Scythodemes

What’s your Minecraft Account Name?: Scythodemes How old are you?: 20 Are you aware the server is PG-13 (You won’t be denied for being under 13): Yes Have you read and agreed to the rules?: I have read the rules What’s the rule you agree with the most?: You cannot escape from an unfavorable situation without the use of lore strict role-playing. Are there any rule(s) that confuse you or don’t make sense?(If so we can help clear it up! You will not be denied for having a question on the rules): How did you find out about Lord of the Craft? Definitions Feel free to Google the answers or browse our forums, but make sure that you write the reply in your own words, not those of another website or person! What is roleplaying?: Playing out an embodiment of a fictional character, given qualities and characteristic that pertains to a fictional setting and story. What is metagaming?: The use of information that is outside of a character's perspective. A character shouldn't be omniscient, and shouldn't know about isolated events miles away, or use other omniscient mechanics. What is powergaming?: Directing an action that does not allow another to counter in a role-playing setting. In-Character Information Now you actually make your character - be creative but stay reasonable! Make sure they make sense and that they follow lore. Try to come up with a character that you actually want to play. Character’s name: Scythodemes, formerly Asim Bin al-Iskandar Character’s sex: Male Character’s race: Farfolk (Rassid descendant) Character’s age: 32 Biography (Please make it a decent two paragraphs long. Remember to add server lore, and events that happened to your character so that they don’t contradict history.): My father, Abu Iskandar. Of what I remembered, he and I lived in a vibrant trading village along the shores of Deus Proditor. I never knew my mother nor has my father brought her up. As far as I know it was me, my father, and my uncle Asam. I didn't question our family, as it was a tension that I felt and did not want to test. My father worked as a fisherman for our uncle who was a ship charter and aspiring merchant. As a child my uncle would point across the horizon and tell me the journeys he and his men took. The cities he visited, the strange words he uttered that those distant men had uttered to him. He showed me valuables brought back from those journeys, but I was more encapsulated with the people he met. I dreamt of visiting those strange lands, meeting these extravagant people. The glazed sea was what I saw whenever I closed my eyes. My father learned carpentry from one of my uncle's men who attained the knowledge from distant dwarven carpenters of Kal'Agnar . He persuaded his brother to allow him to be apart of his trading enterprise. With his knowledge of carpentry, he will be able to set shops along Urguan. We would travel along the shores of Urguan as merchants, with the ship supplied to us from our uncle. During this time I learned to build sheds, construct tables, tools, and basic farming. But I was far more interested in the architecture of the dwarves. My father took me to the dwarven master Unn Kharandavuur a friend of our linguist, who taught me basic metallurgy, ore prospect, and astounded me with dwarven stone architecture. I was still in the process of learning until the Orc-Dwarf war disrupted the market. Our settled trading store was recalled, and we had to travel back to Deus Proditor. Unn was called into the war, and I've never heard of him since. My father took our belongings and we sailed back. The waters sheared, and tested our vessel. The waves were unbearably violent and we capsized twice, losing most of our goods, and belongings. Several men perished in the storm and we hungered for days. We finally arrived back to see the village ransacked and overrun by brutes. Our uncle was hung outside of his house, and we were imprisoned. Most of the villagers were held captive. The brutes talked about destroyed lands and that they must continue to venture farther. They took us as slaves, and in a course of a week we built several boats for their fleet. We were held in a vessel, bounded by chains, not knowing where we were going. They went through the devilish waters. Our boat crashed into an adjacent boat, and water spewed in. I don't remember anything from what happened after, but I awoke in another land within my father's arms. He told me that a young woman informed him a great worm demolished the world. Eshe Aliyademes. She and my father decided to work together to build a home outside a settlement north of Khalestine. It seemed purely mutual between her and my father but Eshe loved me as a son. She told me about the care of the land, and how one should endear things that give. She despised the worm, as it ravaged her home and took her son away from her. She would walk along the sand shores alone, looking out, as if she was waiting. Eshe gave me the nick name Scythodemes. I wore that name ever since. Within a year, my father who worked as a carpenter in the settlement, came back from the city Al Wakrah with news of a possible project he can work in. Eshe, my father, and I moved to Wakrah and my father began on the project. We lived in a small house nearby a bazaar where Eshe would work as an assistant for a bookseller. Eshe would bring home scrolls and books, and would slowly teach me how to read. I began reading the books she brought without her aid, and as well as helping my father with construction. I would usually make furniture to sell in the side, as a starting business me and my father would pursue outside his work. A plague struck the city. Eshe came home sick. My father was out for a few weeks helping set up new housing in an eastern settlement. When he came home Eshe had a severe fever. My father told me to never enter her room again. I detested, I told him to get help, but he denied. He knew what it was, he knew what it would do, and the eventual fate of Eshe. He told Eshe what was going on, and what will happen to her. Eshe did not cry. But I stood crying, asking my father to please get help. My father grabbed me and told me they would take her outside the city and kill her if anyone found out she was sick. Eshe told me stop crying and slipped a book under the door for my father to give me. My father quickly snatched it and hid it later. I would give Eshe food and water until her eventual death. She would tell me stories of her son, and her past husband. Stories of her life before the destruction of Athera. She sang hymns to me and would tell me jokes about the times she worked in the bazaar. She sang me a song a woman taught her to sing, it was Elvish. I remembered how beautiful it was. I remembered how even if Eshe was fragile, her fragility never destroyed how truly wonderful she was inside. A few days before she passed away, she told me to get my father. My father came and Eshe slipped a book. Again, my father quickly snatched it. That night, I hear my father crying uncontrollably in the other room. The next morning he slipped the book back to her, looked at me and looked down. Eshe passed away a few hours later, and is now buried in our old settlement north of Al Wakrah. The book explained the longstanding feelings they had for each other, written versions of the letters Eshe kept and always wanted to give to my father. They never audibly said their emotions of one another, let alone acted it. But in the pages, it would always stay. If memories would eventually take away what Eshe have said to my father, these written words would always remind him of what she always wanted to say. The last words in the book were written in a lovely floral style: Ana Bahebak Eshe I've since moved out the city to the settlement east. My father remains in the city, refusing to step out of the gates. I was split between setting up a shop, or moving back to the city in hopes of high paying projects. I visit my father for consultation, and he asks me to start a career as a traveling merchant, something he wished he could've continued. Before I left his quarters he handed me a book and a knitted fabric that Eshe crafted. It was Eshe's book that my father previously snatched... In it contained poems, but in the 15th page, contained an runic message. Not one linguist in the city can determine what was written. In Eshe's book, it also explained ingredients for herbal potions that she attained from an Elvish scroll. Songs from several languages. Instructions for spells, and arcane mythology. The book was largely unfinished. In Eshe's last entry before the blank pages: My dear Scythodemes. I sat here in the bazaar for years learning about other cultures and other lives. I've written the greatest things I've learned about the world, without stepping outside the gates. I've dreamed within the pages and seen the world in ink. I don't want you to do the same. The rest is for you, but only write away from home. For this you must promise me. Eshe Personality Traits: Strong-willed, Handy, Ease of tongue, Cunning, High moral ground, Constructive, Fast learner Ambitions: To travel, to trade, and to finish Eshe's book Strengths/Talents: Barter, Carpentry, Architecture, Literature, Woodwork, Masonry, Metallurgy/smithing Weaknesses/Inabilities: Combat. No formal military experience. Lack of knowledge in the arcane. Low endurance. Poor eyesight Appearance (List the extra details of your characters appearance, IE; height & weight): Tan skin, slightly below average height. Wears a gray handed down robe, with ragged brown pants. Has Eshe's blue cloth covering the face.