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One amongst many.
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
(This can be anything. We like to get a feel for those that will be integrating themselves into our community.)
  • The ultimate opportunity to give in to vanity. For starters I should probably warn the community that I'm not a college age gamer like the majority seem to be. When I first began social interaction over the internet it wasn't even the internet yet. We used BBS(s) to get in contact with each other and Role-play was still a few years off from becoming a subculture. Some of the other old fossils out there may be cheering at the prospect of another fossil joining up, some of the kids are moaning in despair, let me just say that I am the type of person who will invest heavily if inclined in any community I join up to. When that community is Roleplay based I tend toward filling whatever gaps I see, be it villains, heroes or just that old man who tells stories by the fountain who is subject both to ridicule and grudging respect from the adventurers that pass by.

    I enjoy provoking the imaginations of those around me and watching what comes of it. Naturally I'm drawn to the position of Story Teller or Dungeon Master, building story lines from the ground up then slowly drawing others into them. Even as a player I have a tendency to toward this tactic, usually choosing someone who seems to like being the center of attention and formulating ways to encourage others to join up to them using my character(s) as elements to increase that group's motivation toward something exciting or different.

    In the beginning of our relationship, you can expect to find me creeping around watching from the shadows as I get accustomed to the server and the players who live here. As time goes on I'll take up an active role depending on how that relationship grows and what opportunities arise. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to see what happens.

What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
(We ask this, as we take this into consideration with players that do not primarily speak English.)
  • The United States of America.
    Just as most who come from the east coast I actually speak the same language we started with, English.

How did you get into Warcraft?:
  • My introduction to Warcraft began with the original, no, not WC3.. The first one where you had orcs and humans with nothing fancy or special. From there I've watched the world expand as they slowly went in many directions and trimmed them down by retconning almost everything they began with yet consistently added in yet more interesting tidbits to further hook the players. WC to WC2 to WC2:TD, WC2:DP, WC3 and on up to World of Warcraft when it came out. I like the world and lore associated but hadn't given the RP element serious consideration until the table top version was released.

    At that point I began to move away from the retail aspect which was more of a compliment to the table top games I was interested with at the time. Now I have moved away from retail completely, instead delving into the private servers to see what I can find with more of the fantasy and less of the grind.

What made you seek our server over others?:
  • I've spoken with others who play here and liked what I heard.

What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
(Some enjoy relaxing tavern roleplay. Others enjoy fighting, action and danger. Some in crowds, some in pairs. What appeals to you the most?)
  • I tend to range from one extreme to the other from high drama to basic hack and slash styles along with everything in the middle. The intrigues of politics often draw my attention with the covert maneuvering of one group or individual against another just as readily as a handful of warriors battering their way through an ancient crypt to find their Mage friend an old book to add to their collection. My personal view is that all aspects of role-play are based around the need to tell a story and as such fall into the category of art. The type of art you prefer is generally the type that reflects your mood at the time, I feel the same toward role-play.

What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
  • The lowly goblin sapper. Those were fellows who really knew how to go out with a bang. Imagine if you will what their lives must have been like. You are born and raised to love anything with a timer. When you come of age and find yourself a good wholesome wife, preferably the daughter of a wealthy merchant who deals in gun powder, life is good. You perfect your art at blowing things into small easily managed debris then finally comes the day when you're called to war. Knowing you may never return you kiss your wife and children good bye, trying not to pay attention to her looking at your handsome rich neighbor or your kids going over your life insurance policy and then you're off on foot loaded down with barrels of boom. The thrill of knowing a misplaced sneeze could end you, the partying the night before to be sure your courage is intact and your breath alone could cause a conflagration of epic proportions.

    Finally, the fuse is lit, your heart is pounding as fast as your feet as you try to get away and the last thing you know is glory as the smoking wreckage flies through your head.. literally.

What are your expectations of this server?:
  • I expect a certain level of professionalism out of character tempered with a sense of humor. In character I expect nothing and so can look forward to everything the server and it's population have to offer.

Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
(Feel free to review our rules listed here.)
  • The first is the foremost in my opinion. Respect. Too often have I run into groups that thought themselves a cut above the rest and so treated those who may not be quite as experienced or skillful as themselves as inferior. Respect is both given and earned, you cannot demand it or truly require it but you can give it and expect it in return.

    Respect, responsibility and reliability. It sounds like a bit of corporate propaganda but those are also the aspects I look for from any group of people to whom I give my loyalty and whom I trust to look out for my well being and the well being of those I care about.

    Respect is the first step in forming an actual Community in the sense that is implied. A group of like minded individuals who look after one another, taking care to insure that everyone within the unit is pleased with the overall behavior and ideals of all those around them.

    Groups of people congregate together forming larger groups, conflict causes those groups to break down again, this is a part of how we are. If we can maintain respect for each other, even if angry at one another, we can maintain a friendship that spans beyond just the activity we share together.

Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:

"Ah me lads and lasses, gather ye close and listen proper. I'll give ye one more 'fore yer mamas be taken ye back." The grumpish voice of the old dwarf lowered to confidential tones as he began yet another story of his homeland for the handful of children seated before him next to the glowing embers of a gentle fire. Marissa smiled quietly to herself watching the scene as she had for some weeks, knowing she would be forgiven her slowness in duty by the tavern owner, her father, during the Tales. Rognaar was grizzled veteran to all outward appearances, his gnarled beard often adorned with the remnants of a past meal and the streaks of ale that managed to escape his capacious mouth, and yet the parents of the village trusted him above all others to care for their children one night a week at the Tavern of the Fallen Star.

Marissa could remember herself at that age, waiting breathlessly for the end of the week when the old dwarf would come down out of his cabin in the mountains to spin tales for her and the others of her age. Those stories were some of the same told tonight, some of the same to provoke others her age to be out trying to find adventure. Playing at soldier in the city of Ceres three days ride away, some making it further into unknown and uncivilized lands.

Such was not her fate and Marissa had long come to terms with that. She was content to work with her family, serving the needs of her community just as the Miller and the Baker, old John Thatcher and the town smith. Serving ale may not be glorious, but the satisfied sighs of pleasure after a hard day's work given every night by the farmers and others was recognition enough for her. The world had it's warriors and it's bar wenches. There was no shame in her mind to be the latter.

Finishing up her rag work on the clay mugs of the usual sort, she then set about hanging them from their pegs. Back turned to the door, she felt the cool air from outside before she saw who had entered. On turning, her eyes widened in surprise to see a face she thought she never would see again, to hear a voice dredging up vastly different memories from childhood than that of the old dwarven storyteller.

His voice soft with a slight edge from the coolness of a late autumn night, the man leaned against the bar, "Risa, I haven't much time and can't explain.. I need a place to hide and fast."

"Gabriel?" Wide eyed and nearly speechless, her mind suddenly jumped to the meaning of his words. A quick glance showing the few patrons outside the fire's light already turned back to the gruffly given stories at the fire. "Come through the back, there is a door to the cellar." Marissa dropped the rag to grab her skirts, already heading for the doorway, taking for granted that the broad figure would follow her.

Taking down a lantern candle with a pause by the kitchen flame to light it, Marissa led the man to the door downwards, fishing in her bodice for the old skeleton key to unlock it.

Only when both were standing inside on the landing before the stairs leading down did she stop, turning with the question on her lips yet he interrupted her. "I know I haven't been back to visit and there are reasons for that which I can't explain right now.. There are men following me, men who are not the most pleasant. I need you to tell them that you did see me but that I left for the mountains with a bag of supplies. They should leave you alone after that. Once they're gone.. there will be time, I'm sorry."

Without further comment, Gabriel turned to head downstairs, leaving her in possession of the only light, her mouth hanging open without being able to get out any of the questions she was going to ply him with. Closing her mouth with a faint frown, then a sigh of resignation, the young woman made her way back to the common room leaving the candle where she found it.

Just as she was beginning to sort out the matter of things and plan to negotiate the odd situation, the door flew open again to another burst of cold air and there they were. Three men, bulking with chain mail and swords at their hips, only one without a winged helm obscuring his features.

Stepping around the bar, waving to let Rognaar know it was safe to continue, Marissa quickly put a fake smile on her face, "Can I help you mesires?"

The central figure, brown haired and cold eyed, moved up to meet her, the men moving around him to unobtrusively look over the tavern patrons. "Wench, have you seen a man in brown leathers of about this height.. blue eyes, possibly with a sword at his hip much like this one?" Now that she thought about it, Gabriel had possessed such a sword, it had seemed so natural to him that she hadn't given it another thought, "Why yes, he just left through the back a few minutes ago. He bought some supplies, I was guessing him to be headed to the mountains. Should we be worried about him?"

"No, no miss. Everything will be fine, could you show me the path he took?" Glancing to his companions, the three converged as Marissa took them through the way she had just recently come herself, pointing out the back door to the old foot worn path leading beyond the spring house behind the tavern, "The last I saw was his back headed that direction. If you go a quarter league or so there's a road that'll take you midway to the pass, from there deer trails lead all through the Mistmantle Mountains... I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

Her confusion allowed to the surface of her features, she met the gaze of the man as he turned to face her on his way out. "Thank you, miss. You have been of service to your King in this matter." With that the three were gone as quickly as they came.

Waiting only long enough to be sure they weren't soon to return, Marissa made her way back to the common room, whispering assurances to a few as she made her way back to the bar.

Only when the last of the patrons were gone, the children each having been picked up long since by mothers or fathers as they left in turn, did Marissa venture back to the cellar door. Reclaiming and lighting the lantern, she slowly descended into the darkness to find some answers for this troubling puzzle.

"Gabriel? What happened, why were those men after you? Where are you?" Peering around at the darkness surrounding the small puddle of light, a hand over her mouth muffled her scream of surprise, silencing all further questioning as the voice of her childhood love whispered softly in her ear, "Many things have changed over the years, Risa.. many people too. I'm sorry I couldn't have turned out to be a hero for you in this story." A brief flash of pain, then a coldness flowing through her back, mocked by the heat of tears on her cheeks as she realized what was happening, "I'm sorry, sacrifices must be made.. They demand it."

As the spilled lantern smoldered on the floor at her feet, the last the young bar maid saw in life was the glow of runes in a circle replacing the guttering light. Brighter and brighter, those runes slowly consumed her, drained her of what little life remained. The last sounds in her ears that of Gabriel's voice chanting softly. The last feeling being of something else slowly changing her, being taken over by it.

Just after midnight a pair came from the tavern, one a man bearing a sword, the other hidden away in a long cloak. No one would see what happened on the road just outside of town. None would be able to tell the tale of something otherworldly unfolding massive wings to take flight as the man summoned to him a horse with flames dancing around it's feet.

Luckily, all those who lived there were long into slumber before they could see what one who had been born as one of them had become.

Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
(This can be anything. Questions/Comments are always welcome.)
  • So there is my howdy, further questions and comments will be appreciated as I'd like to hear from everyone if you can already see something I should be careful of. I'm sure I will have questions of my own in the near future and shall go about seeking those with answers as they arise.
Hello, and let me be the first one to welcome you to Cot--JESUS CHRIST!

...Okay, head spun.

Welcome. Just... welcome.
Alakintra Blood Knight
Caediath Ebon Blade, Third War Survivor
A beautiful introduction, there. Your eloquence is something to be adored, but more importantly,

Welcome to CotH
A beautiful introduction, there. Your eloquence is something to be adored, but more importantly,

Welcome to CotH

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