ThumperJack

+1's all around. tbh An iron sword will still hurt a necrolyte just as a gold sword would. This only makes it so that people can't run off to find gold weapons, then insta-kill the necrolytes.

Roleplay name: Demagol Doomforged Minecraft name: Voidikal Timezone: CST Skype : Don't have it Relocating (Yes/No): Already have, finding materials to begin on house. P.S. I will glady forge all armor and weapons.

What do you think on the map, current rp, and the quality (Can you find enjoyable rp easily)? And who is the sexiest, most dashing dwarf half-breed around?

Within the snowy tundra of Urguan, a blizzard howls. Wolves chasing rams flee for shelter, forgetting their prey and predator, though, perhaps they are not fleeing the blizzard...but what is being birthed from it. A smooth area of snow, exactly the same as all others, yet this is the source of the local wildlife's fear. After an hour, the blizzard still rages on and the snowy patch begins to steam. The snow thaws, and after a short time, two orange lights appear underneath. More snow melts, until a suit of ancient armor and tattered cloth lies there. Where one might see the eye sockets of a skeleton peering from the helmet, it would actually be utter shadows and smog with two fiery orange orbs flicking about as if analyzing it's situation. Eventually, the ice and snow packed upon the armor is completely thawed off and the dark smog inside the helmet begins to move farther into the armor. The entire armor is filled, and the now wraith-like being lifts both gauntlets, flexing the fingers as if testing them. It then rises, appearing to float as small orange flames lick from the tatters cloth covering the smog that seems to act as it's legs. The wraith then leans over, stabbing a gauntlet into the snow and ripping out an ancient longsword of dwarven make. The wraith sheathes the sword, then lifts a hood over it's helmet. It looks around the tundra that had been it's resting place for so long, then uttering a few hissed words "Anart oz Yemekar... Narvak nir Kavir..." It then departs, and begins the trek to Kal'Akash as it rehearses it's prayers and the occasionally gratitude to it's patron. OOC:

Not even ah full dwed. "Seems yer ah Kadrin'hor in ah dwed's skin, callin' meh ou' on mixed blood."

Demagol shakes his head "Nae. Jus' nae. As ah man w'o 'as nearleh lost ah child tuh slavereh, ah bloodeh say /nae/ tuh t'is 'gain!"

Name (Leave IG name as well): Weston II Fett Race: Human Gender: Male Skills: Swordsmanship, Bowman. As for professions I intend to take up woodworking. Do you meet the criteria to join Hallowvale Contracting?: Indeed I do. Leave an address for a return letter of accepted: I am a mere wanderer of the realm, currently taking work where it may be found. ((Also, please message me your skype privately as a way for OOC contact.)) ((I don't have it.))

Reserved.

Not sure I agree with the going back to barbarism and tribes, but the whole Nations are Stale, and to many leaders I agree entirely on.

Demagol chuckles as he receives word of his banishment "Isn't this cute."

Name: Siol'Sil ((MC Name:)) Voidikal Race: Mali'Aheral Age: 589 Intent in Fi'Ceru: To run the inn and have a place to live. Total Number of Family Members: I am alone. ((Skype Name:)) Don't have it

OOC Ign: Voidikal Skype: Nope Timezone: CST IC Name: Demagol Race: Doomforged Gender: Male Age: 385 Date of Birth (Current date - Age): 1143 Skills (State level): Veteran Blacksmith Combat Skills: I know how to use (Effectively) various weapons, including swords, maces, axes (Both battleaxes and waraxes). Archery is not my strong suit, though I can take a decent shot when I need to. Preferred Weapon: Sword Known Magic: None

RP Name: Mairin Ilesca Gender: Female Race: Adunian Experience: Lord Josiah had tutored me in diplomacy and politics before he had went missing, and in time between then and now, I've worked on my skill with the bow and blade, as well as dabbling more in the political areas. ((OOC Information)) IGN: Voidikal Skype (can PM): Don't have it

Demagol shakes his head with a snort "'e decides tuh do t'is...per'aps 'e was not truleh ah Doomforged afteh all." He huffs again, rather agitated, and goes back to whatever he was doing.

Siol'Sil grumbles to himself "Of course this happens the day after my citizenship is accepted."

Name: Siol'Sil ((MCName)): Voidikal Origin: A village of mali, the name is lost to me as it was centuries ago. How can you declare you are Mali'thill: One will have to see for one's self, words upon paper will prove nothing. Why do you wish to become a citizen of Haelun'or: I intend to live in the coming Fi'Ceru. It is wise to become a citizen of the nation I will soon be a part of, is it not? What is your personal vision for our blessed race: For us to all to learn and prosper as we please, without the lesser races hindering our way. What does maehr'sae hiylun'ehya mean to you: The moving forward of our race, to prosper where the lessers cannot. What Elven phrase do you particularly take to heart? Please explain why: "liewyn'Larihei eltaeleh walehe ohn vallein eltaliyna walehe", for I have seen and felt what a mind, unhealed, is like. And since my healing, and since my decision to return to my true home under Larihei's guidance, I have felt reborn. What is the subject of the first book you will submit to the college: Something along the lines of 'The Sane and Insane', when I get the chance of course. What would be your reaction if you ever saw a human, orc and unknown Mali'aheral travel the roads from The Cloud Temple together: Most likely have the High Elf follow me to the city so that he may be cleansed of impurity. Are there any other details about yourself you wish to relay to the council: No, there are not.

Name: Siol'Sil Age: 589, nearing 590 Experience/Degree: Not much in the way of a proper military, though I'm well versed in the sword, axe, and mace. I know how a suit of plate armor feels, and I'm smart enough to use all these correctly. As well as five centuries of travel and learning under my belt. Occupations and Labour Skills: Hopefully soon, farming, alchemy (Mainly brewing of drinks), and cooking. How do you lay claim to the fact you are pure mali'aheral?: Any who question my purity may find me and see for themselves. How long has one resided with his/her people?: Not long, sadly. It is why I seek to join this, to set some roots as they say. Will you place the wellbeing of Silver and the maehr'sae hiylun'ehya before any individual desires of your own?: Of course. ((OOC)) Username: Voidikal Timezone: CST Skype (can be sent privately if requested): Don't have it. Do you have teamspeak ?: Don't have it either, yes I know, RIP

Name: Siol'Sil, though most know me as Doctor. Race: Mali'aheral Age: 589, nearing 590 Purpose of Application: Seeking a place to live. Contribution to the Settlement: I will contribute to whatever military force protects the island, as well as seeking to start perhaps a tavern, or small shop. ((Skillwise, not quite sure. Possibly alchemist/farmer/chef. Will most likely start working on those.

Demagol decides to go cover himself in the blood of his enemies, then feast on their entrails, then come tell the story. Or put on his dragon costume... ((So.... we wear the costume skin? Or post it here?

I am very interested, though I have three characters I'd like to do it with, and one potential guild as well. I'll edit this with my decision soonTM.

Pre-built, with players (Mainly nation leaders) overseeing the process. May add more to this reply later.

Demagol sighs, though not at his loss. He rubs his face from within his own home, and mutters: "'opefulleh my fears are not true."

Demagol shakes his head at the arguing dwarves, waving his hands for them to quiet. "T'is is not wot Skippeh woul' wan'. Dwarves insul'n otheh Dwarves fer ah throne an' crown! Weh are all kin, all descended frum Urguan in un way or anotheh! T'is is saddenin' tuh see such angeh an' 'atred direc'ed toward anotheh dwedmar."

Demagol waves to Balek lightly, giving a small nod before starting: "Ah 'ave made no promises, ah 'ave stated my 'opes an' dreams. My goals. Ah seek tuh make t'is Kingdom ah merreh place, yet ah safe place tuh be merreh as well. Our enemehs gatheh both ou'siode an' in while weh sit not battin' an eye as t'ey plot an' prepare. Our culture slowleh dies, t'e grea' kegs o' ale an' mead filled yet unopened an' won' be opened until some'un stan's frum t'eir seat an' opens t'em. My /goals/ are tuh open t'e kegs an' readeh t'e nation fer woteveh comes our way. Ah dunnae promise it will 'appen, fer as weh've seen in t'e past, maneh promises t'at were made neveh were fulfilled." He slowly looks about to those present, then looking back to Balek. "Ah dunnae make promises ah cannae make due on, so ah'll make un promise. Ah promise tuh do my vereh well best tuh make my 'opes an' dreams become realiteh."