whoisbatman

MC name: Ryanracoons Name: Alfonse VanHolde Race: Human HAIL THE HOLY OREN EMPIRE Biography (Few sentences): ((This is VERY abridged, you can find the full biography here: http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/83509-%E2%9C%94-accepted-ryanracoons-app-human/ )) Alfonse Was born towards the end of the Snow’s Maiden in the rich capital of Abresi, His father Jerald served as a shipping manager and his mother, Adeline was a stay at home mother who occasionally sold handicrafts. The family was far from wealthy, living in the slums of the city. Alfonse lived as a normal slum rat, finding work for a mysterious figure known as The Ratmaster, but eventually his father raised the money to purchase the boy a book from which he was kept occupied with the trials of learning to read and write. This later led to Alfonse being able to speak good common rather than broken slum tongues. By the time Alfonse was twelve, he had delved into the world of underground fighting, spending every waking moment he had away from his parents fighting for money and practice. After one particular scrap, Alfonse ended up being beat within an inch of his life, but was coincidentally saved by The Ratmaster, his previous employer from his childhood. Between the moral debt, and promise to train Alfonse, The Ratmaster had Alfonse in his clutches once more. The boy was taught the art of archery, wit, and thievery through difficult training, and complex tasks performed around the city. Eventually, the tasks became more stressful on Alfonse’s morals, shifting from victimless thievery and vandalism to in one case the murder of an entire family (Murder by which Alfonse took no part in). Upon realizing this, Alfonse fled from the Ratmaster, and began to work for his father where he quickly built up influence among the working class of citizens affected by The Ratmaster’s wrongdoings, and effectively led a minor rebellion against him. Upon victory over the Ratmaster, Alfonse decided it was time to pursue his dream of adventure and left from the capital for a short time. He explored the Elvish settlements, and the rich Dwarven mountains, before receiving word from his father to seek out another man by the name of Vectis Vekon, the son of Jerald’s previous employer who had lost a game of dice to him, and owed a moral debt. Vectis was serving as a shield in Salvus, however upon hearing Alfonse’s story, he stepped down from his position, and accompanied him in his travels. Eventually, the duo found themselves back at the capitol. Vectis, ever craving justice and worth ended up applying for the emperor’s dragon guard. Due to his background with the shields, he was accepted into the order rather quickly. The two traveled together more, despite Vectis’s obligations, they still found time to explore, and eventually found themselves fending off highwaymen and various other threats upon the Anthos highway. Eventually, Alfonse came across a traveler that recommended that he join the Order of the white rose in the capital. Curious about the recommendation, he arrived to the keep, only to find an elven squire by the name of Fujiwara who convinced him to give the order of the lion a chance. Alfonse found it hard to refuse after previously seeing their knight win a royal tourney just that previous day, and decided to join. He was given an application form, and instantly began to fill it out. Do you have a VA? For which evils?: N/A Why do you wish to join the Chapter?: Alfonse has decided to join the Order to make a difference, to serve the Oren Empire, and to better himself. Not to mention his plans to repent his past evils. Any past experience in Oren's military?: None. Skills and Abilities?: Archery: The man has been taught by some of the most infamous rouges of Anthos to use his bow as an extension of himself. He is armed with a strong recurve longbow with bladed ends, and he is bloody proficient with it, particularly versed in the skills of long range shooting, and the uncanny ability to notch an arrow in very short periods of time. Survivalism: Alfonse spent plenty of time among the wooded areas of Anthos and has been able to forage from the land around him, to not only survive, but thrive in an environment close to nature. His skills in hunting, herb gathering, and tracking make him an ideal companion when traversing the wilds. Cunning: Where his arrow fails, Alfonse’s words succeed. Growing up penniless, he’s found himself great at bargaining, and thinking outside the box to get what he wants. His poker face is incredible, and his wit has given him the edge in more than one situation. Well spoken Slum dog: Being raised in poverty, Alfonse relates to those who are without coin, and struggling to survive, but through his father’s teachings and determination, he’s become literate, and well spoken. Criminal record?: Alfonse was never caught for any of his crimes, but as a youth, he did find employment through pickpocketing, lockpicking, and various other forms of thievery. His time with The Ratmaster saw him performing more difficult tasks such as breaking and entering, and thievery of very expensive items. Since then he has never stolen a thing, and often pays more for what he buys as silent repentance for his sins. What do you think the most valuable trait to have is?: The most valuable is trait to have is wit. Without the ability to reason through your conflicts you’re nothing more than a barbaric fiend. The ability to see many possible outcomes through foresight proves much more favorable than blindly taking on your obstacles. Are you applying as a footman or squire? If you are applying as a Squire, you'll need noble blood of an actual officially approved Oren noble house: Applying as a footman.

Out-Of-Character Information Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate. Minecraft Account Name: ryanracoons How old are you?: Eighteen Time-Zone: CST Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Yes, I have! What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Four years of Runescape roleplay, just under a year of Guild wars 2 roleplay, Meez fourm rp for two years, tabletop role-play occasionally. How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: Drazker Link any applications that you have previously made for the server: (null) Have you posted this application on the Minecraft Forum? If not, then please do so (link above): I have! Have you read the Human lore, and shall you ensure you make use of it and follow it in your biography?:I have! FOR THE HOLY OREN EMPIRE. Definitions In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!: Role-playing: Roleplaying is the act of creating and playing a role for yourself in various fantasy universes and settings. The main uses for role-playing can be an escape from reality, creative writing practice, practice of social interaction, or to simply-…have fun. Roleplaying in many ways can be much like stage acting, you’re expected to mold with many roles, though we all have our specializations. Meta-gaming: Meta-gaming is the act of using OOC information IC without proper knowledge of it in-character, meta-gaming can also refer to the act of blurring the solid IC/OOC barrier. Power-emoting: Power-emoting or auto hitting is performing an action that is created without the possibility of a block or resistance. For example; *Person A stabs you with his blade.* It is correct to provide a better action that allows the other roleplayer to offer resistance if they so choose. In-Character Information: Complete the following biography on your character: Full Name: Alfonse VanHolde Current Age: 19 Sub-race (if any): N/A Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): Deep into the Snow’s Maiden in the slums of Abresi, a child’s cry is heard-…after four intense hours of labor, Adaline VanHolde pushes young Alfonse into the world. A healthy child with a cold blue stare looks from her to his father, Jerald, as the doctor begins to pack his things up, and offers his farewell; the new family spends their first moments together… Malin’s Welcome. The boy has now aged to six, a smiling pale northerner, with the lanky build of a southeron waves goodbye to his hardworking father, a shipping specialist (or a crate handler…) meanwhile, his mother places away her dishes, and runs delicate fingers through the boy’s soot black hair, he turns to her, offering a mischievous smile before scrambling off to play. Alfonse lived a stereotypical slum rat’s childhood. Rather than studies, grammar school, and truth faith sermons, he favored work for a mysterious figure known to the children “The Ratmaster” Practicing the arts of deft hands, and five fingered thievery he made a decent living. This continued until one evening, his father caught Alfonse doing this and gave him a stern talking to, involving an oak switch and his knuckles. A lesson well learned. The First Seed. Alfonse stands at the ready as his father presents to him his tenth name day gift. Wrapped in a thick red bolt of cloth, Alfonse unclamps the bindings to find the leather-bound tome marked with arcane symbols etched upon the surface. “A traveling sage sold this to me, what do you think?” Upon flipping the cover open, Alfonse would squint at the pages attempting to form a sentence but ultimately failing…”I-…I can’t read this, father.” With a light hearted chuckle, Jerald tossles the boy’s hair “That is why you will teach yourself. If you want to learn what the book offers, you’ll have to learn yourself!” With a determined nod, the boy smiles to his father before heading off to his bed so that he may start his studies. At the age of ten, Alfonse began to teach himself to read, through word of mouth from passing strangers, and travelers alike, he’d form syllables and begin to decipher the old journal. It was a text that spoke of a world before his, spoke of magic…spoke of aegis. Within the pages, Alfonse found his calling- Adventure. One could say that this would be the turning point in the boy’s life. The Second Seed. Children all around shout and cry screaming bets and chants just as a discarded rust covered bell is bashed with a wooden mallet, sending out a resounding *PING* at which point the two boys step forth, backed by the moonlight is one Alfonse VanHolde, twelve years of age, his build now visible due to his time preparing for the future, a well developing young man…Moments later, another boy steps into the corner opposite of him, a stocky older boy, his features masked by a rawhide leather mask, shadowing all but his savage brown eyes. The mallet pings again. The children let out a loud collective cry as Alfonse’s opponent sprints foreword, sending a heavy strike to the jaw…without any resistance, the boy is out cold…moments later, the boy finds himself awake in the prep room with a familiar face staring back at him… With the journal read, Alfonse begins to practice the skills he’ll need to become a successful adventurer, transferring his time to the panther’s den- an underground fighting ring where children and older boys would go to fight, and place bets on fights. Yet another place that the boy didn’t belong…Alfonse was a good fighter by most standards but his main fault was that he seemed to always end up choosing to go against a bigger opponent, Eventually leading to his downfall. During the fight with the boy known as ‘Masque,’ Alfonse was being watched. Upon waking up, a ghost from his childhood takes him in- The Ratmaster. The Grand Harvest. The sounds of vermin scurrying about, and drunkards arguing is interrupted by the violent smash of a window. Hushes are heard all around as the trio of black garbed figures slide into the home, careful to avoid any stray glass, once inside the group climbs the stairs. “What did we come here for again”? Blurts out the figure in the back of the group in a shaky nervous voice. “Shut your Gob, Vern!” Retorts the one on point before they all scramble up the stairs, and towards an intricate looking locked door, the figure on point crouches down to the lock and begins to work it. Only seconds later, the door clicks open, and the trio enters. “The Ratmaster sure expected much from us, he did…” “Of course-…because only /we/ can get him an item of this caliber.” “What did I /just/ say? Shut up!” The trio makes its way to the back of the study where a small chest is located, upon reaching into his pocket, the central figure retrieves a key, inserting it into the keyhole, the chest clicks open…Removing his blackened masque, the ‘leader’ of the group lets his soot black hair fall down around his shoulders a grin coming upon his face as he lifts the small dagger from within the chest up. “We’ve got it Alfonse, good work!” As it would be apparent by now, The Ratmaster wasn’t the best influence. After the night at the Panther’s den, Alfonse began to work for him in exchange for knowledge. He’d learn the arts of speech craft, archery, poison craft, and lock picking from the Ratmaster and his many other rouge disciples, and in turn did many odd jobs for the shady master of the streets. He was normally tasked with breaking and entering or destruction of property. Between all of this, the fifteen year old Alfonse found time to charm the young girls with his boyish looks and dangerous attitude, but as fate would have it, the poor boy despite his best efforts could never muster up enough initiative to talk to a girl. The Ratmaster had told him that all of his work would be for a higher purpose, one involving getting him and all of his disciples out of poverty, and into the manors of the capital city. The Sun’s Smile. “Please! Don’t-…You don’t have to do th-…” The young girl would cry, being cut short by a backhand to the cheek by a wild eyed leather clad member of the Ratmaster’s pack. The group of rouges stood in a circle around the girl, bound to a chair, her parent’s corpses lying dead with fresh blood pouring from their throats. Among the Rouges stood The Ratmaster, wearing his tattered cloak, and splitmail armor, lifted from the corpse of a city guard, his willow brown hair greased back to reveal his aging features, set into a disgusted, and twisted grimace as he looks her over. “But I have to, my little porcelain doll…it is the last step of the master plan…with your life extinguished, your home will be vacant, and your riches…mine.” In the back of the crowd, stood Alfonse, watching this scene with bitter disapproval, his father’s words echoing in his head to do the right thing…to save her. Another horrid slap would be heard, along with a whimper. She spits a spot of blood onto the opulent rug at her feet. “Enough of this!” Shouted the Ratmaster, looking back to his pack “You boys have worked for me long enough, it is time that we settle into our new home-…a new home that wouldn’t be gained without the aid of one of your own-…Alfonse, my boy Come forth.” Reaching into his belt, the Ratmaster withdraws the blade, that Alfonse collected only three years ago, handing it to him. “It is only right that you plant the blow that changes all of our lives.” Alfonse took the blade stepping towards the girl, and placing his hand upon her head, against her thrashes, he’d hold the blade to her throat and quickly fein a glide past it, before quickly sliding it down to cut her bindings, in the shock of the moment, he lifts her up sprinting towards the window where shoulder charges against it, and leaps out…away from the savages he’s called his brothers for years...away from the Ratmaster. With a heavy thud, he rolls with her onto the cobblestone, a grunt escaping his lips. He rises to his feet and goes to grab her hand which happily takes his. As they run off towards an alleyway, her hand becomes limp, and she falls, the tail-end of a bolt sticking upright from the back of her blonde head. Looking up to the window he had broken out of, Alfonse exchanges a one last glance with the furious crossbow wielding Ratmaster, watching him from the warmth of his promised mansion. Again, as to be expected, his father was right, and the streets showed their corruption to young Alfonse that fateful night. After years of hard work for his mentor, and unknowing destruction to the city around him, Alfonse finally makes this realization. Perhaps this is what the boy needed to be set on the right path once more. Following this incident, Alfonse went home, he held his mother and father close, and began simple work with his dad, a good start to redemption. However, in his free time, Alfonse readied himself to right his wrongs in a more physical sense; the murder of innocents where grounds for the highest of punishments. Death to the Ratmaster, and anyone that remains loyal to him. The Amber Cold. A light snow dances falls upon the raven haired boy’s person as he steps down the familiar upscale neighborhood from the night just over a year ago. He walks alone towards the building with a red flag hanging in its window, soon two other men follow behind him, then four, then six…soon, Alfonse is backed by a small army of vigilantes from his slum, work partners, and off duty town guards. As he enters the square of the now decrepit neighborhood, he looks to the rouges that now loiter around. They clearly recognize him, and his followers, rising to their feet and withdrawing cudgels, and blades. The square begins to fill with the Ratmaster’s pack. Then the man of the hour appears, the Ratmaster himself emerges from his master bedroom, and looks over the scene, a wild smile forming upon his face as he shouts out. “The young traitor returns to take vengeance upon his master? The one that brought him up-…A shame, young Alfonse, you had so much going for you…but now, your light is to be extinguished.” With that, the Ratmaster steps inside of his manor, and the Rouges spring foreword, clashing steel with the Vigilantes, at the heart of the brawl, Alfonse swings his blade wildly, careful to not kill his targets but to rather render them immobile. Around him, however his men cut down Rouges, blood slowly fills the square as men and women die around him for the simple social cause of class and wealth. A few moments later, Alfonse maneuvers the battlefield, kicking the door down into the manor, and sprinting up the stairs to find the Ratmaster in his study, looking over the a small reddened bolt end. “You’re here to right my wrong, Alfonse? You think that when I lie cold that all will be better, and you will be at peace. Your hands are stained just as mine are, boy and there will be nothing you can do to change that.” “You’re wrong. A man is only as good as he chooses!” “And you’re a saint?” “Clearly that is not the case, a saint would refrain from draining you of blood.” “Big words coming from a slum rat, boyo!” And with that, the Ratmaster withdrew his blade, swinging it down in a heavy horizontal strike towards Alfonse’s chest, but it is quickly parried expertly by the same techniques the boy had read from the Journal of his youth. In an instant, Alfonse lunges foreword, quickly burying the long blade into the man’s stomach, leaning close to him as to push him out on the balcony for all to see, starring him deeply in the eyes with his cold icy glare. “I will not humor you fancy swordplay. Your life ends here, In front of your welps, in the square where you took a young girl’s life away with little cause but your own.” The Ratmaster would crack a grin and open his mouth to speak, but he’d be cut short as Alfonse withdrew his blade, and brought it across his throat, spreading the blood over the now still battle bellow. And so Alfonse completed his deed, brought a much needed end to the street master’s reign of tyranny over the neighborhoods of the upper class, but things didn’t change for the boy, he and his men would soon be forgotten, their deeds pushed aside to be recognized as little more than savage gang violence, and the boy would return back to work, back home…But this isn’t the end of his journey, no-…the thirst for adventure still resides within his heart. The Deep Cold. “Alfonse-…they want to give you a medal, and the captian of the guard offered you a starting job with promise of command, rethink this…” The boy was now a man of nineteen, with a faint grin he placed a bundle of arrows into his quiver, speaking to her in a gentle tone. “This city has little to offer me, mother, It’s time that I make my own way, I’ve got you and father a steady form of income pouring in from the crown for my deeds…you’ll be safe, and happy.” “But we’ll miss you, Alfonse…You’re our baby.” He’d hoist the quiver over his shoulder, pulling his mom close to him in a tight embrace. “I’ll return a better man, mother.” With a knowing nod, she placed a kiss upon his forehead and ran her fingers through his hair once more before turning him around and pushing him towards the door where his father waited with a carriage. “I love you Alfonse.” “And I, you.” And with the crack of a whip, the boy was off with his father, to be dropped off at the dock to start his adventure…Would he be coming back to the capital? Or does the world still hold plenty of mystery for him to uncover? This is a tale yet to have been told… Ambitions for the Future: Alfonse wants nothing more than to become a great adventurer, regardless of what he does, he wants to make a difference, preferably for the better. On top of that, the Journal dictates the possibility of magical knowledge which is something that he is willing to conquer in order to respark its light in this new world. Once he is old enough, and can provide well, he’ll purchase a home and settle down with a family, but until then, he wanders. Personality: The fellow is the strong willed, brave and stubborn type that normally ends up face down in a gutter somewhere for their stupidity. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, it is clearly important. Other than a few of his rouge companions and his family, He’s been for the most part a loner for the majority of his life, so It’d be difficult to get close to him, but once one is able to get close to him, he will be the best friend or partner that he can be, as it is in his nature to succeed or to die trying. Skills: Despite being from the slums, Alfonse can read quite well, and is rather well spoken (For the most part) He’s got the mind of a merchant, and the heart of a knight, but is cursed with the feet of a traveler, his wanderlust has become a sort of curse as he finds it difficult making friends, but in many ways it helps him stay in tune with nature. He’s able to craft herbal remedies, or deadly poisons from the wilds of the land, in addition, he’s a skilled huntsman with his bow, knows his way around a lock pick and can even be a decent fellow to have at your side in a melee. Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin): http://imgur.com/u4b3zdz Alfonse is a well kempt traveler and slum-rat which is incredibly suprising, but he’s always been taught that a good appearance can mean everything. Standing at just less than six feet tall, Alfonse hosts an athletic runner’s build. His hair is a sooty black in color and is pressed back behind his ears, and pulled past his pale blue piercing eyes. On his person, he wears the equipment that he needs for travel. A pair of comfortable running knickers tucked into thick leather buckled commoner’s boots. At his waist, he sports a utility belt that holds his now empty sword sheathe, and two plated side arm quivers, in addition to his sheathed steel dagger. Over his chest, he dawns an old steel breastplate that he won during a gamble in his youth with an ancient illegible inscription. His frame is all tucked close with a traveling duster, dark brown in color sporting a black sewn on rain cowl. e Any other details you wish to share about your character: Alfonse is the start to a completely neutral character with a clean moral compass, he’s experienced infamy just as much as fame and has a mind open for most anything. As the creator, I’ve made him to see how the world around him shapes his morals. I’ve got a story arch ready for him, but I’m not going to strictly stick to it. I’m very hopeful that I’ll be able to see this project through. Open-Response-Questions Each question in this section must be answered with a minimum of one paragraph which must describe the event in full. Please be as descriptive as possible and do not break character or lore at any point. ____ 1. Whilst in the mighty human capital you notice a dark-clothed figure stealthily making his way towards the Emperor’s palace - he is clearly up to no good. There are guards within shouting distance - what do you do? Answer: “Hm-…Shouting wouldn’t be the best idea. I shouldn’t spook the fellow.” Alfonse would mutter under his breath as he stepped after the cloaked figure, walking as to not raise suspicion, he melds with a nearby walking crowd to the steps of the palace where the emperor’s holy guardsmen stand watch, upon reaching the base of the stairs with the figure in sight, Alfonse wraps his hand around the dagger, and steps forward towards the figure with his free hand extended, going to purposefully bump into him, at which point, he uses his stumble as a cover to unsheathe the dagger, and move close. At this point, should the hooded individual find a need to fight, Alfonse would be able to bury his dagger right into a close soft spot, speaking audibly so that the passer-bys could hear, Alfonse would announce; “My apologies, sir-…I should really watch where I’m walking…” Without awaiting further reaction from the figure, Alfonse pulls him in close and whispers harshly into his ear. “If you make even the slightest move, I’ll gut you like a pig. I’m making a citizen’s arrest under the flag of the Holy Oren Empire. Do not speak until put on a fair Bishop’s trial.” At this point, Alfonse flags the guards over frantically, and smirks to himself, thanking his clever use of his surroundings for the bust. 2. Whilst wandering in the deep oak forest you come across a large clearing, in which sits a small cobbled cottage. Outside it stands an unstable old man armed with a small iron blade, surrounded by two heavily armed bandits - they appear to be threatening him. You are armed with leather armour and an iron longsword, how do you react? Answer: Looking into the clearing, Alfonse lets out a huff of air, eyes darting from bandit to bandit. For a moment, he considers his options, but then looks down to his blade. “It’d be two bodies to bury this way-…no, no…” At that moment, he notices something; A red pedaled flower… At this point, Alfonse steps into the clearing, hoisting his flask up in the air, staggering towards the two bandits, his hair tossled through wildly, with red berry war paint spread across his face. “Greetin’s gents! I’m ‘ere ta’ bring ye’ brown ale fa’ when ya’ done wiv this sod!” Alfonse crys out in his best slum dialect, looking to the amused faces of what would appear to be the bandit leader, handing him off the ale, he allows the violent looking fellow to take a swig, cocking an eyebrow as he finishes. “ ‘ow was it?” “S’good, good-…now if you’ll excuse me-…” The bandit would be interrupted as Alfonse presented a handful of red flower pedals. “What you just drank, friend is a spot of very, very deadly poison…and without the pedals in my hand, you will surely die by a violent gut wrenching sickness, now, leave the man and I’ll give you the antidote, if not…” Alfonse makes a pantomime knife go across his throat, all the while slowly unsheathing his blade. “Wot-…you…li’!” As the bandit would begin to yell for the attack, Alfonse sprung foreward, finishing the blade withdraw, and effectively burying it into the chest cavity of the bandit leader, just as he finishes, our protagonist crouches down to the leader’s waist, and withdraws his two dagger side arms, hurling one towards a charging bandit bezerker to burry itself heavily in his forehead, stopping him in his tracks like a boar at a hunt. Alfonse then rotates his hips around and lands a bone shattering stiff kick to the next bandit’s shin, causing him to fall on his knees before him, moving the fallen bandit leader’s dagger towards his companion’s throat, Alfonse ***** an eyebrow to the would be assailant. “Leave this old man alone, he’s paid enough debt in his time…Just remember next time you wander into this clearing that he’s got protection.” With that, Alfonse lands a heavy chop to the bandit’s temple, knocking him out cold. Upon turning to the farmer, Alfonse requests a drink of water before stepping off, twirling his new dagger in his palm and whispering a cheerful sea chantey. 3. You are standing within the mighty human capital when you notice a small man standing behind a colourful stall. You approach the stall and notice that the man is selling a variety of general goods - he says that he is selling just about anything and that he has no set prices. He is willing to allow you to haggle and choose prices. What do you do? (Explain: your haggling, items of choice and the discussion that happens). Answer: Alfonse groans a bit, stretching his arms as he begins to look over the wares, going back from the merchant to the stall. “You sell anything, hm?” “yes, anything.” “Right-…” Moving his hands across the table, Alfonse lifts a pair of wooden dice, feeling them in his palm, and rotating his hand, he lets them sink down his sleeve, and another pair from within his sleeve roll foreword in a quick slight of hand, Alfonse presents the dice in an open palm, pointing to a new leather knapsack and a fresh quiver of newly fletched Oren arrows. “A bet. If I can predict the roll of these dice the first time through, you will sell me the knapsack and arrows for the price of only one arrow.” “I’m not sure about that sir-…” “Come now! What’s business without a spot of pleasure!” “…Hm-…fine, fine. Go on.” Alfonse begins to shake the dice, looking to them thoughtfully, uttering under his breath purposefully his prediction before announcing it. “Six and five-…Six and five…” The shopkeeper gulps a moment before the hollow pound of the dice hits his table and eleven dots are visible on the dice, six on one, and five on the other. Without hesitation, Alfonse scoops them up, sliding them into his coat, and letting the two non-loaded ones fall into his hand. “Wh-…They must be loaded?!” “Sir-…I only used the dice you sold me…Test them out if you’d like.” The shopkeeper obliges, rolling the dice only to find that it appears that Alfonse had a lucky guess. With a low sigh, he announces. “One Knapsack, and one quiver of arrows…Six Mina.” “Gladly. Here you are.” Alfonse beams, reaching into his coin purse, sliding them towards the merchant and receiving his items, quickly stepping off for fear of him being challenged to remove his coat. (( I'm having issues posting on minecraft's forums considering my account is new, they are doing some sort of post verification. It should be up over there soon!))