Azkott

McName: Azkott RpName: Volk Skype: andreszuniga123 Profession: Man-at-Arms TeamSpeak: No, but I could work on it. Time-Zone: Central.

Damn Kyle, i'll miss you bud. You really got me on my way back in my early days. Your easy going, nonchalant attitude made for many memorable moments. I wish you the best, wherever your path twists and turns, splits or forks.

Vice Marshall Sir Jon Wulfe-McLeod sits in his house, with his brother Aep, pouring over the designs of their new clan hall. As he sits there, thinking, he cannot help but remember who he was once, long before Adunia. A wanderer, a homeless sword, a man without purpose. The memory sits there, clear as day. He drifts off into a daydream, sifting through his oldest of memories. The memories end, when he remembers his new purpose; The Adunian Vice Marshall. After finishing up the brief chat with Aep, he moves off, heading to the armoury to pick up his new tabard, a spring to the large man's step.

This brought me back to the time Jon kept coming into the clinic, covered in all kinds of wounds. Good times. :3

Jon proceeds to classically facepalm, which has lately been his most common action, considering how things have been going. "They didn't even give 'er toime tah gro' up..." He mumbles to himself, as he is informed of the wedding. Being an Adunian, he is somehow invited. With luck he won't be ordered to go to Vaerhaven, which has since then become his worse nightmare.

Jon Wulfe passes a note. After a quick read, the adunian knight snarls. "Edgy feckers... They'll have tah go through me and o'er half the 'dunian military!" He says, half-chuckling.

Oh, the lil' ones wanna play? Well boo-hoo. Adunians play rough. Let's teach them a lesson the hard way...."-Vice Marshall Sir Jon Wulfe.

((I would like to be added to the knights, for reference, Im Sir Jon Wulfe.))

Jon Wulfe walks into the throne room, his usual mug of coffee at hand, looking to all the incredibly weird, distorted faces being made, directed towards the Adunian throne. He takes a sip, before sitting down nearby, wondering how long they can hold their hilarious glances and malicious glares.

Jon Wulfe sees the fort, Empty. He grabs a miniature scaling ladder, and makes his way over the wall, smiling devilishly. He takes down the flag, replacing it with his own house's colours. "I hereby claim this fort in the name of House Wulfe!" He calls out, memories of his childhood rushing back to him as he gathers up snow for a long siege ahead of him.*

-Jon Wulfe walks down the road, noticing the body. He kneels by it, gazing almost incredulously at it. "Vuln..." He whispers, shaking his head softly. "The hell did you get into..." He orders the crowd to disperse, waving them off with a hand on his sword hilt, his Icy blue eyes fading to a grim grey from times past. He knelt by the bloodied Dark Elf again. "May you go to whatever Deity you praised, old friend..." With that, He moved his old friend's corpse to a shady grove, to rest under a tree, leaving him there without a final, pained glance. "What is this Realm coming to..." He mutters to himself, sighing shakily, walking off towards Adunia. Along the path, he couldn't help but notice... It didn't look much like the Vuln he remembered at all.

Jon Wulfe stands from the long war council with the hellshearts, filing out with his usual mug of coffee at hand. He takes the news of the battle as he does most things; Shoves them deep in his mind, until they have needs to be resurfaced. He takes a long look at his friends in turn as he walks out, wondering if after the gruesome offense he'll ever see them again. His hand twitches, as if urging him to take a hold of his sword. The tall, fair-haired Adunian went outside, gazing at the sunset. As he gazed into it's last rays, he focused, almost as if shutting of his emotional clock, steeling himself for battle. The usual humor and joy in his eyes was gone, replaced with grim confidence and exceptance. There would be no mercy.

OOC: MC Name: Azkott Age: 15 Country: United States/Mexico Time-Zone:Central Time How much time can you be online per day?: Quite a while, though it varies, for my days are very random. How long have you been playing on the server?: About 3 months now. What past guilds have you been apart of?: the Mageshields. Have you ever held a leadership role before?: No I have not. How would you describe yourself?: A strong young man, keen of mind and to some extent wise. He is, though, A bit strong-headed and doesn't let go of a grudge for quite a while. Do you have a Skype? If so what is your name?: Andreszuniga123 ((not very creative, I know.)) Do you have a VA?: No, I do not. IC: Name: Jon Wulfe Race: Human (northerner) Age: 23 Past Experience: Village burned down, have forever since wandered the wilds. Many do not take a liking to a tall stranger, and as such have in many occasions been a outcast. What are your skills?: Swordsmanship, bowmanship, sailing, strategizing, tracking and exploring. What weapon do you prefer?: the hand-and-a-half sword. Why do you wish to join the Order?: Because it is a good cause, a honorable one that in my point of view wishes to end a great number of evils in this realm. What is your personality like?: Kind, and of a charming and helpful disposition. A bit curious, and strong-headed. What are some strengths of yours?: My willpower, my courage, my voice which has on many occasions ended the blood-spill before it begins, and my love for chivalry and honor. What makes you different from others?: The fact that I constantly want to help, and am usually never seen complaining, besides the fact I play a great amount of instruments, which is uncommon for a man of my size. Why should we accept you into the Order?: Because never in my life have I seen a cause so true, a cause so pure as this one. A cause to end all rascism, sexism, and overall the great evils in this realm. I wish to join so that when my name goes down in the history books, or maybe even my ballad sung by a bard, I want to be remembered as a honorable man, one who upheld honor and chivalry, and wished to put a end to all evils that so terribly plague this realm. What position do you wish to achieve in the Order?: Whatever position. I just wish to help in what I can. If I am promoted to a higher standard, then great, I get to help and influence even more people. Tell us more about yourself (Biography): Jon Wulfe is a kind and caring man, raised with thoughts of Chivalry and Honor by his caring and loving parents. He grew up with tales of knights and heroes of old who saved the realm countless times, and he himself aspired to be as great as them. He spoke, wrote and read in almost-perfect common tongue, and learned the elvish one as well, almost like a passtime. His father trained him avidly with a sword, shield, axe and bow to hone his fighting skills to the extreme. As a result, Jon was strong, kind, chivalrous, intelligent, and considered by many to be honorable, the way he always wanted it to be. His village burned down when he was 14. He was off climbing a great mountain, finding a golden rose, which in his village's tradition was to be given to the woman he loved. He did, in the end, give it to the woman he loved, but only as she lay dying in his arms, for his village was viciously attacked when he was gone. Though not all his fault, he blames himself for not being there, and when questioned about this event, he grows grim and solemn, very unlike the cheery man who is usually seen singing and playing on his lute. Several years after he departed his destroyed homeland, he was captured, rather forcefully I might add, by slavers, and sold as a gladiator in a far away land. Through much sacrifice and ultimate triumph, Jon emerged as the ultimate gladiator, not only ensuring his place on some later book or novel, but also winning his freedom. He departed, and at the age of 21 he reached Anthos, where he has lived for two years now, traveling to-and-fro from border to border, getting to know the land, making a name for himself as a honorable man, and overall trying to make a difference in this realm, which is so apparently violent, corrupt, and evil. I, Jon Wulfe, hereby pledge my skills and my life to the advancement and support of the Nieric Order. I swear my loyalty to the Order and swear on the blood of my brothers and sisters, to serve faithfully and never leave the Order until the day I take my last breath. I shall abide by all the laws of the Order. If I violate these terms, so help me God.

Jon Wulfe Nicknames: "Beardy" "Jonny" "Alpha" Age: 26 Gender: Male Race: Adunian Status: Single. Description Height: 6’7 Weight: 215 Body Type: Well-Muscled. Eyes: Icy Blue. Hair: A straight, sandy blonde. Skin: White, with a slightly tanned complexion. Markings/Tattoos: Several scars mark his upper right chest, remnants and memories of a time when Bolts and Arrows seemed to be his worse nightmare. A tattoo of a snarling wolf's head, half-circled in ancient runes, rests on one of his shoulders. Health: usually healthy, though sickness likes to sneak up on him whenever he isnt ready. Personality: He is regularly incredibly kind, and even jolly. He always seems like a simple, innocent kind of man, always willing to help others. He has an intense respect for the world of Honour and Chivalry, and has even adopted several of its basic codes. He is sometimes known to be blunt, for better or for worse, and an furiously curious man, meddling in the randomest of affairs. He is at times much to curious; It is probably due to this he is a wanderer. Inventory: Depending on the occasion, really. On a standard day-to-day, he can be seen with his trusty bastard sword, Wolfsclaw, and a Saxe knife. A sketchbook and some charcoal can also be found on him, along with a satchel full of food and several, randomized medical supplies. Further Details: He is loyal, and faithful. His stubborn attitude usually helps him accomplish the hardest of tasks, while his sometimes grim disposition has been known to cut right to the chase and solve a variety of situations with ease. Life Style Alignment*: Lawful Good, though has no set code. Deity*: Arke’ith Religion: The old faith. Alliance/Nation/Home: He lives and serves Adunia and her people. Job/Class: Knight, fighting. Title(s): Sir, Vice Marshall of Adunia. Profession(s): At the moment, he serves the adunian military in any way possible. As for employment, he has none, prefering to be known as a fighter above all. Special Skill(s): The arts of blacksmithing, sword-fighting, building, logging. For some strange reason lute-playing and cooking also made it to this list. Flaw(s): His grudges can run deep, years on end. He is a stubborn, strong-headed man, despite his loyalty and honorable disposition. He is saddened rather easily. Jon is also known to be incredibly gullible, and it is a well-known fact any woman with a smile can trick him into doing things. Weaponry Fighting Style: Defensive and patient, prefering enemies to come to him. In moments of rage though, he will not hesitate to raise his blade and charge, no matter the danger. It has usually been this which has led him to self-injury countless times. Trained Weapon:A number of swords, the axe, and the longbow. Ofcourse he also endevours in brawls, which have led him to have some sort of understanding of fist-fighting. Favored Weapon: The bastard sword. Archery: In a time of self-hatred and grief, Jon forsook his blade for the rather difficult-to-wield longbow. In time he became rather good at it. Eventually when his emotional storm cleared he returned to melee combat, but was left with a rather good understanding of the bow, and an overall respect for a weapon he thought of as dishonorable for so long. Biography Parents: Ulrich Wulfe, Luthien Wulfe. Siblings: Corbett Wulfe, Valerie Wulfe. Children: N/A. Extended Family: Scattered, really. Sometimes family pops up, it has been so since the times of Asulon. Pet(s): Muninn the Raven, a rather quirky bird with a fiery attitude. Apparently, him and Jon bicker about everything. History Jon Wulfe was born on a snowy night to Luthien, a fair elven bard who had wed to a rather strong, wandering Adunian man named Ulrich. Not much can be said about them, other than that his father had been selling his smithing wares in Malinor one day, and upon taking a break in the local tavern, fell for a beautiful elvish maiden, who seemed to have wooed the rather grim man with her voice. All that can be truly said was that theirs was a passionate romance, that ended in the birth of three children, Jon being the eldest of them. They lived in a small farm on the outskirts of Malinor, near the ice wall of the north and a bit aways from lenfarthing. It was a simple life, but a truly happy one, especially for Ulrich, who had fought all his life in defense of his home as a man-at-arms in the Adunian military. Jon had, since childhood, showed a keen interest in learning, and a passion for curiosity. His father and mother both appreciated this greatly in their son, though they couldn't offer him alot in terms of studies. He worked around the farm from an early age, granting him a knack for patience, a hard-working ethic and a rather good outlook on most tasks he set out to accomplish. At the age of ten his father saw him whacking away at wheat as if slicing down scores of skinny, swaying foes, and as such thought his son should learn the ways of a warrior. Ofcourse his father had been a man-at-arms, hardly the stuff of legend. But he taught him the basics over the years, training mostly with twigs and branches, too poor to afford a real teacher or any kind of equipment. He did show a acute sense of it over time, reacting quickly to most situations and showing how best to solve them. His mother once found him looking through random books, flipping the pages. When asked about it, he simply responded with: "Im lookin' fer the pretty pictures, mum." His mother couldnt help but smile to herself, and set off teaching his letters, and the proper forms of reading and writing. So to recap, over his teenage life he helped raise his siblings, helped his father around the farm and in the workshop, all the while learning the basic art of sword defense, and the typical offensive strike. His mother slowly taught him how to read and write, and though he never became quite as good as his elvish mother, he could succeed. Along with that, his mother also taught him the basics of playing the lute, which would serve him much later in life. When he reached the age of sixteen, Jon set out on his own journeys around Anthos, looking for ways to perfect his oh-so basic arts, and find his own path. Artwork http://th02.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2012/364/f/1/boromir_by_deligaris-d5po92u.jpg (I have a edited version of this, more fitting to my characters looks, but with no place to post it without copying this amazing artist's work, I decided to leave it be. Just imagine this character having green eyes and blonde hair.)

Given name(RP name): Jon Wulfe (Skype name if you have one): N/A True name(MC name): Azkott Race: Human (northerner) Authentic magic user?(accepted magic user?): Pure swordsman style warrior, disdains the use of magic but accepts and knows full and well the advantages of magic and its users. If so what form of magic ye use?: N/A Do ye seek adventure, knowledge, and companionship?: All, in reality. Mageshield,Delver or Apprentice(if other detail)?: Mageshield (seems about right) For Mageshields only: Do ye swear solemnly to put your life upon the line to perserve that of your arcane brethren? I do so solemnly sware. What combat skills have ye? I am a purely a swordsman. Magic is a unknown concept to me, and I don’t intend to learn. Short Response for all Applicants, write how ye would respond: You come across a massive ruin of ancient design, strange sounds and lights emanate from within. I would carefully investigate, descending ever so slowly and cautiously into the ruin. If what I find Is, for a fact, beyond my power, I would Return and call my fellow brethren to help me investigate. While at a local bar you see two dark hooded figures in the corner discussing in a whispered conversation. You can't quite make out what they're saying but you clearly hear the word "artifact". I would sit at a closer booth, hood up, drinking or eating thoughtfully, trying to listen into the conversation. Walking down the Anthos Highway you come across a masked man with a sword threatening a hooded figure, claiming he is a necromancer. The clear thing to do here, Necromancer or not, Is to disarm the situation in question. The man doing the threatening probably has no true right to be doing as such, and due to this I would send the Threat on its way, either he walks the highway, or He walks in the afterlife.

Minecraft Account Name: Azkott How old are you?: 15 Time-Zone: Central Time Zone Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Yes, I have. What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Several servers before this one. How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: On Planet Minecraft. Link any applications that you have previously made for the server: N/A Have you posted this application on the Minecraft Forum? If not, then please do so (link above): N/A Have you read the Human lore, and shall you ensure you make use of it and follow it in your biography?: Yes. Definitions In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!: Role-playing: The act of becoming someone else. Immersing yourself within a role, and then acting as your created character. Meta-gaming: The act of unrealistically rp-ing. Using the ooc malleably, usually by Asking for someone’s location, or revealing some kind of secret. Power-emoting: To make your character appear God-Like. Examples range from using the emotes to dodge a now-imminent blow, or like using it to pretend to fly. In-Character Information: Complete the following biography on your character: Full Name: Jon Wulfe Current Age: 23 Sub-race (if any): Northerner. Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): Jon Wulfe was the son of a mighty blacksmith, by the name of Ulrich. Many came to Ulrich for Arms and Armour; sometimes even dwarves. It was due to him that his once small, nameless village in the northernmost regions of Aegis got put on the map. It becamea place of great merriment; Travellers and weary warriors came from all around the kingdom of Oren to acquire a fine sword, or a fitting piece of mail. Humans to elves to even Dwarves came to Ulrich, and it was due to this that the small, once nameless village in which Jon grew up came to be known as Hammer’s stead. Jon lived a happy life, his mother Karolin and his father Ulrich loved him greatly, and it was due to this that he learned many a good thing. And while many lessons given to him in his childhood would stay with him for a long while, the one that left the most lasting impression was that of honor. He was a curious lad, and would often wander into the taverns and inns in which the aforementioned travelers would stay. Many a warrior told him tales; Tales of glory, adventure, danger, and even Romance. But the stories he most loved to listen to were those of honor. And from this love of honor, glory and adventure came his desire to wander the realm, doing many a good thing for the land. He was a young lad, maybe of about 16, when all of his dreams were torn apart. A orc raiding party came down on the village. They were many, and sought the hard-earned riches that the village had earned. A terrible battle was fought; On one side, were Orcs and their terrible wargs; on the other villagers of every kind, including the travelers, and the warriors. His father, coupled with a learned trick or two from the wanderers, had taught Jon many a thing about combat, and many had found him incredibly proficient with a sword. And it was these skills that would save his life. His father, as brave as a man could be, took up the great hammer that he shaped metal with, and went to reshape orc and warg head with it. He slew many, side-by-side with his son, but the Orcs proved to many. They staged a last ditch defense, His father and many others, in order to get all of the villagers out safely. The plan worked accordingly; The whole village, loaded with valuables and the like, escaped. Even Jon’s father escaped accordingly. But as Jon looked back upon his burning village, he swore, on his honor like he had heard his dad before, to never forgive, nor never forget what the Orcs had done, and swore bloody revenge. After settling his family in a appropriate village, Jon went away, to seek the glory and honor he so much craved. He took up a forest-green cloak and several items that his father and mother had gifted to him for his journeys. Among them was a journal, to write his accounts, several drawings, maps… And a sword. His father never told him, but it had taken him years to make that blade. He had begun designing it ever since he saw Jon “swordfighting” the other village boys with sticks. It was long, started slightly wider at the fuller, and sloping ever so gently, to allow good thrust and chopping moves. Its steel almost seemed to glow a dim blue. The crossguard was a steel bar gently curving upward, wrapped in twisted gold, almost appearing like tree roots. The hilt was long, definitely a hand-and-a-half, and was wrapped in good, light brown leather. The pommel was of a “scent-stopper” design, and was artfully crafted with ancient runes. It’s scabbard matched his forest-green cloak, and was too delicately carved with intricate patterns. After admiring it greatly, he sheathed it. He packed his light baggage, said farewell to his parents, and departed into the unknown. Ambitions for the Future: He intends to travel the known world and help all in need. He has no intention of permenantely settling down; but does not mind sleeping under the stars. Personality: He is brave, strong, and resilient. He is curious and inquisitive, and always quick of wit among friends. He is quite chivalrous, and is considered by many Honorable. Skills: His swordsmanship is quite advanced. Besides this he has inherited and learned the gift of working metal. Due to his extensive walking and hunting, he is a good tracker, and as such could make a ranger if he tried. Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin): He is tall, and fair of skin. He has blonde hair, cut at the end of the neck, He has a neatly-trimmed beard, and emerald-green eyes. Any other details you wish to share about your character: He is quite level-headed, though will lose it when seeing orcs. He is known into go into a blood-thirsty rage, one that only the closest of friends can stop. And though this has its uses, he could easily be overrun. He isn’t the most social of people; He prefers to keep to himself, and when frequenting a crowded inn or tavern, dons a hood to not get bothered. 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: First, I would Pursue the man in question. He wont get past the guards at the entrance, that’s for sure. As soon as he is in grabbing distance, I shout to the guards. If the man apparently panicks, I grab him, and send him on his way to the authorities, hood pulled back so everyone can see the face of the culprit. I then calmly walk away. 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: I would stealthfully make my way, using the treeline, towards the home, proceeding then to come out of the bushes, walk up to the cabin, and say “You giving this man a hard time?” Upon receiving a rude comment, they would either most-likely attack me, or I would give the first blow, ordering the man being harassed to stay inside. The fact that my sword is longer than most(longsword) helps me in this fight. I keep them at a safe distance, both in sight, and fight this battle patiently, and defensively, until I see my opening. Upon the killing of the foe, or their capture, I would inform the man of this, and tell him to stay safe. 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: Being a honorable man, I wouldn’t exactly go for a unfair, or unjust price. I see a nice dagger that draws my eye. “I’d like to make a offer on that piece right there.” After he picks it up, and hands it to me for examination, I offer him a price of, lets say, 15 gold coins. Now whether he takes it or leaves it, is his deal. If he refused, and tried to get more money out of me, I would raise to twenty, but no further. If he continued to try to haggle me, I would tell Him “I think I will take my business elsewhere.” And slowly walk away, seeing if he decides to give up the dagger or risk losing a sale.