Harig Grigswol

As Sighard walked down the Southern Road, a flyer hit him straight in the face as a gust of wind pushed past him. He looked at the paper for a moment, but could not understand a single word other than some names. He crumpled up the paper and threw it at a duck that was strolling by, before continuing on his way to the Cloud Temple.

Hello!

Minecraft Account Name: My Minecraft Account Name is xxeasydoesitxx.

How old are you?: I am 15 years old.

Time-Zone/Country of Residence: I live in UTC-5, the East Coast of the United States.

Do you have a good grip on English grammar and the English language?: I believe I have an excellent grip on English grammar and language. I like to keep to proper grammar, and rarely ever stray off the path to use text talk or 1337.

Have you had any previous experience in roleplaying?: I do not have much experience in roleplaying. I do, however, have a vivid imagination. I can work on my roleplaying skills, I assure you. Everyone has their start somewhere, right? I hope it's here.

Have you read and understood and agree to the rules?: I have read, understood, and agreed to all rules of the Lord of the Craft.

How did you hear about the Lord of the Craft?: I was browsing the Minecraft Forums when I found this server's topic, and it attracted me like gravity to these forums.

Link any previous applications you have made to the Lord of the Craft: I have not posted any other applications.

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/! : Yes, I did.

In your own words, define what the act of roleplaying is: Roleplaying is not just 'stepping into someone's shoes.' It is stepping into their mind, their feelings, their nervous system, their clothing, their life. You are not your character, your character is it's own. It's where you play out someone that is not like you at all, or much like you.

In your own words, define what the act of meta-gaming is: Meta-gaming is the act of using out-of-character information for personal benefit in roleplay. Some sources you can meta-game from are the out-of-character forums, Skype, TeamSpeak, or the /t system.

In your own words, define what the act of power-emoting is: Power-emoting is the act of roleplaying out something that would be much out-of-reach for your character. An alchemist's apprentice would not be able to conjure a potion that gave you wings and made you invincible. It's RPing out of your character's skill zone. Such power-emoting could be crafting a diamond sword in the matter of seconds, a Halfling ripping off an Orc's arms without a problem, or even pickpocketing someone without the chance of failure.

Character Name: My Character's Name is Harig Grigswol.

Character Race: My Character is a Human.

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: Harig was born during a blizzardy Deep Cold eve to a blacksmith and his wife at the northern tip of the Holy Oren Empire. He was born on the exact date he was expected, average height and weight, and the like. He had sparkling blue eyes like his mother, and blonde soft curls like his father. He wailed extremely loud when he was born, screeching loudly into the loud, white fall of snowflakes outside of his home. His father, Grunjr, decided upon the name Harig. His mother had no say in the matter. He was born a Northerner, which he is to this day.

Harig grew quickly at a young age. He was taller than the other boys in the village, but much less social. At the age of six, he began helping his father at the forge; a decision that he would regret to where he is now. He ate quite a lot. His favorite meal was the meat pies that his mother made for him often. Due to his work on the forge, his skin became tinted with charcoal. He weighed much more than other boys, and was much taller as well.

At the age ten, Harig was four feet eleven inches. He was much taller now than the other boys. He had small muscles and dirty hands, and smelt like smoke and dust. He worked day and night at the forge, for his father was growing older and he might lose himself any minute. Harig weighed in at about one hundred pounds. He socialized with close to no one, other than to himself in a journal he managed to haggle off his mother.

Harig hit puberty at age fifteen, and his voice grew deep and cold. He was five foot eleven at the time, and already one hundred thirty pounds. He worked constantly, and ate when he wasn't. He had completely took over work at the forge from his father, who grew fragile fairly quick for a big man. Harig never learned much at the forge, but he did it for his parents. The boys and girls of the village would often come to the forge and laugh at Harig. Harig, to his anger, would cry constantly when they did so. He cried too much for a boy his age. His emotions often consumed him at night and he would cry and cry after thinking about his life.

At the age of twenty, Harig decided the forge was not his life. His father and mother let him go. He ventured around Asulon, still being made fun of for crying often. His skin is almost permanently tinted charcoal like, making his skin harsh and ugly. He is, quite ugly. He has a beard around his chin and dirty hair. He smells like the forge, smoke and dust and burning. His once pure blue eyes are now hazel and bloodshot. He is a friendly grizzly bear. He would never hurt a fly if he didn't have to, and would rather write in a journal than wrestle with other 'grizzly bears'.

What are your characters ambitions?: My Character's Ambitions are assorted. He wants to wander Asulon and look for a perfect place. He wants to improve his life. He wants Minas, and he wants friends. He wants to settle down eventually and begin a family, but that is lower on his list of ambitions. His number one ambition is to somehow control his emotions.

Please provide an in-game screenshot of your skin here:

Is there anything else you would like to say about your character: He is your friendly neighborhood stench man.

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? Harig nods to the Dwarf. He towers over the small fellow, his horrible stench making the Dwarf almost retch. "Wut be yeh' sellin', sir?," asks Harig. The Dwarf replies with a mumble about swords and armor. Harig frowns, having no need for a weapon or protection. "Surreh', I dunneed those kind'er 'fings," Harig says, handing the Dwarf a small golden coin. "I 'ope dis helps, doe," Harig says, walking off into the deeper parts of 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? Harig scratches his dirty head. He walks over to the arguing fellows and prepares a statement. "Why does ye be fightin', sirs?," Harig asks, both the Dwarf and the Orc now glaring at him. "'E took mah' damn sweetroll!" exclaimed the Dwarf, his hand tightly gripped around his axe. The Orc mumbled something that Harig had no understanding of. "Well, give 'et back," Harig ordered the Orc. The Orc growled and slapped Harig across the face. Harig began to tear up, his left cheek red with pain. Harig grabbed his face and turned. He ran, ran as far as he could so that no one had to see him cry like a girl.

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?: Harig gasps as the man falls down. "Oh, goodness!" Harig exclaimed, kneeling down to help the man. Harig helped the man up with ease, and held his hand. He walked the man to his home, completely forgeting the Minas were left on the road. Later in the day, Harig passed the same spot. The Minas were gone, and Harig had not noticed a thing. Harig continued to an inn, where he noticed a peculiar looking coin purse laying on the counter. Someone must have found them and bought a drink with them, he thought. He ignored it and continued on.