Wakaton

Carlitos quickly looks over the letter Amber presented him, and nods as he sees that all the points have been accurately presented.

A man huddled in his wool cloak shivers as the winter cold creeps into his every being. Walking down the path, he eyes the stack of pamphlets sitting idle next to the shopkeeper's counter, and gestures for a copy. After reading it for a few minutes, he casts it onto the ground, muttering, "The real issue now is to decide when the power of the states end."

A man quickly notices the flyer attached to a notice board in his local area, and runs home to aquire pen and ink. By the end result, he attaches the note below the flyer, addressed as follows: Hello, I notice that you have several chickens in stock, and with the bird comes feathers. I am rather interested in purchasing this commodity and would be willing to negotiate for a price. Please send a bird to the local rookery attached with a letter addressed to a Damien Riechan ((Forum PM)), and from then on we will discuss business.

*Geoffrey Keston writes a small note on a piece of parchment, slight shivers shaking his body as the rain pelts upon his tunic. He then rips off a piece of stray string from his cloth shirt, tying it around the note and attaching it to the leg of a pigeon. Then he leans out onto the street to give the bird flight.

Out-Of-Character Information Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate. Minecraft Account Name: Wakaton How old are you?: 15 Time-Zone: GMT -4:00 Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Yes What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: I have roleplayed on servers in Grand Theft Auto SA, usually on a mod called MTA (Multi Theft Auto) How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: Google 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): ((Sorry! Can't place the application on the forums! Don't know why, help is appreciated, thanks!)) 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 ability to adorn a new personality, and to act as though you were that person to the best of your ability, also trying to be as realistic as possible. Meta-gaming: The use of OOC knowledge that you otherwise had no ability to obtain previously. Power-emoting: The forced Roleplays on other players, usually giving yourself an unfair advantage over most. In-Character Information: Complete the following biography on your character: Full Name: Damien Riechan (Ry-kin) Current Age: 23 Sub-race (if any): Human, Northerner (With Southron blood) Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): Damien was raised in a small village in the North of Oren, surrounded by the woods. His father had taken care of him from birth after his mother had left him, whom he was told was a Southron (No name was given). His father, as hard as he tried, wasn't able to take care of him all the time, so the majority of the time he was raised by a nanny who was to be addressed simply as Mam. She was a rather portly woman, large in figure and rounded as well, usually accompanied by her trademark wool cap and clothing. She was well known in the village for her knitting and boasted that she made all of her clothing herself, going as far as stating that her mother never allowed her to wear clothing that was knit by another, this policy stretching as far back as child-birth (She was covered in blankets in order to fight against the Northern weather). Mam was a phenomenal story-teller, entrancing Damien night after night with her tales of heroes and villains, tragedies and comedies. She spoke of tales King Godfrey I's conquests, King Edmund Sheffield's corruption, and of the legendary Teutonic Order. Mam even provided her own tutoring service, giving Damien basic lessons on arithmetic and language. Damien was usually an outcast to his peers due to his more Southron resemblance. He managed to make few friends, ones that were able to talk to him despite his differences. He was apprenticed to be a woodsman, but was not handled by his father due to the biased feelings that may surface during hours of training. During his free time he enjoyed to collect and tinker with things, though he was not exposed to a large array of items. The usual item he would find of interest would be an old pickaxe, or an irregularly shaped eating utensil. His most prized position was an old iron dirk, that was surprisingly spared of rust due to its burial in a worn leather pouch. He had found it under a stump that he had helped his master remove, cocooned for who knows how long by its roots. There was nothing unique about this item. The grip was plain oak stained to give it its dark appearance and had small intricate designs that told unknown tales. Its pommel was a simple iron ball, only slightly wider than the handle. The crossguard was also small in length, barely reaching the knuckle of his index finger. The blade itself was especially nothing to boast of. It was almost completely dull due the years of use by its previous owner. He was allowed to keep it due to his hard work that morning, and it was expected of him to actually sell it. Yet he found something else in the item other than monetary value; the fact that it belonged to him, and him alone. In between lessons with Mam and working for his master, he found time to perform daily maintenance on his prize with a whetstone, soon enough restoring it back to its razor-sharp potential. His life had been easy and simple, with no complications in sight, until the Raid. After escaping from his home and into the backwoods, he ran endlessly, fear coursing through his blood As he made his way out of the house the only items he had thought of carrying with him was his saxe knife and dirk, those two prizes the nearest to him at the time. Carrying it inside a small cloth bundle tied together with string, he rushed out the back door and into the woods surrounding his wooden home. As the sounds of killing gradually began to succumb to the distance and the day, his toe hooked into the root of a tree that poked out of the ground. He twisted at an odd angle as it was the exact moment he was about to turn, pain shooting up his leg as he collapsed. He immediately dropped the assortment of belongings onto the ground, camouflaging well with the undergrowth. Immediately his shout drew attention, and soon he was surrounded by three bandits, wolves who were coasting the woods for any stray sheep. Grasping at his ankle he looked above to the three, each with an ugly grin that showed a set of yellowed teeth. “Well now, who do we gut ‘ere? How sweet, he gone ‘n sprained his ankle fer us, just so he can’t run. Isn’t he considerable?” One of them let loose a laugh that scared the birds from the treetops. Another slowly placed one knee on the ground, in his hand a dagger that was quickly pressed against Damien’s throat. “We’ll just have to slit yer throat right ‘ere now don’ we? Yessir… Oh yes…” Before the villain could conduct such an act Damien shot his hand to his left, grasping the first thing that was within reach. His dirk. Damien’s original plan of trajectory was the man’s shoulder, but as he turned to address his companions the dirk buried its blade into his chest. He went wide-eyed, surprise dawning upon his face at first, soon followed by horror and realization. Collapsing onto the ground with subtle thud, the others immediately drew their swords and were prepared to cut him into pieces. A lone arrow that dug its way into one of their backs was the intervention that saved his life. Falling onto the ground, the last remaining bandit turned, wild as he desperately tried to work past his confusion. It overrided his primal instinct to run, and immediately that mistake was made obvious after another arrow was shot forward, finding home at his adam’s apple. A dark figure rushed forward to assist him up, offering his oak longbow as a cane. Damien nodded his gratitude, wishing to voice it as well until the stranger pressed a finger against his lips, the universal sign of silence. Several years later, Damien is dismissed from the hospitality of Juno Salck, the stranger who saved him that night. He was living for years in his lone cabin, learning basic skills such as how to sling a bow or how to skin an animal. He quickly recovered from his sprained ankle, regaining the ability to walk within the fortnight. But it was his mental health that over the years would take the most amount of time to heal. With the mountains of Hanseti only within a days walk, he set out upon the path, in order to finally find a place to call home. Ambitions for the Future: Engage in a career that would support him well enough. Live a humble and stable life. Personality: Kind and gentle, carefree but serious when the situation warrants it. Slightly nervous around large groups of people, and finds it hard not to fumble over words in a conversation. Skills: A woodsman. Novice knowledge of a bow and Average knowledge of a dirk. Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin): Covered in a leather tunic and cloth clothing. Leather boots and gloves. Me: Any other details you wish to share about your character: 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: Damien Riechen eyes the fellow for a moment, carefully examining his movements as the figure continues to approach the palace. As he sees that the person is attempting to overcome the gates, he would cup his hands around his mouth, emanating a shout from his lungs. The stranger would suddenly turn, realizing his plan was thwarted and would attempt to dart back into the shadows. Realizing this Damien would begin to pursue, only to find himself lost in the numerous alleyways that snake their way around the city. As he approaches the guards a sheepish grin adorns his face as he shrugs in confirmation that he lost the man. 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: Damien Riechen slowly makes his way to a nearby bush, carefully keeping his eye on the situation as it gradually unfolds before him. It soon becomes obvious that it’s a robbery, and that they have no intent on letting the old man live. He ponders his options, his forehead creasing with concentration. He comes to a conclusion that it would not rest on his conscience well enough if he was to simply leave the old man to his fate, and rises to his feet. Throwing a shout across the clearing, the guards turn to face him, each wondering why he was dumb enough to approach in the first place. Damien slowly drops his sword to the ground, his hands continued to be raised above his head as he surrenders immediately. He instructs the bandits that he has a large sum of minas inside his pocket, and he’s willing to spare them if they are willing to do the same with the old man’s life. Knowing that this is the best outcome of the situation with the minimal amount of bloodshed, they agree to the terms and grab hold of the small sack of coins, as well as Damien’s sword and armor. 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: Damien Riechen strolls towards the stall, making his presence obvious as he peers down the long line of wares. He gently scratches his chin as he thinks, nodding at the various levels of quality. A small leather bound book catches his eyes, and as he leafs through its dry pages he is met with stories and tales of phenomenal writing. As he sets the book down on the wooden table, he begins to speak with a tone of authority and purpose, but it soon begins to crack as his excitement eats away at his confidence. “H-Ehm, how much are you selling this book for?” The vendor would shrug, lifting his hand towards Damien as he awaits for an offer. “… Fifty minas?” Suddenly the small man would look appalled, as though he was offended by the remark. “Alright, alright… Seventy?” The small man scoffs, folding his arms and raising his chin briskly as he pouts. “O-Ok, please, I was just trying to find a reasonable price. I meant no offense! How about uh… Uhm…” Damien dips his hands into his pockets, withdrawing a small cloth pouch jingling with coins. He dumps them onto the table, counting them quietly to himself. “I have two hundred and seventy four minas, just take it all, really, I don’t mind” The small man gives him one last look, his eyes practically piercing through his soul. Nodding slowly, the vendor shovels the assortment of coins into his sleeve, and with a simple flick of the wrist he shows that now is the best time for Damien to depart. Awkwardly he picks up the book, first giving a quick nod that suddenly turned itself into a bow, then an attempt at a hand-shake. When all else failed, he ducked out of the situation, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment. With his eyes set forward, he didn’t notice the vendor’s wide grin that spread across his face, quickly diminished as the man regained his posture.