09-21-2011, 05:58 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
Not much to say about me, as a person or as an online personality. Not a terribly interesting guy. Name's Tyler, if that's of any note - as a roleplayer, I've been roleplaying on and off for several years (and it's something I'd like to think I'm not half bad at! Though certainly not the best.) I've always enjoyed it, and my RPing particularly took off when I got into the Neverwinter Nights community. That's been going down the drain for quite awhile now, so I figure it's as good as time as any to jump onto the WoW ship and see what all the addiction and love for it is about.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm an American, and my primary language - obviously - is English. It is also the only language I am fluent with (though I am in the process of learning Latin.)
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Into the Warcraft series as a whole? With Warcraft 2, which I played on the Sega Saturn (I believe?) with my brothers when I was a wee lad. It was a fun game, and I later got further into it with the release of Warcraft 3, which I played with and did a lot of work with the editor with. It was a great game, and I was honestly kindof sad when WoW took off because I knew that meant a lot of the people I did hang out with in the multiplayer community was going to jump ship to WoW.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
Honestly, I just googled 'WoW RP server' and this is the first one that came up that looked at all interesting or professional. So I decided that this would be worth a try.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy basically all forms of RP, with not much of a bias towards any in particular. Though I do love me the occasional good combat RP, I do find a good RPing of wiles and intelligence - and debate thereof - is always a nice thing to start with. Setting up a weak character and having them overcome obstacles in their own way rather than just 'HULK SMASH' is always something that I've had a bit of adoration for, and not only for the inevitable Schaudenfraude. Espionage interests me, as well as simple social and friendly RP. Adventure, of course, is also something worth noting.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Probably Forsaken - a genuinely interesting take on an idea that already interests me behind them (undead that aren't just mindless goons). As well as some good character design. As for class, either Mage or Rogue - though I haven't played much if any WoW, I've always loved both of these classes/types of classes in other games and as such I expect tehm to be just as good a match here.
What are your expectations of this server?:
From what I've seen of the server - or at least the forums surrounding the server - I expect a rather mature community with little to no griefing, a good amount of tolerance, and some very good RP of all sorts and varieties.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Respect. One of the most needed things in any RP community, really, is respect - a mutual respect, preferably. Otherwise things will fall apart, drama will happen, and people will birch and moan until the cows come home.
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!:
The blonde man's wispy hair fell in front of his face in tufts and lines, creating a bit of a shaded effect upon his slightly wrinkled facial features, curled up in focus as his eyes briefly turned skywards - the blue orbs staring intently at the sky that returned just an equal shade of blue. A faint smirk emerged from his lips as his fingertips continued to easily glide up and down the frets of the dombura, fingertips plucking and tapping the tensed strings to create a unique and flavorful sound. A sound that would remind one of far-off deserts and sand, of cultures long since faded out. He wrinkled his eyes as he hit a sour note, his eyelids squinting over one of the orbs until they acted as a shade, blocking out all but a tiny bit of the sea-blue. After a moment, he simply let out a chuckle, his hand slipping back up the frets and onto the tuner, which he began to spin, plucking the string at an incessant pace in order to note the raising and lowering of the pitch, attempting to get it to reach a particular note he had in mind. He allowed his eyes to spring open, his aged face giving a tilted smile as he heard footsteps falling towards him. His head turned, and almost at once, a hand gripped his collar and pulled him upwards. His dombura fell to the ground, creating a lilting yet unharmonious cacophony as it hit the ground - almost as unharmonious as the sound of the bony man being pushed up against the sturdy wall he leaned against as he plucked the strings. A grunt escaped from him as his eyes widened like a wild man being forced into a cage before they finally narrowed upon the large man that held him up against the wall in a particularly and peculiarly unfriendly manner.
"Busker," the burly man said - his one eye wide with frustration and a barely restrained rage - the other one well-hidden behind a shrouding eyepatch that, perhaps, covered a gaping hole. Considering the man's demeanor, it would be unsurprising if he lost it in a bar fight - his mostly shaved head only having a thin layer of black stubble that seemed uneven - not to mention his thin, though untrimmed, beard. The man had a look of someone who was tired, angry, and had better things to do than listen to you talk about anything - and that if you looked at him the wrong way, he'd likely dash your brains out over a brick wall. He tapped his foot in idle anticipation of something or another, and Busker simply offered a cheeky grin as his hands dug around the air briefly, as if pretending to look for something. After a moment, the man would tighten his grip of Busker's collar, giving a firm shake of his head as he did so. "You setting up some sort of heist again, you little rat?" He hissed out as he pushed the already sore Busker further into the wall he was being repeatedly and rather painfully forced into. Busk glanced up towards the treetops that caused the end of the alley he rested in, then glanced out towards the pavillion - then he shook his head and gave a big, shite-eating grin.
"Not at all, Gareth," he replied merrily - which caused the burly man, Gareth, to simply lean back and lean forward, shifting Busker's measley weight in and out of the wall once more, giving him a rather large scrape across his back, concealed and armored against only by the small, white shirt that he wore upon himself. And half-wore was more of an accurate term, given that it didn't seem to cover most of his chest, the neck being rather deep and dipping. He glance towards Gareth and shook his head once more, simply shrugging a bit and attempting to wriggle loose of the grip he was held in by his collar. "Simply performing and practicing a bit of music to keep myself and anyone who should meander by entertained, is all!"
"Well, how about you take your 'entertainment', somewhere else?" Gareth's eye thinly twitched as he spoke in a low, threatening tone. It was not a request - it was a command, and that was obvious simply by his tone of voice. Gareth had dealt with plenty of people who had conned him and taken him for a fool previously, and he certainly wasn't going to let it happen again. That was easy to tell by his posture, his frown that remained utterly persistent even in the face of being talked to by someone who wanted it to go away in the most dear manner possible. His fingertips tightened around Busk's collar once more, before he released the grip, dropping him onto the ground. "And don't you dare think I've forgotten about what happened in Dalaran." He squinted slightly down at the small man before giving a small huff and walking off. Leaving the words hanging in the air - reeking of betrayal and broken trust. Busker gave a long sigh and glanced up towards the treetops, where an owl gave a long hoot before it shifted into the form of a Night Elf - one surprisingly large, for an elf, his form dropping backwards as his legs remained on the tree - dangling upside down from it. Busk gave a small smile and a shrug.
"So I guess that didn't work out, huh?" The night elf asked in an almost rhetoric manner down towards the slightly battered Busker. Busker gave a bit of a nod and slowly pushed off the ground, lifting his dombura from the ground and using the strap to sling it over his back. He then gave a big grin - the grin he was known for - as he slipped inbetween the trees and walked off between them. Looking like a man with a goal - stopping only for a second as he shouted back towards the night elf.
"There's always next week. Always another time." And the night elf could only hear a warm-hearted, cheerful cackle fading off into the distance afterwards.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nah.
Not much to say about me, as a person or as an online personality. Not a terribly interesting guy. Name's Tyler, if that's of any note - as a roleplayer, I've been roleplaying on and off for several years (and it's something I'd like to think I'm not half bad at! Though certainly not the best.) I've always enjoyed it, and my RPing particularly took off when I got into the Neverwinter Nights community. That's been going down the drain for quite awhile now, so I figure it's as good as time as any to jump onto the WoW ship and see what all the addiction and love for it is about.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm an American, and my primary language - obviously - is English. It is also the only language I am fluent with (though I am in the process of learning Latin.)
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Into the Warcraft series as a whole? With Warcraft 2, which I played on the Sega Saturn (I believe?) with my brothers when I was a wee lad. It was a fun game, and I later got further into it with the release of Warcraft 3, which I played with and did a lot of work with the editor with. It was a great game, and I was honestly kindof sad when WoW took off because I knew that meant a lot of the people I did hang out with in the multiplayer community was going to jump ship to WoW.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
Honestly, I just googled 'WoW RP server' and this is the first one that came up that looked at all interesting or professional. So I decided that this would be worth a try.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy basically all forms of RP, with not much of a bias towards any in particular. Though I do love me the occasional good combat RP, I do find a good RPing of wiles and intelligence - and debate thereof - is always a nice thing to start with. Setting up a weak character and having them overcome obstacles in their own way rather than just 'HULK SMASH' is always something that I've had a bit of adoration for, and not only for the inevitable Schaudenfraude. Espionage interests me, as well as simple social and friendly RP. Adventure, of course, is also something worth noting.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Probably Forsaken - a genuinely interesting take on an idea that already interests me behind them (undead that aren't just mindless goons). As well as some good character design. As for class, either Mage or Rogue - though I haven't played much if any WoW, I've always loved both of these classes/types of classes in other games and as such I expect tehm to be just as good a match here.
What are your expectations of this server?:
From what I've seen of the server - or at least the forums surrounding the server - I expect a rather mature community with little to no griefing, a good amount of tolerance, and some very good RP of all sorts and varieties.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Respect. One of the most needed things in any RP community, really, is respect - a mutual respect, preferably. Otherwise things will fall apart, drama will happen, and people will birch and moan until the cows come home.
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!:
The blonde man's wispy hair fell in front of his face in tufts and lines, creating a bit of a shaded effect upon his slightly wrinkled facial features, curled up in focus as his eyes briefly turned skywards - the blue orbs staring intently at the sky that returned just an equal shade of blue. A faint smirk emerged from his lips as his fingertips continued to easily glide up and down the frets of the dombura, fingertips plucking and tapping the tensed strings to create a unique and flavorful sound. A sound that would remind one of far-off deserts and sand, of cultures long since faded out. He wrinkled his eyes as he hit a sour note, his eyelids squinting over one of the orbs until they acted as a shade, blocking out all but a tiny bit of the sea-blue. After a moment, he simply let out a chuckle, his hand slipping back up the frets and onto the tuner, which he began to spin, plucking the string at an incessant pace in order to note the raising and lowering of the pitch, attempting to get it to reach a particular note he had in mind. He allowed his eyes to spring open, his aged face giving a tilted smile as he heard footsteps falling towards him. His head turned, and almost at once, a hand gripped his collar and pulled him upwards. His dombura fell to the ground, creating a lilting yet unharmonious cacophony as it hit the ground - almost as unharmonious as the sound of the bony man being pushed up against the sturdy wall he leaned against as he plucked the strings. A grunt escaped from him as his eyes widened like a wild man being forced into a cage before they finally narrowed upon the large man that held him up against the wall in a particularly and peculiarly unfriendly manner.
"Busker," the burly man said - his one eye wide with frustration and a barely restrained rage - the other one well-hidden behind a shrouding eyepatch that, perhaps, covered a gaping hole. Considering the man's demeanor, it would be unsurprising if he lost it in a bar fight - his mostly shaved head only having a thin layer of black stubble that seemed uneven - not to mention his thin, though untrimmed, beard. The man had a look of someone who was tired, angry, and had better things to do than listen to you talk about anything - and that if you looked at him the wrong way, he'd likely dash your brains out over a brick wall. He tapped his foot in idle anticipation of something or another, and Busker simply offered a cheeky grin as his hands dug around the air briefly, as if pretending to look for something. After a moment, the man would tighten his grip of Busker's collar, giving a firm shake of his head as he did so. "You setting up some sort of heist again, you little rat?" He hissed out as he pushed the already sore Busker further into the wall he was being repeatedly and rather painfully forced into. Busk glanced up towards the treetops that caused the end of the alley he rested in, then glanced out towards the pavillion - then he shook his head and gave a big, shite-eating grin.
"Not at all, Gareth," he replied merrily - which caused the burly man, Gareth, to simply lean back and lean forward, shifting Busker's measley weight in and out of the wall once more, giving him a rather large scrape across his back, concealed and armored against only by the small, white shirt that he wore upon himself. And half-wore was more of an accurate term, given that it didn't seem to cover most of his chest, the neck being rather deep and dipping. He glance towards Gareth and shook his head once more, simply shrugging a bit and attempting to wriggle loose of the grip he was held in by his collar. "Simply performing and practicing a bit of music to keep myself and anyone who should meander by entertained, is all!"
"Well, how about you take your 'entertainment', somewhere else?" Gareth's eye thinly twitched as he spoke in a low, threatening tone. It was not a request - it was a command, and that was obvious simply by his tone of voice. Gareth had dealt with plenty of people who had conned him and taken him for a fool previously, and he certainly wasn't going to let it happen again. That was easy to tell by his posture, his frown that remained utterly persistent even in the face of being talked to by someone who wanted it to go away in the most dear manner possible. His fingertips tightened around Busk's collar once more, before he released the grip, dropping him onto the ground. "And don't you dare think I've forgotten about what happened in Dalaran." He squinted slightly down at the small man before giving a small huff and walking off. Leaving the words hanging in the air - reeking of betrayal and broken trust. Busker gave a long sigh and glanced up towards the treetops, where an owl gave a long hoot before it shifted into the form of a Night Elf - one surprisingly large, for an elf, his form dropping backwards as his legs remained on the tree - dangling upside down from it. Busk gave a small smile and a shrug.
"So I guess that didn't work out, huh?" The night elf asked in an almost rhetoric manner down towards the slightly battered Busker. Busker gave a bit of a nod and slowly pushed off the ground, lifting his dombura from the ground and using the strap to sling it over his back. He then gave a big grin - the grin he was known for - as he slipped inbetween the trees and walked off between them. Looking like a man with a goal - stopping only for a second as he shouted back towards the night elf.
"There's always next week. Always another time." And the night elf could only hear a warm-hearted, cheerful cackle fading off into the distance afterwards.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nah.
