ThumperJack

A wee birdie drops a note on Fimlin's shoulder, flying off. "Mountain Clan affair, I speak of Kingdom wide festivals that are long and joyous, not one day feasts. P.S. One day feasts are still good, I merely speak in larger proportions."

Your Name ((RP and MC)): Demagol Doomforged ((ThumperJack_ Race: Dwarf Uldar Irongut (Tirenas) Demagol Doomforged (Thumperjack_) XXX Duren Hammerfist (McPancakes) Heus Grandaxe (Spartanred) Fili Grandaxe (Cpt_Noobman) Buldar Starbreaker (Karmadelta)

A Doomforged adorned in dark armor and a fur cloak steps up in front of a crowd of dwedmar, his bloodred gaze scanning the crowd as they grow quiet. He himself remains silent for but a few moments until he slips off his right gauntlet, exposing the stone hand beneath. "Dwedmar of Urguan, I stand before you with a request and a hope. Allow me to begin with my hope... He inhales for a moment, then continues with an exhale. "I hope to ascend the throne, yes. I hope to lead you all through whatever it is that plagues our skies, but not only that, I hope to avenge all the dwarves who have died because of the very throne I seek to sit upon. Our enemies grow in number, both inside and out. They lurk in the shadows and blaze like the sun. The Legion has grown lax while those who wish us dead plot and kill us. Not only does the blade strike us down, but the spirit. When was the last time we had a true dwedmar festival? When was the last time we broke out the kegs and sung our songs of merriment? Years! Decades even! Our culture declines, and our swords turn dull." Demagol looks about the crowd, them having gone completely silent. "Now, my request. I request that you help me roll out the kegs and sing the songs. I request you help me sharpen the swords and build the walls. Help me drink the ale! Help me swing the sword and fend off our foes! Help me return Urguan to it's former glory!" ((In common for ease of reading))

Username: ThumperJack_ Group: Doomforged By applying, you agree you were elected through a fair system?: Already kinda control lore for the Doomforged so....yea

As a dwarf (Speed decrease, only way to get anywhere is a decent amount of time is sprint jumping), I'll say the 32 bread has saved me numerous times. Either because free food boxes are empty *cough cough* Bad farmers *cough, clearing throat* or...yea...free food boxes are where I get my food from as well as the /bread as a fail safe. Also, note, my character is not a farmer. Primary: Smith Racial: Mining Bonus: Cooking (For when I actually have the wheat to cook with).

I would very much enjoy more fantasy, more events, as well as (As zaezae stated) something like a foreign threat. Another nation beyond our realm, perhaps just a few bandit camps set up, and more random events. I had an idea earlier when I was making an ET app. Have a few ET's occasionally fly around the map and give random events. Pack of wolves, bandits (Not your average PVP bandits), and some high-fantasy creatures/groups. I would honestly welcome being met by a few ET bandits along the road.

Demagol nods "T'is is good."

A Doomforged approaches the 'aheral, and watchs them quietly with some interest. ((I may be interested in playing one of these.

Demagol clenches his fist, then mutters a prayer to Dungrimm. The Doomforged then sharpens his sword, sheathing it in his home and saying to his wife "Spread t'is 'bout t'e elves... Urguan's wrath will find t'e killer."

Demagol recieves one of these notes, looking for Skippy to hand over the message.

Coming off the boat at the Urguan docks are two dark figures, one behind the other. A few foreign merchants and local dwarves to and from Kal'Akash stop and stare at the pair, to those who had lived through the horrors of Velukrumm it would be a terrible and familiar sight. They would remember the pair slaughtering innocents in Iblees' name, enforcing Velkan's law, and watching the residents of the evil city. They would remember the pair striding beside each other toward the Emperor's throne room, then striding out the same way with their next orders. It was Demagol and Virak Doomforged who walked up the mountain, entering Kal'Akash then striding into the throne room much the same as they did decades ago, but this time Demagol holds Virak's bound hands together, then lets go of him as they stand in the center. Demagol then calls into the city... "Gran' King! May ye come tuh t'e throne room fer ah trial of Virak Doomforged, reques'ed by Virak Doomforged!" ((Forum roleplay for a trial of Virak Doomforged))

MC Name: ThumperJack_ RP Name: Skolas Group (Labour/Militant): LumberJack/Woodworker as well as militant.

Demagol gathers several dwedmar, his expression stern and maybe even angry. "Tuh clarifeh, t'is imposteh w'o uses t'e name Virak is /not/ Clan Fatheh, an' is /not/ Virak, fer Virak Doomforged died decades ago. Now, ontuh t'e /fawkin'/ dwed w'o decided tuh stick t'eir noses intuh /Doomforged/ affairs, ah'm talkin' tuh all ye w'o decided tuh give yer suppor' tuh t'is disrespec'ful idio'. Next tiome ah non Doomforged decides tuh take /our/ mattehs intuh t'eir 'ands, t'ey will be dealt wit' accordin'leh." He inhales an irritated breathe, then speaks once more "Ah reques' t'at t'is imposteh of Virak be captured an' brought tuh me so t'at myself an' my clan can fix 'is addled mind. Frum t'is poin' forward, ah am retakin' t'e title o' Clan Fatheh until furtheh notice, aneh issues wit' my clan are tuh be brought up wit' me, /not/ t'e imposteh."

An extremely old human man, sitting in a chair watchs the young warriors go off "I used to be an adventurer like you, then I took several arrows and a long fall to the knee, a few arteries, and my liver."

A Doomforged sits in his study, when receiving word of his old friend's departure, he mutters "Yemekar, Dungrimm, nar Dormmar akhoral voz, Dak'ir." After his quiet unheard farewell, he returns to his stack of papers.

The glow of Demagol's bloodred gaze flares to the extremes, he looks toward his wife with what would almost look like small flames flickering off his eyes "Somethin' is not riogh' 'ere...not ah all..."

A letter finds it's way to Aengoth. "To Aengoth Grandaxe, I've heard of your guild, and would like to wish you luck, for you will need it. I had attempted such during the Dwarf Civil War, and either from poor timing or my own incompetence at such a task, I failed. A few notable smiths I'd point you out to would be Algoda Frostbeard and Dwain Irongut. That is all, ~Demagol Doomforged"

MC Name: ThumperJack_ RP Name: Krogak'Gorkil Teamspeak (Y/N): No Mic (Y/N): No Skype (PM it if you want): Don't have it ------------- Krogut'Gorkil (Deceased)

A Doomforged contains himself in public, showing obvious distraught at the head of his wife. He walks home, and once alone, he begins to mutter curses in dwarfish until they escalate to loud phrases of "Kavir oz Shreck...Kavir Oz Shreck.." Until the Doomforged eventually calms himself with a few hushed words. He slowly inhales then exhales, then sets to work.

Demagol sits in front of the fire of his family's home-in-progress stroking his beard in thought. He shakes his head, then placing his face into both his palms, he then opens up his fingers to look back into the fire. He then stands and straps his sword tightly to his belt, and looks back into the fire "Paymen' is due."

NOMEN: [Your name] Jackson RACE, FOLK: [Your character's race] Human AGE: [Your age] 29 PRIOR EXPERTISE: [Your experience] None [OOC]: MC name: ThumperJack_ Skype ID or Steam name: Steam: ThumperJack Do you understand that you will need to be on teamspeak during battles for comms? I don't have TS, but I've done well with keeping up in military before. Do you accept that deaths involving legitimate roleplay generally mean you must PK your character? Of course.