once been. The forest I once knew so well had changed, growing darker and thicker. I've spent several days in seach with no indicator of progress, but I feel I must be getting close to something. It has been many days since I arrived in the wilds, but today I finally made progress. I found a small cottage abandoned in a small clearing. Approaching it, I could see that it was several years old. The roof had caved in places, and the wood was bleached a pale gray by the sun. I pushed the door open, cautiously stepping inside. Against one wall, an old bed frame was propped up. The only other furnishing was a small desk. Beneath the desk was a trapdoor. I after some struggle, I managed to pry the door open. A ladder led down into a well lit basement. The walls glowed, lit by a strange yellow stone set at regular intervals along the walls. Against the wall furthest from the ladder sat a long stone bench, with all sorts of glass bottles, beakers, and alchemy equipment. There was also a book ((Alexandar's journal, see above)). After reading, I was furious. I was obviously the child mentioned in the book, and my father had killed my mother with his recklessness. I determined that he would pay, with his life. I searched the surrounding woods for a day straight, fueled by hatred. I finally came upon his tree house. No smoke came from the chimney, so I took rest and waited for him to arrive. He came at dusk two days later. I waited in the shadows of a nearby tree. He carried his pack with a lithe ease, obviously still hunting for a living. I stepped out the shadows and it took several moments for the surprise to register on his face. Before He could say anything, I spoke. "I found your journal. I read it. I've had time to think. You abandoned me, that made me hate you. This," I said holding up the book,"This made me loathe you with every fibre in my being." "Kill him", a voice whispered in my head. I drew my dagger, and he stepped back appalled. I quickly swung at his throat. He stepped back barely dodging my blade. While he was off balance, I leaped forward pushing him over. He fell hard on the ground, scrambling to get back up. His feet kicked out trying to push me away. I now fell, swinging downwards with my blade, attempting to stab him in the gut. His feet caused me to miss, embedding my dagger in the soil. My hands stretched out, grabbing his neck. I knew he was still stronger than me, so I would have to be quick. While he reached out attempting to grab my hands, his back arched trying to throw me off. I banged his head against the ground to daze him, and his struggles grew weaker as he ran out of air. Finally he grew still. I felt a sense of triumph. I dragged his body to the base of his tree house, and then I burned it to the ground. I watched the blaze from a far. Even if the fire spread, I knew it would not reach me on the rock mountian, and I settled to sleep. I drempt in startling clarity. I was suspended in a dark abyss, floating in front of a vast, unblinking eye. It stared at me with a frightening intensity, and I knew this must be Iblees. The voice that spoke was neither male nor female, or was it a combination of both? "You've pleased me elf. You took it upon your self to kill your meddling father. I know what you want, you enjoy the thrill of the hunt. I will grant you power, for a price." The voice paused, and I replied. "Name you price, god. I may meet it, if I choose." The words sounded more arrogant than I felt. I heard a deep laugh, like the end of thunder. "You amuse me, what makes you think this is a deal?" My words became cold and brittle, "What is the price you speak of?". The eye answered, "To be clensed and repay the debt, you must injest the flesh of the pure, pray to me, and make sacrifice." I considered this for a moment. As I thought, my mind lost emotion. Disgust and revulsion fled, replaced by greed. Iblees spoke again, "I can see you've made up your mind." The eye widened and I felt myself pulled towards it. Frightened, I looked behind me, I saw a pinpoint of light in the dim of the abyss. I reached for it, but the light was far, far away. I looked back to the eye and was startled by it's size and proximity. It towered, far larger than even the grand tree of Normandoor. I fell towards the iris, the wind rushed past me. Finally, I hit with a splash, engulfed by darkness as I awoke. I had some how fallen into a small pond, I sputtered, reaching the surface. I look up, the cliff I had been sleeping on was above me. I swam to shore wondering what had transpired.

+1 great idea, can't wait to see it!

*After reporting the evil flying stones to his commander, Skyhmane leaves the great tree and walks back towards the gate; glancing around, wary of curious projectiles.*

*Thankful for his near miss, Skyhmane makes it to the great tree, and descends to the barracks.*

((Still looking for a blacksmith, or any one with a hammer or nails really.))

*After quickly opening the gate, Skyhmane rushes to the great tree in search of some nails and a hammer.*

*Disturbed by the slightly maniacal laughter emanating from the trees, Skyhmane leaves his post to go to the barracks.*

*One such pebble falls upon the leather helmet of Skyhmane as he guards the gate. He looks up to find the source of the disturbance, unable to distinguish any perpetrator his gaze returns downward.*

((Dunno who you sent that bird to but I'm gonna reply since I'm bored)) *Roused from his slumber by a tapping on his door, trainee Skyhmane tosses off his covers getting out of bed* "The commander needs someone to open the gate, here are the keys", said Skyhmane's waywatcher, handing him the keys. *Quickly dressing for guard duty, Skyhmane hurries to the gate* "Ayla, travelers, let me open this gate for you."

((You are correct in saying that the exact creation of Homunculi was not detailed by Ithric, but he did mention them. Unless someone besides my character wants to RP finding the journal, I don't plan to submit this as server lore. I think that that quote pretty well justifies Iblees putting an abrupt end to Nef's experiments. As far as non-LoTC alchemy lore goes, this isn't really that far out. I've done my own research.))

((I’m mostly basing this off of my character's story, and some of the alchemy lore. Gonna write a backstory for finding the journal eventually. A word of warning: wall of text. Currently taking sugestions)) Pre-face The complete journal of Nef’Seth Skyhmane. Reader, what you now hold contains my life’s work. I have traveled widely, exploring all parts of the known world, to compile and refine my research. The contents of this journal will catalog the progress of the findings and results of my experiments, as well as explain them. Table of Contents 1 Construction 26 Something Missing 101 Too good to be True 182 Darkness At the End

YES! I love the new changes, unfortunatley. My fave, 2b, still needs references. That's understandable though.

+ Out-Of-Character Details Minecraft Account Name: TLuke222 How old are you?: 16 Time-Zone/Country of Residence:CST/United States of America Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes. Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Some (a little with my friends but nothing serious). Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes. How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: From a friend, tristanx7. Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: 1st attempt 2nd attempt 3rd attempt Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : Definitions In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: The act of roleplaying is to behave as though you are part of different reality. In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: The act of meta-gaming is to break your role by using something outside of the role-reality to alter your actions or by breaking the predefined rules. In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: The act of power-emoting is to make an absolute statement effecting another character. To avoid power-emoting say for example: "I swing sword at Ork", rather than: "I kill Ork with sword". In-Character Details Character Name:Skyhmane Moonspear Character Race:Wood Elf 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: I am Skyhmane Moonspear. I am a male, fair of skin for a wood elf. I die my hair the color of the leaves to better conceal myself. I was sired 18 elven ago, on the outskirts of a small mountain range on the edge of the Wilds. My father was an on and off Illuminus Obscura, although I do not believe in any gods, I do not share my father’s hatred of them. I am unaware of house house I hail from. As an elf of the forest I was able to use a bow by the age of 5. My father taught me the way of the hunt at 7. We were isolated from our kin beneath that mountain, but the wood provided us with all we needed. My father was a hunter. He would disappear for weeks on end then return with money, trinkets, or scars. I believe my mother was a high-elf, but she died of the Plague when I was young and my father never spoke of her so I know nothing more. I When I turned 15 my father said it was time for me to begin hunt on my own. He took me out that night. The moon would have been full but the clouds hid it from sight. We continued our march through the trees. Further and further, days passed as we walked in silence stopping only to eat and rest. Finally we reached the edge of the forest. This was the furthest I had ever gone from our small tree hut. The open plain of the land beyond the forest astonished me, I felt dizzy. My father put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. He looked into my eyes as if trying to see the future there. I examined his face, my eyes traced the lines that I knew so well. He drew in a deep breath, the motion was framilar but the sound of this sigh only increased my sense of foreboding. "I trust that I have taught you well. This is not what I saw as my life but it is what I have made of it. You are an able hunter my son, no, more than able; you have surpassed me. You must now think and make of your life what you will with the skills that you have been given. The earth is a dangerous place but also a beautiful one. It is time for you to find your place in this world and I will not stand in your way any longer." With this he turned and left. I stood stunned as the words set in. It was the most my father had ever said to me and now it seemed he was abandoning me. I slowly sank to the ground still in a trance, unbelieving. I think fell asleep (reference to dreamworld aka. temp server), because when I opened my eyes again the sky had changed and it had begun to pour. My bag was still half full with provisions, so I began to stumble down the road. My mind still turned but it was clearer that I was to continue. I walked until the rain stopped, until the sun fell then rose again. The land had changed, now small huts dotted the rolling hills and the path bore the tread of many. My mind was now entirely clear, I gazed around thinking. My skills were limited to hunting, stealth, and archery. I was still young in this world and could make it as a beggar but my pride would not permit that. Nor could I become a hunter like the father I now hated. As I walked the country, I passed towns seeing and gathering knowledge (reference to time spent as wandering soul). I always was learning, but I couldn’t find anything that suited me. My arrogant and proud nature made me many enemies, so I always moved on. Finally in a large town I found what I was looking for. Three years had passed on my search for a place to fit in. I had seen every thing before, but this was the first town large enough to host a guard. I joined the guard and my skill became quickly apparent. I felt this was what I was meant to do. Defending something, hearing the satisfying snik of a clean kill, I was no longer a hunter of animals but a hunter of enemies. What are your characters ambitions?: My ambitions are to hunt whichever enemies can give me the most challenge, and to make a name for my self as a skilled archer and mercenary. Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: Skyhmane is proud and arrogant, always looking to prove himself, however he will always stop to help those less fortunate. He prefers the company of high-elves despite being a halfling. Without detailed server lore, or even a working map, I have been unable to embellish my character’s bio with any more details. 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? I hail the shopkeeper with a smile, His eyes seem to glimmer with small hope. “I have been unable to find quality arrows in these human markets, and wonder if perhaps you might posses some of what I seek.” He nods quickly and totters to the back of his shop, I hear leather fall of his footsteps stop, then return. He places a cloth-wrapped bundle of arrows on the table. “These arrows are old but their craftsmanship is true.” I unfold the cloth to examine his proposal. The arrows seem old, the wood slightly darkened with age, but as I examine them I see that their craftsmanship holds true to dwarven standard. “I’ll take all of these.” l retrieve the coin-purse from my leather pack. The amount paid seemed to astonish the shopkeeper but he frugally chooses not to mention the over-payment. I place the bundle of arrows in my quiver and continue through the city. 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? I continue to approach, my footsteps only make the slightest impresseion on the grass, and no sound at all. At about 6m draw my bow and arrow, ready for the Orc to face me. He continues to harass the dwarf, pushing him around and shouting insults in Blaah. The sight is actually quite comical, A good 9ft Ork pushing around a 4ft dwarf. As I examine the Ork I see that the Orc carries a club by his side. Returning to the levity of the situation, I see there is no chance of the Ork stopping on his own. “Stop that harassment at once!” The Orc to turn turns toward me and I release a warning shot, it flies into the bark of a nearby tree, and I make a note to collect it later. The Orc fails to dodge or even react and turns back to harassing the dwarf. My next shot strikes him in the head. He falls backwards due to the force of my arrow. The dwarf looks frightened, I sheath my bow as a sign of peace. He seems to calm a bit as I begin to loot the Orc's corpse. I am slightly surprised to see the Orc still breathing, but I find nothing of value, but as I stand to leave the dwarf press a coin into my hand and I nod my silent thanks. 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?: I glance around, there are no signs of an enemy or trick. The wind blows cold but carries no scent. Finally, walk forward and kneel to help the ancient to his feet, his tunic is soiled with the dust of many roads. “Let me get these for you,” I tell the old man. I collect the fallen Minas and return them as he dusts off his tunic. His back is bowed with age so we see each other with eyes even. “Thank you young one.” “You’re welcome, do you need a guide to your destination?” “No, you’ve done enough, good bye.”

+ Out-Of-Character Details Minecraft Account Name: TLuke222 How old are you?: 16 Time-Zone/Country of Residence:CST/United States of America Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes. Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Some (a little with my friends but nothing serious). Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes. How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: From a friend, tristanx7. Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: 1st try: http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/73453-my-1st-app/page__p__601522#entry601522 2nd try: http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/73436-my-1st-app/page__p__601387#entry601387 Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : Definitions In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: The act of roleplaying is to behave as though you are part of different reality. In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: The act of meta-gaming is to break your role by using something outside of the role-reality to alter your actions or by breaking the predefined rules. In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: The act of power-emoting is to make an absolute statement effecting another character. To avoid power-emoting say for example: "I swing sword at Ork", rather than: "I kill Ork with sword". In-Character Details Character Name:Skyhmane Moonspear Character Race:Wood Elf - High Elf halfling 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: I am Skyhmane Moonspear. I am a male, fair of skin for a wood elf. I die my hair the color of the leaves to better conceal myself. I was sired 18 elven ago, on the outskirts of a small mountain range in the Wilds. As an elf of the forest I was able to use a bow by the age of 5. My father taught me the way of the hunt at 7. We were isolated from our kin beneath that mountain, but the wood provided us with all we needed. My father was a hunter. He would disappear for weeks on end then return with money, trinkets, or scars. I belive my mother was a high-elf, however my father never spoke of her so I know nothing more. I When I turned 15 my father said it was time for me to begin hunt on my own. He took me out that night. The moon would have been full but the clouds hid it from sight. We continued our march through the trees. Further and further, days passed as we walked in silence stopping only to eat and rest. Finally we reached the edge of the forest. This was the furthest I had ever gone from our small tree hut. The open plain of the land beyond the forest astonished me, I felt dizzy. My father put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. He looked into my eyes as if trying to see the future there. I examined his face, my eyes traced the lines that I knew so well. He drew in a deep breath, the motion was framilar but the sound of this sigh only increased my sense of foreboding. "I trust that I have taught you well. This is not what I saw as my life but it is what I have made of it. You are an able hunter my son, no, more than able; you have surpassed me. You must now think and make of your life what you will with the skills that you have been given. The earth is a dangerous place but also a beautiful one. It is time for you to find your place in this world and I will not stand in your way any longer." With this he turned and left. I stood stunned as the words set in. It was the most my father had ever said to me and now it seemed he was abandoning me. I slowly sank to the ground still in a trance, non-believing. I think fell asleep (reference to dreamworld aka temp server), because when I opened my eyes again the sky had changed and it had begun to pour. My bag was still half full with provisions, so I began to stumble down the road. My mind still turned but it was clearer that I was to continue. I walked until the rain stopped, until the sun fell then rose again. The land had changed, now small huts dotted the rolling hills and the path bore the tread of many. My mind was now entirely clear, I gazed around thinking. My skills were limited to hunting, stealth, and archery. I was still young in this world and could make it as a beggar but my pride would not permit that. Nor could I become a hunter like the father I now hated. As I walked the country, I passed towns seeing and gathering knowledge (reference to time spent as wondering soul). I always was learning, but I couldn’t find anything that suited me. My arrogant and proud nature made me many enemies, so I always moved on. Finally in a large town I found what I was looking for. Three years had passed on my search for a place to fit in. I had seen every thing before, but this was the first town large enough to host a guard. I joined the guard and my skill became quickly apparent. I felt this was what I was ment to do. Defending something, hearing the satisfying snik of a clean kill, I was no longer a hunter of animals but a hunter of enemies. What are your characters ambitions?: My ambitions are to hunt whichever enemies can give me the most challenge, and to make a name for my self as a skilled archer and mercenary. Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: Skyhmane is proud and arrogant, always looking to prove himself, however he will always stop to help those less fortunate. Without detailed server lore, or even a working map, I have been unable to embellish my character’s bio with any more details. 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? I hail the shop-keeper with a smile, His eyes seem to glimmer with small hope. “I have been unable to find quality arrows in these human markets, and wonder if perhaps you might posses some of what I seek.” He nods quickly and totters to the back of his shop. He places a cloth-wrapped bundle of arrows on the table. “These arrows are old but their craftsmanship is true.” I unfold the cloth to examine his proposal. The arrows seem old, the wood slightly darkened with age, but as I examine them I see that their craftsmanship holds true to dwarven standard. “I’ll take all of these.” l retrieve the coin-purse from my leather pack. The amount paid seemed to astonish the shopkeeper but he frugally chooses not to mention the over-payment. I place the bundle of arrows in my quiver and continue through the city. 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? I draw my bow and arrow, ready for the Orc to face me. He continues to harass the dwarf. I see that the Orc carries a club by his side. “Stop that harassment at once!” My shout causes the Orc to turn and I release a warning shot. The Orc fails to dodge or even react and my next shot strikes him dead. The dwarf looks frightened, I sheath my bow as a sign of peace. He seems to calm a bit as I loot the Orc's corpse. I find nothing of value, but as I stand to leave the dwarf press a coin into my hand and I nod my silent thanks. 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?: I glance around, there are no signs of an enemy or trick. The wind blows coldy but carries no scent. Finally, I kneel to help the ancient to his feet. “Let me get these for you.” I collect the fallen Minas and return them as he dusts off his tunic. His back is bowed with age so we see each other with eyes even. “Thank you young one.” “You’re welcome, do you need a guide to your destination?” “No, you’ve done enough, good bye.”

+ Out-Of-Character Details Minecraft Account Name: TLuke222 How old are you?: 16 Time-Zone/Country of Residence:CST/United States of America Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes. Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Some (a little with my friends but nothing serious). Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes. How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: From a friend, tristanx7. Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : Definitions In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: The act of roleplaying is to behave as though you are part of different reality. In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: The act of meta-gaming is to break your role by refrencing something outside of the role-reality or by breaking the predefined rules. In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: The act of power-emoting is to make an absolute statement effecting another character. To avoid power-emoting say for example: "I swing sword at Ork", rather than: "I kill Ork with sword". In-Character Details Character Name:Skyhmane Moonspear Character Race:Wood Elf (Mori'Quessir hopefully) 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: I am Skyhmane Moonspear. I am a male, fair of skin for a wood elf. I die my hair the color of the leaves to better conceal myself. I was sired 18 elven ago, on the outskirts of a small mountain range. As an elf of the forest I was able to use a bow by the age of 5. My father taught me the way of the hunt at 7. We were isolated from our kin beneath that mountain, but the wood provided us with all we needed. My father was a hunter. He would disappear for weeks on end then return with money, trinkets, or scars. I never knew my mother, Father would never talk about her. When I turned 15 my father said it was time for me to begin hunt on my own. He took me out that night. The moon would have been full but the clouds hid it from sight. We continued our march through the trees. Further and further, days passed as we walked in silence stopping only to eat and rest. Finally we reached the edge of the forest. This was the furthest I had ever gone from our small tree hut. The open plain of the land beyond the forest astonished me, I felt dizzy. My father put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. He looked into my eyes as if trying to see the future there. I examined his face, my eyes traced the lines that I knew so well. He drew in a deep breath, the motion was framilar but the sound of this sigh only increased my sense of foreboding. "I trust that I have taught you well. This is not what I saw as my life but it is what I have made of it. You are an able hunter my son, no, more than able; you have surpassed me. You must now think and make of your life what you will with the skills that you have been given. The earth is a dangerous place but also a beautiful one. It is time for you to find your place in this world and I will not stand in your way any longer." With this he turned and left. I stood stunned as the words set in. It was the most my father had ever said to me and now it seemed he was abandoning me. I slowly sank to the ground still in a trance, non-believing. I think fell asleep, because when I opened my eyes again the sky had changed and it had begun to pour. My bag was still half full with provisions, so I began to stumble down the road. My mind still turned but it was clearer that I was to continue. I walked until the rain stopped, until the sun fell then rose again. The land had changed, now small huts dotted the rolling hills and the path bore the tread of many. My mind was now entirely clear, I gazed around thinking. My skills were limited to hunting, stealth, and archery. I was still young in this world and could make it as a beggar but my pride would not permit that. Nor could I become a hunter like the father I now hated. As I walked the country, I passed towns seeing and gathering knowledge. I would work inns for food and shelter but I always was learning. I couldn’t find anything that suited me. My arrogant and proud nature made me many enemies, so I always moved on. Finally in a large town I found what I was looking for. Three years had passed on my search for a place to fit in. I had seen every thing before, but this was the first town large enough to host a guard. I joined the guard and my skill became quickly apparent. I felt this was what I was ment to do. Defending something, hearing the satisfying snik of a clean kill, I was no longer a hunter of animals but a hunter of enemies. What are your characters ambitions?: My ambitions are to hunt whichever enemies can give me the most challenge, and to make a name for my self as a skilled archer and mercenary. Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: Skyhmane is proud and arrogant, always looking to prove himself, however he will always stop to help those less fortunate. 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? I hail the shop-keeper with a smile, His eyes seem to glimmer with small hope. I express that I have been unable to find quality arrows in these human markets, and wonder if perhaps he might posses some of what I seek. He nods quickly and totters to the back of his shop. He places a cloth-wrapped bundle of arrows on the table. I unfold the cloth to examine his proposal. The arrows seem old, the wood slightly darkened with age, but as I examine them I see that their craftsmanship holds true to dwarven standard. I express my approval and retrieve the coin-purse from my leather pack. The amount paid seemed to astonish the shopkeeper but he frugally chooses not to mention the over-payment. I place the bundle of arrows in my quiver and continue through the city. 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? I draw my bow and arrow, ready for the Orc to face me. He continues to harass the dwarf. I see that the Orc carries a club by his side. My shout causes the Orc to turn and in that instant he is dead, my arrow through his skull. The dwarf looks frightened, I sheath my bow as a sign of peace. He seems to calm a bit as I loot the Orc's corpse. I find nothing of value, but as I stand to leave the dwarf press a coin into my hand and I nod my silent thanks. 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?: I glance around, there are no signs of an enemy or trick. The wind blows coldy but carries no scent. Finally, I kneel to help the ancient to his feet. I collect the fallen Minas and return them as he dusts off his tunic. His back is bowed with age so we see each other with eyes even. He thanks me and I offer to lead him the rest of his journey in place of his shattered cane but he declines.

+ Out-Of-Character Details Minecraft Account Name: TLuke222 How old are you?: 16 Time-Zone/Country of Residence:CST/United States of America Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: Yes. Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: Some (a little with my friends but nothing serious). Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: Yes. How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: From a friend, tristanx7. Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: Have you posted this application on Minecraft Forum? If not, post it here: http://www.minecraftforum.net/topic/832121-the-lord-of-the-craft-enter-the-world-of-asulon-o-f-f-i-c-i-a-l-l-y-t-h-e-n-o-1-r-p-s-e-r-v-e-r-100-unique-gameplay/! : Definitions In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: The act of roleplaying is to behave as though you are part of different reality. In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: The act of meta-gaming is to break your role by refrencing something outside of the role-reality or by breaking the predefined rules. In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: The act of power-emoting is to make an absolute statement effecting another character. To avoid power-emoting say for example: "I swing sword at Ork", rather than: "I kill Ork with sword". In-Character Details Character Name:Skyhmane Moonspear Character Race:Wood Elf (Mori'Quessir hopefully) 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: I am Skyhmane Moonspear. I am a male, fair of skin for a wood elf. I die my hair the color of the leaves to better conceal myself. I was sired 18 elven ago, on the outskirts of a small mountain range. As an elf of the forest I was able to use a bow by the age of 5. My father taught me the way of the hunt at 7. We were isolated from our kin beneath that mountain, but the wood provided us with all we needed. My father was a hunter. He would disappear for weeks on end then return with money, trinkets, or scars. I never knew my mother, Father would never talk about her. When I turned 15 my father said it was time for me to begin hunt on my own. He took me out that night. The moon would have been full but the clouds hid it from sight. We continued our march through the trees. Further and further, days passed as we walked in silence stopping only to eat and rest. Finally we reached the edge of the forest. This was the furthest I had ever gone from our small tree hut. The open plain of the land beyond the forest astonished me, I felt dizzy. My father put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. He looked into my eyes as if trying to see the future there. I examined his face, my eyes traced the lines that I knew so well. He drew in a deep breath, the motion was framilar but the sound of this sigh only increased my sense of foreboding. "I trust that I have taught you well. This is not what I saw as my life but it is what I have made of it. You are an able hunter my son, no, more than able; you have surpassed me. You must now think and make of your life what you will with the skills that you have been given. The earth is a dangerous place but also a beautiful one. It is time for you to find your place in this world and I will not stand in your way any longer." With this he turned and left. I stood stunned as the words set in. It was the most my father had ever said to me and now it seemed he was abandoning me. I slowly sank to the ground still in a trance, non-believing. I think fell asleep, because when I opened my eyes again the sky had changed and it had begun to pour. My bag was still half full with provisions, so I began to stumble down the road. My mind still turned but it was clearer that I was to continue. I walked until the rain stopped, until the sun fell then rose again. The land had changed, now small huts dotted the rolling hills and the path bore the tread of many. My mind was now entirely clear, I gazed around thinking. My skills were limited to hunting, stealth, and archery. I was still young in this world and could make it as a beggar but my pride would not permit that. Nor could I become a hunter like the father I now hated. As I walked the country, I passed towns seeing and gathering knowledge. I would work inns for food and shelter but I always was learning. I couldn’t find anything that suited me. My arrogant and proud nature made me many enemies, so I always moved on. Finally in a large town I found what I was looking for. Three years had passed on my search for a place to fit in. I had seen every thing before, but this was the first town large enough to host a guard. I joined the guard and my skill became quickly apparent. I felt this was what I was ment to do. Defending something, hearing the satisfying snik of a clean kill, I was no longer a hunter of animals but a hunter of enemies. What are your characters ambitions?: My ambitions are to hunt whichever enemies can give me the most challenge, and to make a name for my self as a skilled archer and mercenary. Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here: Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: Skyhmane is proud and arrogant, always looking to prove himself, however he will always stop to help those less fortunate. 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? I hail the shop-keeper with a smile, His eyes seem to glimmer with small hope. I express that I have been unable to find quality arrows in these human markets, and wonder if perhaps he might posses some of what I seek. He nods quickly and totters to the back of his shop. He places a cloth-wrapped bundle of arrows on the table. I unfold the cloth to examine his proposal. The arrows seem old, the wood slightly darkened with age, but as I examine them I see that their craftsmanship holds true to dwarven standard. I express my approval and retrieve the coin-purse from my leather pack. The amount paid seemed to astonish the shopkeeper but he frugally chooses not to mention the over-payment. I place the bundle of arrows in my quiver and continue through the city. 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? I draw my bow and arrow, ready for the Orc to face me. He continues to harass the dwarf. I see that the Orc carries a club by his side. My shout causes the Orc to turn and in that instant he is dead, my arrow through his skull. The dwarf looks frightened, I sheath my bow as a sign of peace. He seems to calm a bit as I loot the Orc's corpse. I find nothing of value, but as I stand to leave the dwarf press a coin into my hand and I nod my silent thanks. 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?: I glance around, there are no signs of an enemy or trick. The wind blows coldy but carries no scent. Finally, I kneel to help the ancient to his feet. I collect the fallen Minas and return them as he dusts off his tunic. His back is bowed with age so we see each other with eyes even. He thanks me and I offer to lead him the rest of his journey in place of his shattered cane but he declines.