SamTanGom

Drahlin does not blub like many of his extremist racist distant relatives might have done, but sighs. "He will be sorely missed. There goes my father's idol."

While passing by, Drahlin skims over the notice with a nod of approval. "It took them that long to notice? Finally, our cousins begin to understand."

The two reasons that I'm not fully satisfied with HE RP: - I can't find any people to be racist with. I mean, we should all get together in a band and walk into the Standing Inn and insult random people. It's a perfectly normal characteristic of the aheral. - No one is at the Haelun'or gates to let me in. D:

Large crossings-out and edits have been noticeably made to Draehlin's wish note. ((Edited my wish page 5))

((MC Name: SamTanGom)) Dearest Glugolas, For Knoxmas I would like the ability to practice decent alchemy, if not arcane magic, again. I have not cast a single spell or brewed a single concoction since the curse of a mage of the Black Scourge on me back in Anthos. A nice little dagger of elven-make, inlaid with precious stones and enchanted with assorted effects. A mali'aheral needs something to defend himself. Or, if all else fails, make me the most prettiest, fabulousest mali'aheral in all of Athera. For reference, see this magical picture my cousin-in-law-thrice-removed made when he was drunk: Signed, Draehlin Faelor

Aegis, Year 1053. The forest was disturbed. Amidst the cracking of twigs and the rustling of bushes, a dark figure rushed through the night fauna. He had not the grace or agility of a mali’ame, or the blundering totter of a dwedmar, but he moved swift and that was enough. He clutched a dusty leather tome in his hands, the golden title faintly glimmering. Finally, the figure ceased. He had reached an empty campsite, with the campfire a distant, flickering reflection of its former glory. “Guys! GUYS! I’ve got it-” “Do not make so much noise or I snap your neck.” A female elf - hard to tell what kind in the darkness - had suddenly approached from behind from the back, and gloved hands wrapped around the figure’s throat and neck. “Wot’s this?” A hooded halfling, no bigger than three feet one, appeared in front of the duo. With quick hands, he quickly snatched the leather-bound tome from the figure’s (who we can presumably identify as a human) hands and flicked it open. His eyes betrayed the slightest hint of satisfaction as he skimmed over the faintly glowing Ancient Elven words in the dark. “The lad is good. Y’may release ‘im now, Eva.” The female elf reluctantly let go of her human companion. “W-w-what - how much is it?” the human stammered. “Ah don’t know-ah fer sure.” The halfling grinned. “Five, six hundred... maybe even close to a thousand minas if we get lucky.” The female elf giggled in delight. “We’ll be rich! Forever! And they won’t find us-” “Surprise.” The party was interrupted by a white-cloaked figure, who seemingly emerged out of nothing if not the faintest of bushes. His hood was on, but by his pale face and eyes of icy ocean it was clear he was a mali’aheral. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” The party made ready to run for it, but that again was soon stopped by two more mali’aheral, magic staves glowing green and purple in the night. “We mali’aheral value our books.” White cloak moved slowly, his every move calculated to bring fear into his victims’ hearts. “H-here sirrah.” The halfling threw the book down in front of the white high elf, while the other two moved even closer. To the thieves’ shock, white cloak bent down and burnt it with his stave. The blue fiery tongues of the burning tome soon began to spread. “Oh, that was only a spare copy.” White cloak cackled softly, baring sharp teeth as his colleagues ignited green and purple fiery staves behind them. With a mighty gesture, the flames quickly smothered the halfling. The small man rolled around in vain, then after half a minute, stopped. His companions looked on in terror, too terrified to think of an escape plan. The human made a quick move, but purple fire grabbed him and touched his stave to his neck. “Ah... AH! Get it off! Get IT OFF!” The human clawed at his neck in vain as yet another fiery tongue engulfed him. Green fire stamped his stave into the ground, adding to the human’s discomfort as another flame smothered him. Meanwhile, the female elf - mali’ker by the look of it - was forced to the ground by green fire. She looked up at white cloak with big, pleading eyes. “D-don’t kill me...” “Oh, I promise.” The white cloak snapped his fingers, and another young elf appeared. He looked much like his apparent father, except for the milder look in his eyes. His father threw him a sword. “Go on, Drahlin.” The young elf hesitated. His eyes studied the mali’ker’s. They wanted pleading. They wanted life. They wanted forgiveness. And all of a sudden, the warmth in his eyes was replaced by an icy glare. ... “And he kept his promise.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sup guys! My name's SamTanGom. New to the community. This is a little smidgen of my character Drahlin Faelor's backstory. I'm not good on years, but this is an extract of the story explaining why he is what he is today. Feedback appreciated. :)

More specifically, DRAAAAAAAKES DRAAAKES EVERYWHERE OH SH*T

MC Name: SamTanGom Name: Draehlin Faelor Age: 480.. or so. Gender: Male Origins of your birth: Princedom of Malinor, Aegis How long have you resided with the blessed Mali’aheral? For all - all, my friend - of my life. I dare not seek less. Why do you wish to become a citizen of our cihi? A mali'aheral cannot settle for less. For me, either live with my kin or be labeled an outcast. How can you declare you are Mali'thill? Why not? I am of traditional mali'aheral appearance, have attended the College of Haelun'or, and most importantly, deem the mali'aheral as the purest race. What does maehr'sae hiylun'ehya mean to you? Progress, and health. Progress. We must constantly strive to better our works in life, since that is all we have when we are departed from this world. Health? The purity of the Mali'aherali is first and foremost. Always. What is your personal vision for our blessed race? To be free from all - all - impurities. A curse on all half-breeds and their kin! Are there any other details about yourself you wish to relay to the mali’aheral? Former student of the college of Haelun'or. Expert swordsman, enlisted with the Weeping Blades for some time before finally leaving to be a scholar of law, assisting in ensuring the fates of those who dare flaunt the rules and regulations of the mali'aheral.

Out-Of-Character Information What’s your Minecraft Account Name?: - SamTanGom How old are you?: - 15 Have you ever roleplayed on a minecraft server before? If so, where?: - Gildorym, Arithia, Tale Of Kemen and Solstice are all roleplay servers I have played on. Have you applied to this server before? (Please link past applications): - Nope. How did you hear about us?: - Googling minecraft roleplay servers. What do you think the server will be like? - A traditional medieval fantasy server, with a largplayerbase. Have you read and agreed to the rules?: - Yes. What’s the rule you agree with the most?: - No roleplay pedo situations. I hate pedos. Do you understand combat rules, and what you can and can’t do if you do choose to roleplay as a villain?:- Yes. Are there any rule(s) that confuse you or don’t make sense?(If so maybe we can help clear it up! You will not be denied for having a question on the rules):- None at the moment, but I may need help if anything strange happens in game. Definitions What is roleplaying?: - To put yourself in the shoes of a certain character, and act and make decisions as if you were that character. What’s metagaming?: - To take information OOC that your character wouldn't have normally known, then use it IC as if your character magically 'knows it'. E.g 'just knowing' the location of a secret hideout. What’s powergaming?: - To force actions onto other characters. In-Character Information What’s your character called?: - Gruk'Blarg What race are they? (and sub-race if applicable): - An Uruk Orc. What gender are they?: - Male. How old are they?: - 34 Give us a highlight of their past, What life events make your character the person they are today? This is your character's biography. It is also required to include server lore when writing. (Names of towns, major server events, ect. Most lore can be found on our wiki.): - Gruk had always been a very curious orc. During his long hunting trips with his father in the deserts of Uzg, Gruk would incessantly ask questions about their surroundings: why is the campfire orange? Why do we need to cook the meat? Why is the sand yellow? Why is the night dark? Where do babies come from? His father was always annoyed by these questions, telling him it was dangerous to meddle with the very fabric of nature. Krug would be angry, his father said while shaking a stern finger. Some things should be left alone. However, Gruk never took serious heed of his father's words. His name literally meant "Understand-Home" in the Blah. His father was an excellent warrior, nicknamed Warcry for his savage, unearthly battle screams, which his son soon inherited. Meanwhile, his mother did not care much for the blades and heat of battle, preferring to turn to the ways of shamanism, to be more precise a witch-doctor. While stirring a new elixir in a big cauldron bubbling with emerald essence, Gruk's mother would answer all of his questions. She also told her son that shamans and paying homage to the spirits were just as important as learning how to swing an axe. She also told him that witch-doctors and medics were also as invaluable on the battlefield as a glorious soldier. "Remember, my son. Even the greatest warriors needed healing." Gruk listened attentively, becoming more attracted to shamanism. However, Gruk felt that there had to be something more to life than war and the spirits. Every day, Gruk'Blarg prayed to Krug to reveal to him the outside world. This prayer was answered in the most tragic of ways. A horde of Undead assaulted the tribe, claiming many lives. Gruk's father was accused of disclosing the village's location to the necromancer that led them, and was exiled. Gruk now had a legitimate excuse to leave the tribe. Against the pleadings of his mother, Gruk'Blarg set out into the harsh world to find his father, wherever he had gone. And possibly lop off a few heads along the way. What are they like? (personality): - Gruk, unlike his brother orcs, is a very inquisitive person and prefers to know a little trivia or two about his prey before mercilessly slaughtering it. He is also very open, blurting out his life story to whoever listens and often rudely tries to pry into other people's backgrounds and problems. He has a quirk of collecting anything and everything. His questioning nature at first seems childish, much to the dismay of his enemies. He also wants to maintain his lifelong dream of learning to read and write. He also feverishly attempts to keep his hygiene standards up. What are their ambitions?: - Gruk'Blarg's ultimate goal is to find his father, but this will not stop him in knowing as much as possible about the world. Do they have any special skills? What are their weaknesses? (Try to list a few of both): - Gruk is proficient in the following: hunting, axemanship, shamanism and hand-to-hand combat. Gruk's weaknesses are: Impatience, fierce temper, smelliness, barbaric manners, and a disturbing sense of orcish humor. Horrible cook. Give us a description of how they look?: - A huge orc, at about 7'4 and broad-shouldered. One tusk is broken off due to a hunting accident. War paint across his left eye. Two more tusks beginning to grow. Please give us a screenshot of your character’s skin: - http://minecraft.novaskin.me/skin/6181221600067584/Orc-Craftsman