Auruphen

Side business.

Hello!

    Hello, my name is Grendor Builder, an a rather experienced architect. I am selling iron ingots, iron swords, battle axes, war hammers, and anything iron.

Prices

    Iron Chestplate--50 Minas

    Iron Leggings--   40 Minas

    Iron Helm--         20 Minas

    Iron Boots--        20 Minas

    Sword--  20 Minas

    Battle Axe and All Other Weapons--25 Minas

Any Custom Built Iron

If you would like, we will make armour for you for cheaper prices than the ones listed above. Just come by with the leather and we will do the rest.

Thank you, I hope to see you so!

((PM me in-game or on the forums at Naeyni or my colleague at kitmeister-(forum name-Mad_As_A_Hatter). Thanks!)) 

Out-Of-Character Information
Please
fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate.

Main Account Name: Naeyni
Alternate Account Name: No other accounts are under my possession.
How old are you?: 20
Time-Zone: My current time-zone is (GMT – 5:00)
Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: I have and agree to them fully.
What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Dungeons and Dragons is my primary experience to the role-play realm with the accompaniment of Elder Scrolls, and Live Action Role-Play.

Definitions
In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:

Role-playing:
Role-playing is a form of acting as a character to further portray an event in a particular setting, area, or story; including all of the character's traits, knowledge, and characteristics. Often examples of these types instances are in video games: W.o.W, L.O.L, Elder Scrolls, and Dungeons and Dragons—a tabletop fantasy role-playing
game—where you, take on the role of a particular character, changing your behaviour and assuming the role of a person, object, or being to act out or a fill a scene, event, or story-line.
 

Meta-gaming:
Meta-gaming is when you as an individual know particular information about someone, something, or somewhere that your character, you are role-playing as, would otherwise be oblivious to but knows the said information anyway, further benefiting your character in an unjustified, non-role-play accurate standard. An example would include knowing that the dungeon has been trapped without your character explicitly been given information within the game or story what-so-ever.

Power-emoting:
Power-emoting is an act of forcing a particular action upon another force or character without the other character having a chance to respond accordingly via emote—to portray emotion in a theoretical manner. An example or instance where this would be the case is saying: “Jon—your character that you are role-playing as—kills Jane.” This is obviously power emoting because there is not any evidence that there would be an opportunity for said Jane to respond accordingly, giving said Jon the appearance of power-emoting.

In-Character Information:
Complete the following biography on your character:

Full Name: Grendor Bilok Builder
Current Age: 309
Race: Elf
Sub-race (if any): High Elf
Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long):

    Grendor was a young boy in the lands of Malinor, studying with the school-men about the books and histories about the Realm. It was quite mature for his age and often enough, the adults, workers, and fellow children saw it as presumptuous and far beyond his years.. though he was not alone, for there were more students among his home that followed his lead and studied with the school-men after the hours of proper teaching.
    His childhood was quite dull in the sense of adventure or catastrophe. His parents raised him as a soft-spoken, intelligent young lad—not exclusive and selective--in the High Elven city of Lin'evaral. Their ambitions for his future were not met to the fullest, for he strayed to the path of arrogance and insolence—much like the
characteristics of High Elves. He travelled later from Malinor across the Realm; studying with the Monks among the Cloud Temple about teachings and ideas; along with one monk in particular teaching him about his very love for architecture.
    He travelled all around among the Great Anthos Highway to many racial homelands, observing the buildings in Abresi, the mines in Kal Azgoth, libraries of the great Cloud Temple; seeing every die, pillar, archway, plinth, and crack of the art that was built upon the natural foundations. He tried his hand at blacksmithing, farming, fishing, and fighting but never found them to sustain his hunger for true work, true art. Thus, he stuck to the life of a vagabond: viewing, attending events, weddings, ceremonies, and trades without learning any particular skills; sword craft, or even fighting. He was a very gently Elf and felt no need for the use of such skills and soon lost them entirely.
    Grendor often met ladies on his travels but never felt the desire to pay for their company. He was a kind, gentle man to them and simply left the city or town in which they lived to fulfil his deeper desire; to build. He took many jobs for low prices and produced quality work in the work of twenty men. He then continued
on, building small structures and learning all the way. The city he fancied more than Malinor was Abresi. Abresi was his second home and he grew to know many of the merchants and barkeeps about the city. The libraries welcomed him with warm embraces and many titles of the best books.

    He once travelled to the lands of the Orcs, San'Orka. It was a hot, dry, hell of a place and was not quite fond. He did, however, awe at the siege weapons they had built, the thrown together, simplicity of this race. He did try to make friends with the Orcs but was soon driven out by the tough, rough, cruel nature of the beasts. They did not like him particularly and did not find that he was a friendly figure; only there to steal their weapons and sabotage their home. Off he went from there to Leumalin—the capitol city of the Holy Princedom of Malinor, to small villages within the Elven lands. He grew tired of Elves at the time and wished to meet new people, new races, new cultures—very odd and unusual for the selective race that were High

Elves.

    And so he travelled further, huddling through the colds of Dwarves cities and then worked with many of the Humans in the Ildicia, a small castle town south-west of Ager that mainly specialized in logging. He grew particularly fond of this race and their characteristics. He went to Westport—a city far west of the Holy Oren Empire—and farmed for quite some time. The city was based on their military as much as farming and he soon left the city. He travelled to mainly Human cities and settlements from the capitol of the Renatus Kingdom of Abresi, to the “Industrial Capitol” of Oren, to Kingston—the capitol of the Kingdom of Salvus, even to the small peasant, farm village of Ager. They were proud people, as many races were, but they were kind, and open to different ideas. He worked with them for quite some time; farming, walking with caravans, and meeting the different people all about the Realm. He met a tailor once that stitched him decent clothing for an Elf of his particular class and has taken a great deal to care for them. A green under shirt and brown vest went well to compliment his brown trousers and tall, leather boots.

    He heard many stories about the far Northern lands that were icy and barren; savage and fierce monsters were heard to have inhabited the lands; Bohra creatures—a boar like race with similar characteristics of an Orc but with limited cognitive and language skills. He was intrigued but also terrified at the thought of such beasts living within the very Realm he called his home. Along with these stories were the Wilds—a land without many laws and guidelines. He felt that this place would keep him very frightened and paranoid at all times, seeing as he would fear for his life from bandits and raiders. Among these tales were the tales of Kharajyr—a race heard to be of a cat-like ancestry—and their exquisite poetry. He wanted to hopefully meet one of such a unique race and learn all there was about them.

    He sat with many men and ladies among the lands and have, despite his lack of interest for the church, attended many ceremonies. His race entirely never have seemed to have adopted the seemingly irrational idea of worshipping a deity of any kind, whether it be the Puritarianism god, Aeriel, or Seven Gods of the Brathmoredakin practises. They have always seen them as illogical and quite foolish.

    Grendor, among his journeys, has developed quite a fear and weakness. The fear being so powerful that he would rather split himself down the middle a thousand times than encounter the horrid beast. The mighty chicken frightens him so. He fears their stalking nature and their ability to dart around hastily with resting. They lack the appearance and ability to fly yet they somehow fall great distances without trouble. It frightens him more than anything and he mustn't ever come to contact with them no matter the cost, for he will turn into a beast among men, or a frightened pup broken down and helpless and without the guidance of the mother to help him overcome his night terror. It was hard for him as a child because his family and city would keep large flocks for food and reproduction to create more monsters to haunt him always.

Ambitions for the Future:
    Grendor's further ambitions for the future are to open a professional architecture and lock company in the city of Abresi and eventually meet a Kharajyr.

Personality:

    Grendor is a kind being at heart, as most Elves are but often lacks the ability to express the inner kindness in an external manner; his High Elven character being shown through this. Instead, he is arrogant in about his wit but sometimes finds that his intelligence level is far superior than that of his fighting ability and can cost him quite a thrashing. He is quite odd in the ways of Elves and is often mistaken otherwise as being a different race entirely; if the ears didn't expose his true heritage.

Skills:
Grendor is a fair baker of breads and wines but a better builder than most; but he fails to have acquired the patience and love for swordplay and brute fighting. He is limited, seemingly, but it does not deter him from his ambitions in the very least. Though he lacks the capability to fight physically, he does possess the power to win in many mental stimulation, though he is not the best, by any means and has found himself unfortunately humiliated by tricky merchants and sketchy bandits.

Appearance (this must include an in-game screen-shot of your skin):
    Grendor is a tall, thin Elf, but still has strength from building and climbing in the trees of Malinor. His long, dark hair, not terribly unusual for his culture, drops down as it is loosely tied back in front of his bright blue eyes; they seem to glow against his pale skin that contains a very subtle, gentle hue of gold that is exclusive to the High Elf heritage. His face is smooth and without fault and tends to his appearance constantly. He has acquired a fair wardrobe of quality stitched clothing by various tailors about Anthos and takes a great deal of time to care for their well being and quality. His eyes are a lighter shade of blue, showing that he is still very young and has much to learn in the ways of the Realm from wiser beings and Elders. He is very diligent upon keeping his appearance impeccable and pronounced. He looks down on many physical enhancements or invasive jewellery such as many piercings and tattoos. He does, however, have two ear rings that hang, small and pretty, on the lobe of his long, sharp ears.

Any other details you wish to share about your character: 

    Other than my account being in the class of Gold V.I.P—I have payed fully and legitimately, I can assure you the 50 USD; all I would like is the proper title. 

Thank you for your reading and consideration.

Out-Of-Character Information
Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate.

Main Account Name: Naeyni
Alternate Account Name: No other accounts are under my possession.
How old are you?: 20
Time-Zone: My current time-zone is (GMT – 5:00)
Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: I have and agree to them fully.
What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Dungeons and Dragons is my primary experience to the role-play realm.

Definitions
In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:

Role-playing: Role-playing is a form of acting as a character to further portray an event in a particular setting or area; including all of the character's traits, knowledge, and characteristics.

Meta-gaming: Meta-gaming is whenever you (OOC) know information or thoughts to which your character would otherwise be oblivious.

Power-emoting: Power-emoting is forcing an action upon another element without giving the receiving being an option or opportunity to respond, to the said action, with a defense or counter-response.

In-Character Information:
Complete the following biography on your character:

Full Name: Grendor Bilok Builder
Current Age: 309
Race: Elf
Sub-race (if any): None
Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long):
    Grendor was a young boy in the lands of Malinor, studying with the Elders about the philosophies and ideas about the Realm. It was quite mature for his age and often enough, the adults, workers, and fellow children saw it as presumptuous and far beyond his years.
    His childhood was quite dull in the sense of adventure or catastrophe. His parents raised him as a soft-spoken, intelligent young lad. Their ambitions for his future were not met to the fullest, for he strayed to the path of arrogance and insolence. He traveled later from Malinor across the Realm; studying with the Monks among the Cloud Temple about the cultures, the thoughts, and one monk in particular taught him about his very love for architecture.
    He traveled all around, observing the buildings, castles, libraries; seeing every die, pillar, archway, plinth, and crack of the art that was built upon the natural foundations. He tried his hand at black-smithing, farming, fishing, and fighting but never found them to sustain his hunger for true work, true art. Thus, he stuck to the life of a vagabond: viewing, attending events, weddings, ceremonies, and trades.
    Grendor often met ladies on his travels but never felt the desire to pay for their company. He was a kind, gentle man to them and simply left the city or town in which they lived to fulfill his deeper desire; to build. He took many jobs for low prices and produced quality work in the work of twenty men. He then continued on, building small structures and learning all the way. The city he fancied more than Malinor was Abresi. Abresi was his second home and he grew to know many of the merchants and barkeeps about the city. The libraries welcomed him with warm embraces and many titles of the best books.
Ambitions for the Future:
    Grendor's further ambitions for the future are to open a professional architecture and lock company in the city of Abresi.
Personality:
    Grendor is a kind being at heart, as most Elves are but often lacks the ability to express the inner kindness in an external manner. Instead, he is arrogant in about his wit but sometimes finds that his intelligence level is far superior than that of his fighting ability and can cost him quite a thrashing. He is quite ***** in the ways of Elves and is often mistaken otherwise as being a different race entirely; if the ears didn't expose his true heritage.
Skills: Grendor is a fair baker of breads and wines but a better builder than most, but he fails to have acquired the patience and love for swordplay and brute fighting.
Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin):

    Grendor is a tall, thin Elf, but still has strength from building and climbing in the trees of Malinor. His long, dark hair, very unusual for his culture, drops down as it is loosely tied back in front of his bright blue eyes; they seem to glow against his pale skin. His face is smooth and without fault. He has acquired a wardrobe of nicely sewn clothing and cloaks along his travels that he keeps tidy and clean.
Any other details you wish to share about your character:
    None other than that stated above. Thank you for your reading and consideration.

Out-Of-Character Information
Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate.

Main Account Name: Naeyni
Alternate Account Name: No other accounts are under my possession.
How old are you?: 20
Time-Zone: My current time-zone is GMT/UTC + 00:00 hour
Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: I have and agree to them fully.
What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Dungeons and Dragons is my primary experience to the role-play realm.

Definitions
In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:

Role-playing: Role-playing is a form of acting as another character to further portray an event or story.
Meta-gaming: Meta-gaming is using out-of-character knowledge that your character would otherwise be oblivious in a particular setting.
Power-emoting: Power-emoting is forcing an action upon another element without giving the receiving being an option to respond to the said action.

In-Character Information:
Complete the following biography on your character:

Full Name: Grendor Bilok Builder
Current Age: 309
Race: Elf
Sub-race (if any): High Elf
Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long):
    Grendor was a young boy in the lands of Malinor, studying with the Elders about the philosophies and ideas about the Realm. It was quite mature for his age and often enough, the adults, workers, and fellow children saw it as presumptuous and far beyond his years.
    His childhood was quite dull in the sense of adventure or catastrophe. His parents raised him as a soft-spoken, intelligent young lad. Their ambitions for his future were not met to the fullest, for he strayed to the path of arrogance and insolence. He traveled later from Malinor across the Realm; studying with the Monks among the Cloud Temple about the cultures, the thoughts, and one monk in particular taught him about his very love for architecture.
    He traveled all around, observing the buildings, castles, libraries; seeing every die, pillar, archway, plinth, and crack of the art that was built upon the natural foundations. He tried his hand at black-smithing, farming, fishing, and fighting but never found them to sustain his hunger for true work, true art. Thus, he stuck to the life of a vagabond: viewing, attending events, weddings, ceremonies, and trades.
    Grendor often met ladies on his travels but never felt the desire to pay for their company. He was a kind, gentle man to them and simply left the city or town in which they lived to fulfill his deeper desire; to build. He took many jobs for low prices and produced quality work in the work of twenty men. He then continued on, building small structures and learning all the way. The city he fancied more than Malinor was Abresi. Abresi was his second home and he grew to know many of the merchants and barkeeps about the city. The libraries welcomed him with warm embraces and many titles of the best books.
Ambitions for the Future:
    Grendor's further ambitions for the future are to open a professional architecture and lock company in the city of Abresi.
Personality:
    Grendor is a kind being at heart, as most Elves are but often lacks the ability to express the inner kindness in an external manner. Instead, he is arrogant in about his wit but sometimes finds that his intelligence level is far superior than his fighting ability and can cost him quite a thrashing.
Skills: Grendor is a fair baker of breads and wines but a better builder than most, but he fails to have acquired the patience and love for swordplay and brute fighting.
Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin):

    Grendor is a tall, thin Elf, but still has strength from building and climbing in the trees of Malinor. His long, dark hair, very unusual for his culture, drops down as it is loosely tied back in front of his bright blue eyes. They seem to glow against his pale skin that also seems to lack the gentle hue that many High Elves have. His face is smooth and without fault. He has acquired a wardrobe of nicely sewn clothing and cloaks along his travels that he keeps tidy and clean.
Any other details you wish to share about your character:
    None other than that stated above. Thank you for your reading and consideration.

The Heroes Hollow Tavern and Inn, now open and home of the first ever Quest Centre and Tea Counter! We sell warm foods, strong brews, and a friendly atmosphere for all! The prices are decent and well worth the while, I can assure you. Try our signature Rot-Gut Ale and test your mettle to the maximum potential!

    We also offer warm rooms for your weary treks across the Realm or simply have a seat by the fire. You can also equip yourself with our fine tools and supplies so you may continue across the Realm as a strong and courageous adventurer!

    This establishment is loved by most who enter the warm structure and has gotten many praises in its short life. The building is beautifully decorated with fine wood-work yet having a quaint, subtle feel that gives a comfortable feeling to all.

    Maintaining such an atmosphere can be tricky at times and we have had a few quarrels concerning criminal behaviour. We would like to point out that no criminal activity is tolerated and shall be punished by the law enforcers. We hope that this is not the case, of course, but will be brought to the Officials' attention if need be.

     We would like to also state that there is to be no tolerance for fighting within the establishment, even if it is concerning the law. It is not difficult to take the fight out of the doors and finish it there, but please to not ruin our fine building with cuts, blood, and a fowl atmosphere

I. No Fighting Within the Establishment

II.No Excessive Crowding of the First Floor

III.All Payments for Any Products Are to Be Made First

IV.  No Harassment 

Now that we have the mess out of the way, we may now continue on with the more attractive features of this wonderful establishment! The menu; a key element that will supply you with all necessary information on each product we are selling.

ANNOUNCEMENTS

~We have recently developed a new mead called Faerie Dark

~The Quest Centre is now open an all who wish to perform quests are

welcome. All who wish to post quests are welcome as well! Simply speak to

one of our employees about posting the quest and you may have an

adventurer perform jobs and assignments you have given, including the less accepted quests. . .

~No fighting within the establishment

*As you are walking, you come across a neatly written, somewhat town poster*

We require a blade of strength only provided by the strongest of iron. We, with our Elven fears, can not travel the distance nor perform the main task at hand, unfortunately.

    The quest we have, should you choose to accept, is for you to craft an iron blade and bring it to us. We will examine the blade and see if it is worthy for the main task that shall be given. Once the blade is properly crafted and brought to us for examination, you are to travel to San'Orka with the blade, never using it for combat or unsheathing.

    Once there, you must find the Orcish Temple carved into the base of the cliff near the water's edge. Inside there is a spring of blessed waters of the Orcs. Bathe the blade in the waters and return it to us.

    Your rewards for this quest is a bottle of our finest ale ((It does have positive effects unlike our rot-gut ale)), a full meal: three bread loaves, mushroom stew, a baked potato, and three carrots, five day's stay in a room of your choice in our Inn ((complimentary)), you may use the five days non-consecutively if you wish to, and 25 Minas.

OOC Information, Read or you won't get the quest: To begin the quest, you must talk to Grendor Builder ((Naeyni)), Tom Builder ((kitmeister)), Bister Nomlan ((waycoolerthanyou)), or Sirus Comstock ((ChaseC_Holden))

    You must take a screenshot of you crafting the iron sword and of you in the Orc Temple, the sword must not have any life taken from it on return from crafting or San'Orka, Send the screenshots to any of the above people when you complete each section, making the sword and blessing it.

    Please do the quest legitimately, the goal is to have a fun, solid, RP experience. 

My party and I have recently built a Tavern in Abresi! It is a nice Tavern with some rot-gut ale, some rooms, and some very fine food with a warm fire. If you would like to stop by the Heroes Hollow and rest for the night in one of our nice rooms, you are more than welcome!
   Now, this is all great and well but this Tavern also doubles as a Quest Centre! That's right, folks, we are now writing quests for players to complete with Mina rewards, item rewards, discounted prices on food and drinks along with rooms! The beginning quests will be simple but as you work your way up, the quests will require more and pay more!

    Come by the Heroes Hollow Tavern and Inn as soon as you want! The fire is warm and the seats are free!

   Our first quest will be a test and may include tweeks and fixes due to being the first issued quest. Please, if you complete it, if you have any problems or complaints, please feel free to provide constructive criticism  Please don't spam the the post with endless complaints, just brief suggestions and we will do our best to make it better! ^_^

To be clear, this is lore for a skull Grendor often talks to and says talks back to him. A good first try Grendor.

. . .Mmmmhmmm. . .

Philips is sad to hear you say such wretched things about him.

Philips is a figure, an icon, a strange skull at that. He often talks to Grendor as a friend, an enemy, a frustrated spirit. Grendor, so immersed in his work and skill level as an architect has never had the Social Skill level of that of a Jester or even a peasant. He is often seen as a fool, a hound, a genius too real for his own self good. Many have strayed far to keep from him but others, the more adventurous goers, the ones that had given him the opportunity to reveal a somewhat delightful side to his otherwise repulsive personality have accepted him an his ways into their very own life. The first, more by force than by self choice, was Philips.

   Philips was once a Clay-Maker. He was just above the average man in his craft but far from the best. He worked often for the King, in his older years, and had seen many of them fall and rise. He had watched the Kings grow mad, become heroes, or rise to the Thrones only to be destroyed by the very foundation on which they built. He was a quiet old man, physically younger for his years and never seemed to grow past the age of sixty-three;  he wore the facial blemishes of an old man, but the muscle strength and qualities of a younger. He was wise, being the age far past one-hundred, and had learned a lot.

   Philips lived in a small monastery just outside the Capitol and lived among the Monks. He attended the prayers and services but had different feelings and beliefs towards blindly following a being never to be seen. None-the-less, he was fond of them as they to him. He lived apart from the rest of the Monks: he did not like the idea of sharing a room with twenty other men and felt he would desire privacy at some moments. So, to appeal to the requests of the old Clay-Maker, the Monks cleared out the Courier House that they stored all of the letters send to the Capitol or other larger towns surrounding. He liked the small home and made it his own by setting up small figurines of clay: children, horses, families, pipes, and other tinkers he would create in times when he was not employed.

   Philips traveled a lot, being the created of fine pottery and other decor, and had once come across a man with a strange vial of a clear substance. The man said that it would animate anything smaller than a hand and nothing more. The Clay-Maker was thrilled at the idea of his wonderful little community of clay being able to interact with him; as if they were his own family.

    He then returned to his home with the vial of Animant and was eager to try it on his friends. He pored the Animant over one of the boys: one with knightly clothing and a small wooden sword with detailed, fine runes embedded in the clay sword. The boy ran and jumped around and attacked the other clay figures. The Clay-Maker immediately took the boy and punished him by dipping him in small goblet with wine inside. The boy became motionless and looked as though the life in him had been drained to the very last remains, never to be seen again. The Clay-Maker grew sad at the result and set the boy down, gently.

   After a while Philips just loathed around his small home and say by the hearth, away from the Monks and the cold Winter air. He took the goblet and pored the whole thing into his mouth and swallowed with disgust as the wine tasted very sickly and gross. He stumbled around and walked out of the home into the white abyss, blinded by the brightness of the snow. He marched on, going to a place he had not known and walked for days and days until his body had reached exhaustion. He collapsed onto the ground and bowed his head. He spoke a small prayer he remembered and fell onto the soft, glistening snow.

     Years had passed and Philips lay there, motionless yet somewhat alive. His body had long gone except for one: a round, grey, perfectly shaped skull that had seemed to frown somehow but lacked the capability for facial expression. It lay there, frowning at the trees and animals, seeing through the charade of life and witnessing the truth of all.

Grendor had been treking across the lands, searching for Schoolmen to learn the teachings of Architecture and mathematics only taught by few in the Realm. He had come across Philips while smoking his long, dark wooden pipe. He took the skull and thought it a beauty, perfectly shaped and a warm grey tone seemed to radiate from the figure. He stuffed it into his bag and continued on, smoking his pipe.

   Days after he had come across the skull and had forgotten it had been in his bag, whispers came from the skull: insults to Grendor, compliments on the writings that lay within his bag, and other speakings that were quite unpleasant. Grendor removed the skull and held it in his hands, listening to the whispers. He whispered back insults about him lacking a body or attractive features and the skull shouted back at him indescribable things. Grendor tossed the skull into the woods and looked back in his back for a journal. He often felt it soothing to write about his adventures for not many would listen.

    He took the journal and began writing. As he had finally come to the conclusion of his entry, an old, dusty voice came from within his bag asking to read the writing.

   "I want to know what you are saying about me so that it may be a heroic tale of the Great Clay-Maker Philips!"

Grendor reached into his bag as he set his book down on a log and found that the skull lay there, looking back with a frown.

    "How are you hear?" he asked as he took the skull from the bag. "I threw you into the forest, yet here you are, spouting out nonesense about your great, mystical powers as a dirty bone of a man that played with clay."

   "Why are you so relaxed about conversing with bone? Are you a daft, do you not have the brains of a small child?" the Skull said, snapping his jaw around.

   "You sure are a mean little head," Grendor replied as he dropped the skull next to the book. "How can you see, anyway? You haven't got any eyes."

   "Magyk?" the Skull said, trying to move closer to the words that lay on the page. "How am I talking and alive? How could I possibly be here if I don't even have shoulders? What else could it possibly be? I was just an Old Clay-Maker; a damn good one at that. I drank some nasty wine and here I am, talking to a daft."

   "So, you are a magykal Wizard that took the form of a skull?" Grendor asked.

   "Yes, Boy, I am a great and powerful Wizard that can only be summoned by the blessings of women and wine!"

The Skull read the entry and sighed.

   "You don't even know my own name. Isn't it obvious? I shouted the Great and Powerful Philips! How could you not gather at least that much information?" the Skull said, mockingly.

  "All right, Great and Powerful Wizard. Your name is Philips, mine is Grendor H'ghar-Builder!" he said, proud of the name.

  "Is that a relation to Tom Builder II? Are you his daft son?"

   "No, it was given to me by my father, a stone mason."

    "He must have made the prettiest rocks in all the land," Philips said as he tried to hop around.

   "Yes, he did. He also had arms, legs, wine, and a beautiful wife, living a happy life with an entire body and never resorted to talking to daft young Elves," Grendor said, frustrated as he shoved Philips deeply into the bag and continued through the thick forest.

"These fictions are quite sad. You call yourselves proud people and a grand army but you are just the opposite. You lack the discipline and diplomacy to handle such situations in an orderly manner. You act as though you are children, failing to receive something never promised. I am sad to be forced to share the Realm with such foolishness and wrong ways."

 Grendor steps forward with a stone face filled with anger and sadness at the sight of his work of dedication and architectural art demolished and torn down.

    "God damned f*cking Dwarves. I hate them, they shall die in an eternal Hell of temptation and desire only to be set there, grasping at the small essence of life to live forever. They shall be tortured until their hearts and bones ache of weariness and seal over the pain. Then, and only then, they may halt in torture. When they have grown soft again, we continue to destroy them, break them, and decimate their existence until there is nothing left of them but stories of their treachery, despair, and misery to the Realm!"

    Grendor bows his head and says in a deep voice that echos throughout the hall: "They shall ruin."

**Flyers are seen throughout the land, written in quality ink and nailed to walls and trees**

"Hello, I am Grendor H'ghar-Builder and I am here to help with all of your building needs and wants. I am fully capable of building any structure you suggest with full satisfaction. I will build with the lowest prices around and you will not regret hiring me as your primary builder in the Realm!
   I am currently stationed at the Greyndor Citadel in the City of Kastoria as well as the Grey-Tower Architecture Co. Building just above Sofetios's Book Store in the Mighty Human Capitol, Abresi. Please, come one, come all and stay safe in your travels.

   If you would like to hire me, send a bird to me, personally ((Naeyni))

or leave a letter in the mailbox outside the building

The Greytower Co. Building in Abresi, built by Grendor H'ghar-Builder

I hope you consider this offer and hire me in the fortnight; I will not fail you!"

"Thank you, Bod. You have always been a cooperative mate and I shall show my thanks by building you the best damn Den you've ever seen!"

Chapter I

An owl sat perched upon a, iron bar in the window sleeping. The cool Winter breeze floated in slowly and ran across his bare torso. His pale, light blue skin tensed ever so slightly at the coolness from the air and he began to open his eyes; they were a light shade of blue, similar to his skin and were large. They angled upward, slightly and came to a point towards the outside of his face. His long, pointed noze sniffled and moved his perfectly shaped mouth. His ears poked through his hair and the points were hidden by the fur on which he was sleeping. His blue ear rings dangled freely from the small earlobes and shivered in the breeze.

    He sat up and pulled a fur over his legs as he pushed his bright hair out of his face. He looked over at the black owl, sleeping, hinted at a smile but then frowned. He turned his head to find the round, wooden door wide open. His feet touched the cold stone floor and he retreated back to the warmth of his bed. He wrapped some cloth around his feet and pushed out of the bed, the fur now over his shoulders. As he approached his clothes on the stool by the door, he heard the sound of a lute playing downstairs along with the quaint, soft voice of a woman. Quickly getting dressed into a dirty grey shirt, brown hosen and tall leather boots he turned to the mirror to find a large, red scratch running from his hair line to the adjacent jaw; he frowned again and continued down the wooden stairs.

   The music grew louder as he walked down and found a young man with a flute sitting on a stool accompanied by four slightly older women standing by the hearth, snickering and smiling. The lute was a bright brown, rounded, and had fifteen strings with fingers moving along with ease and grace, creating face paced, rhythmical dances for the women. The man began to sing.

Here awakens the old Elf Grendor

Waiting for a woman to knock on his door

He never knows quite what to do

But I can assure you , she won't chose you!

The young lute player laughed along with the women as Grendor shoved past them, knocking two of the woman onto the fur carpet and the lute player directly to the stone floor. They all laughed in an uproar of life, except Grendor, who simply kept the same frown and tilted eyebrows, looking past everything through his bright, grey hair.

    Grendor walked out of the wooden front door into the muddy road with the occasional stone patchwork done by the stone mason; the same who had built many of the homes in the Eastern District. Stone homes were signs of large wealth for most of them were pieced together by wood or clay. Though, this never made Grendor satisfied or pleased.

   he continued down the road, bustling with people, merchant's voices in the air, and the cool wind blowing against his Grendor's back, begging him not to go to the Keep.

Sealed Note Library  and Book Keeping

I thought it very intriguing and thank you, very much, for the character sheet template.

People of the Realm,

Hello, my name is Grendor H'ghar-Builder. I have recently been asked to construct the Nieric Citadel for my skill and precise appreciation for detail. I have been working vigorously and have made much progress. However, as I work further, I run lower and lower on my material and supplies. I have been collecting the majority of it myself, but I fear I will never finish properly if I continue to do so. I am the only one constructing the establishment and have little time to gather materials and build at the very same moments.

    What I request is donations to the Order. Kind hearted people of Anthos come together to help a protective order excel their growth to further protect the Realm from the harsh elements of darkness. Please, the Citadel is quite grand in its current state of being, yet, it could be more, so much more. I simply request any building material you have to spare this Elven Architect to help better the realm with a beautiful, magnificent structure to house the prime protectors of the Realm.

    If you have any doubt in whether what I am telling you is a fiction or not, please, do take the journey to Kastoria where the Grand Citadel is being constructed. You may then see what your donation is making and helping greatly.

   Donations have no limit and may exceed the space we have available. Travel to the City of Kastoria and donate your much needed supplies at the Greyndor Citadel, or better known as the Nieric Citadel.

Red Shield Postal Service

I may move it there as well; simply spread the request all about.

People of the Realm,

Hello, my name is Grendor H'ghar-Builder. I have recently been asked to construct the Nieric Citadel for my skill and precise appreciation for detail. I have been working vigorously and have made much progress. However, as I work further, I run lower and lower on my material and supplies. I have been collecting the majority of it myself, but I fear I will never finish properly if I continue to do so. I am the only one constructing the establishment and have little time to gather materials and build at the very same moments.

    What I request is donations to the Order. Kind hearted people of Anthos come together to help a protective order excel their growth to further protect the Realm from the harsh elements of darkness. Please, the Citadel is quite grand in its current state of being, yet, it could be more, so much more. I simply request any building material you have to spare this Elven Architect to help better the realm with a beautiful, magnificent structure to house the prime protectors of the Realm.

    If you have any doubt in whether what I am telling you is a fiction or not, please, do take the journey to Kastoria where the Grand Citadel is being constructed. You may then see what your donation is making and helping greatly.

   Donations have no limit and may exceed the space we have available. Travel to the City of Kastoria and donate your much needed supplies at the Greyndor Citadel, or better known as the Nieric Citadel.

Red Shield Postal Service

[b]Out-Of-Character Information[/b]
Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate.

Minecraft Account Name: kitmeister
How old are you?: 28
Time-Zone: UTC/GMT -6 hours (US &Canada)

Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: I have.
What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: My primary experience is in Dungeons and Dragons, Savage Worlds, and LARP.
How did you hear about the the Lord of the Craft?: I have a friend who recommended it to me and I found it very intriguing.
Link any applications that you have previously made for the server: I have not made any so far.
Have you posted this application on the Minecraft Forum? If not, then please do so (link above): Yes
Have you read the Elven lore, and shall you ensure you make use of it and follow it in your biography?: I have and will.

Definitions
In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!:

Role-playing: Role-playing is a form of act in which you pretend to play a character and all its traits in the desired setting.
Meta-gaming: meta-gaming is when you (as the OOC) know something that your character shouldn't or wouldn't.
Power-emoting: Power-emoting is when you force an action upon a certain person or object without giving it a chance to respond or defend.

In-Character Information:
Complete the following biography on your character:

Full Name: Tom Builder
Current Age: 109
Sub-race (if any): High Elf
Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): Tom was a young boy with a quiet nature and an attitude filled with kindness when not bothered. He was often seen as an ill boy: his dark hair and green eyes were uncommon among his community and he lacked the free, flamboyant nature of his companions. He was often seen as wise beyond his years, as most Elves were, but this young Elf was more so. He saw things exactly as they were and was not hesitant to correct a fiction when spoken. Many people saw this as a flaw and discredited him among the Elves of Malinor and eventually drove him from his very home.

   As he traveled many days and nights, encountering Mountain Dwarves, Southerners, other Wood Elves, and Halflings, he grew fond of the Human race--the Northerners in particular.. He eventually found a man among the city of Solace and grew fond of his wife and him. They accepted him as one of their own and lived in a small home on a near a wheat farm. The man, Petre, asked Tom his name and he failed to recall; the long travels from his home and the small amount of conversation left his name in a dull memory. Petre then offered a various assortment of names: suitable for an Elf, but could not conjure enough creativity to do so. After a short while Petre settled on "Tom." Tom liked it a lot and found that that was the name of a successful builder long ago. He chose the name gratefully wore it with pride.

    The farm lasted for a very short time and lacked the population of customers to be worth enough to maintain. They then sold the farm and home and traveled across the realm, trying different skills: mining, baking, fishing, and blacksmithing. Tom never had the patience or ambition for any of these small tasks; he wanted more; he wanted to read and learn about the schoolman and their teachings. Petre died one day while helping a rancher with his cattle and devastated Tom. He was the one man that saw light in the dark nature of the Elf and now, their was no one to understand. Tom left Petre's wife with love and sorrow and returned to the life of a vagabond.

   He walked the city streets of Salvus and returned once again to Malinor. He was no different than when he had left many years ago, but it had seemed as though his birth-home had refused to notice his existence among the Realm. This angered him and drove him East to Arethor, the city capitol of Salvus. He admired the architecture and began to study it intensely on the streets as well as the library within the massive city. He studied constantly: trying to acquire permission to examine supports, walls, buttresses, plinths, pillars, and even small merchant shops. He then explored on and continued his passion, to fill the hole in his small heart that was coated in denial and wit.

Ambitions for the Future: Toms ambitions include learning the teachings of the Monks and becoming an architect.
Personality: Tom's personality is quiet, cool, but intense and powerful in the presence of the young Elf; one that is only found in wise, old men that have seen many wars, many falls, and rises of kingdoms.
Skills: Tom's skills include precise, detailed work with stone and architecture design. He is intelligent, but lacks the ability, physically, to ensure dominance over his opponents. He is determined and devoted to his work and never stops until the smallest fragment of stone is in proper placement. This, however, has hindered his ability to speak, commonly, with the people and often is shunned and denied admittance to many places.
Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin):
Any other details you wish to share about your character: Tom is tall, common among his race, long dark hair, and dark green eyes. He is thin and does not posses much strength in his body for he never felt the need to become muscular. he is flexible and a fair climber. He wears a green tunic under leather pauldrons given to him by Petre. He carries a Mason's Hammer with him at all times as a weapon. The hammer caught his eye at a smithy and after two days of circling the smithy, the blacksmith threw the hammer to him in the muddy road and told him to leave before the next hammer comes a little higher. His boots are worn down and tall; the ideal travel footwear given to him by a merchant who had a son too small for the boots himself. He took them with pleasure and has worn them since.

    Tom's face is sharp and acute. It lacks any facial blemish and is soft, yet strong and powerful. He ears peek from his long hair and wear blue ear rings, given to him when he was a newborn--a custom of his people. His skin is pale white, like most High Elves, but never seemed to have the gentle golden hue, for he was not of a distinct heritage nor knew his parents all that well.

[b]Open-Response-Questions[/b]
[i]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.[/i]
____

[b]1. As you walk through the deep forests you hear the sound of whispering and snickering. Upon inspection you realize that a group of older elves are mocking a small elven child. How do you react?[/b]

Answer: As Tom was walking in the forests of Malinor, he overheard snickering and laughter. He looked over to find that a group of Elves was taunting and mocking a small child. He walked over, gracefully, and took the small child from the ground. The other Elves shouted in protest and circled Tom. They teased him and the boy with names and jokes, trying to taunt the older Elf. He was not amused and his stone face quieted the boys with haste and, as they gathered back together, their faces to the ground, he walked past in mockery and asked the boy wear he lived.

   They walked on until they reached a small hut. He walked in and a weeping mother snatched the boy from Tom's arms and pushed him out, shouting and ranting in Elven. Tom stood tall and gathered himself and apologized for taking the boy from the mockery of older Elves. He promised to never perform such a treachery again. The mother immediately stood in regret as Tom walked away. She begged him to return for an apology but Tom continued his journey onward.

[b]2. Whilst wandering through the Elven forests you come across a frail old man with a walking stick. He collapses in front of you, falling to the ground with a sharp thud. Out of his pocket falls a small pouch of gold coins, which hits the ground and splits open spreading coins across the pathway. The man lies there, defenseless - what do you do?[/b]

Answer:  As Tom was walking the path to Malinor, an old man with a can fell to his knees and collapsed upon the ground. His breathing was light and his coin purse had spilled across the path with glittering pieces of gold rolling about. Tom dropped to his knees and picked up the old man. He asked him, worried, if he is still alive. The old man replied in a hushed voice and Tom lay the Old Man down upon the ground on his back. He collected the gold coins and put them neatly in his own pouch. He took the old man and carried his light body to Malinor.

   As the Old Man was tended to and cared for, more than probably necessary, Tom stood over him. The Old Man thanked him in a raspy voice. Tom replied by taking his coin purse from his picket and gently placing it back into the Old Man's robes and left the Man. 

[b]3. Whilst traversing the Elven Woodlands, you come across a small clearing in which a colored carriage sits. A trader stands outside of it and calls you over, telling you of his wares. He points out that his carriage sells just about everything, and that he's willing for you to haggle for a price. What does your character do? (Please include:- item, haggling for prices and the discussion involved).

Answer: As Tom walked along the wide road of the Elven Woodlands, he overheard a trader's voice hailing him over. Tom reluctantly responded by coming over slowly. Tom looked over the items the trader had to offer: bread, fish, cloth, linen, silk, daggers, seeds, axes.

"I have all of the essentials for any man or woman looking for high quality items for the lowest prices in the Realm, my friend!" the Trader said to Tom as if he were the most important person in Anthos.

"I saw this very dagger in Malinor for double the price," Tom said, quietly.

"Yes, yes you did, my friend," the Trader responded happily. "These are the finest daggers around-"

"You are, however, selling this axe for much more than it is worth," Tom  cut him off.

"yes, but look at the engravings on the handle!" the Trader defended. "They are carved form the finest hands of the Relam."

"It was carved by the hands of a schoolboy, no younger than his fifth year."

   A man huffed and tossed the axe down: "He's right, Trader, it's weak."

"All right, what do you want?" the Trader asked, hastily, changing tone completely.

"I want a lower price; a fairer price for this sorry stick you call a tool," Tom said, pleased that he was becoming the Victor.

"I'll lower the price by twenty-"

"Forty," Tom said as he gestured to a crack in the blade.

    The Trader gasped at the request and spoke much louder: "I will sell it to you for thirty-five less than the price, and that is the lowest price I can sell it for."

"Well, my friend," Tom said in mockery, "it seems to me that you have failed to fulfill the reputation as a fine merchant. This axe is in perfect condition and is being sold for much less than it is worth."

   He set the axe down and walked away, slowly.

"Wait!" the Trader shouted. "I'll sell it to you for forty-five less than the price!"

"Thank you," Tom turned and took the axe, happily.