01-16-2010, 03:08 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
'Ello and throm-ka! Nice meeting you, whoever has the bad luck in reading this.
Well, me, as a player. In general terms my main purpose in playing games is to find people I get on with and share a common interest in (that may well be the game we're playing, but not limited to). I play games for recreation, and therefore I'm not particularily competitive, and try very hard not to get worked up by anything. I like to think I succeed, mainly. Thats not to say I have no interest in playing the game whatsoever, I take quiet pride in my achievements or skills and try hard to work myself into positions of responsibility within a community.
That said, I just recently (4 days ago) left Vanilla WoW. I'd been disgruntled and disinterested with the actual game itself for a long time, and the only reason I kept up the subscription was for the RP! I hail from the European RP-PvP server Defias Brotherhood, and served as leader of the RP guild "Sixty Thieves" for 1 and a half years, a brilliant guild thats been around for over 3 years now, and i've been part of for 2 of those. It was a big decision to leave. But I felt i'd been hogging the top spot for too long and it was time for a change, for the guild, and for myself. Anyway! I wouldn't consider playing WoW for any other reason than to RP, and it is literally all I dedicate my playtime to. I'm also a keen writer and enjoy coming up with wiki-esque style pages about totally ficticious things.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm a true cockney geezer! Well, no, actually, i'm a fake, since i'm geeky, over-eloquent ponce at heart. But what i'm trying to say is that I hail from London! England's finest.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I first started playing Warcraft when I was 14. I was playing the (frankly, dire) MMO "Guild Wars", the first one I ever played, and as soon as someone explained to me the idea of a persistent world.. I switched to WoW straight away. Doing a bit of research, I soon discovered "RP" servers, and immediately decided those were for me.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I actually came across this site completely by chance. I believe I googled something like "RP Thieves Guild" - in my vanity trying to see how far my old guild was from the top (very far
). A thread for an RP guild on this server popped up, and I came and had a look. I love what I see!
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Well, i've been playing a Thief for over 2 years, and i've always liked to RP the villain. Not the cheesy, OP'd, super-baddie, but the normal person who's life prompts him into looking after no. 1 first and foremost. Gritty realism.. in, er, a world of demons and dragons and gnomes. I think its hard to define a certain "place" where I like to RP as in the suggestions.. but if anything i'd have to pick "in a crowd". In anycase, I want to get the most out of my characters, and work out how they'd react in every situation. I spend a long time working them and their background out. So, i'd say - all kinds of RP! No reason why one character would only do one sort of thing.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Class doesn't play a massive part in RP, at least for me. But my class of choice to RP with would be a warrior, simply because they can wear and use the greatest variety of items.
To play WoWise, I liked the rogue most. Yeah, don't judge me.
I'd also find it hard to pick a race, but i'd certainly choose Horde over alliance every time. Each race has interesting possibilites to explore and be a part of. If I make a new character it will be an orc or a Forsaken, as those are the ones I haven't RPed heavily yet! My old main was a gentleman elf of fortune, and I also RPed a tribal troll fanatic.
What are your expectations of this server?:
What i'm really hoping to get out of this server is to find a near 100% playerbase of RPers, where the focus in always on RP rather than anything else. For everywhere you go to find people RPing, in all shapes and forms, not just cheesy overblown heroes and super-villains. In other words, immersion, and a living breathing RP world.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Well, i'm hoping to see RP being actually enforced! That is, no OOC in /s /y, or maybe /g.
I also like the idea of "humility", where everyone isn't just out to make their character "the best". But think how the general situation could be most fun for everyone.
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!:
Here's the first part of a story I wrote about a major heist pulled off by two of the Sixty Thieves. Hope you like.
Mist coiled sluggishly over the moonlit waters, lapping at the sides of great ships at anchor. Wood creaked gently as they rose and fell, vessels from every corner of the oceans. A patchwork goblin steamship bumped quietly against the side of an ogre junk moored alongside it. The ropes of a Sin'Dorei destroyer clacked in the faint breeze, echoing over the shouts of orcish sailors as they unloaded their night-time cargo from a massive battleship, symbols of the Horde born proudly on its prow. Towering over them all, loomed a colossal ship of incredible size, five rows of cannons bristled from each side of the mighty vessel, its three masts silhouetted against the moon. On the prow, a carved figurehead of a giant spiked turtle, its mouth open in a snarl, gave the ship its name. Slaver, merchantman, mercenary and pirate vessel, the Snapjaw was the most infamous ship on this side of Azeroth, and it raised a hubbub in every town in made port in next.
But this town was none other than the notorious buccaneer-city of Booty Bay, run by the Blackwater Raiders. Every trade-route, smuggling run or pirate voyage invariably passed through the bustling docks of the mother of all nefarious and dirty on the seas. It was here where fortunes were made, where they were frittered away in the taverns and whore-houses, and where they were stolen.
For two individuals, furtively making their way through the bustling streets, the latter was foremost on their mind as they moved quickly through the dimly-lit walkways. Night-time revellers, merchants, whores, guards and dock-hands alike did not notice, or pay attention to, the elf and and the troll that moved through their midst. The troll was old, his face covered by a dark cowl, but he strode on with power and authority, a large staff in his hand. Keeping pace beside him with a light step, the masked elf was garbed in black, his white hair shining in the torch-light. Their eyes moved quickly as they walked, constantly scanning everything around them, and they walked in such a way that each covered each other's backs. An onlooker, if any had been paying attention the pair, would have noticed with how much ease and practice they did this, speaking of a long history of experience and partnership. It might have crossed their mind what an odd pair the troll and the elf made, so different but for the same glimmer in each of their eyes.
Soon, the pair had cleared the crowd, and stood on a quiet jetty, the planking littered with discarded fish. They watched the ships bobbing gently a little way further down the key-side. Lights were being lit on the deck of the Snapjaw, and as the pair watched, little figures scurried busily over its surface, making the boat ready to sail, their shouts echoing eerily across the bay.
The pale elf cocked his head and spoke for the first time. His voice was soft, with a strange accent most unlike the rest of his elven brethren.
“They're casting off.†He said, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. The troll beside him nodded, and pulled back his hood, revealing his grizzled features.
“Aye. We should get moving.†His voice was harsh with age, but full of power and confidence, with only a trace of the jungle accent he usually lay thick across his speech.
Without another word, the elf bent and began untying ropes that tethered a small rowing boat, concealed beneath the wooden planking of the jetty, the troll took up position on the front, keeping watch in grim silence.
The Snapjaw, now freed from its mooring post, began to slowly thread its way between the other ships, heading out for the open water. The little boat with its silent partners moved softly across the bay to intercept it, the splash of the oars as they rose and fell as gentle as the light of the moon as it glistened off the waves…
----
~Onboard the Snapjaw~
It was midnight exactly, Ephraime Scoresby, Master of the Snapjaw, ran his finger around the golden rim of a pocket watch that he held in his hand, admiring the way it glittered in the moonlight. Flipping it shut with a snap, the pirate tried to remember where he had acquired such a fine piece, but found that he could not… It had been almost fifteen years since he had displaced the former Captain, a vicious mutiny that only a scarce few old hands amongst his crew remembered. Such a very long time ago…Scoresby had been young and headstrong then, full of arrogance and pride, much like these Defias dogs that kept him waiting, the Captain reflected. Here, his ship lay at anchor, bobbing in the middle of the ocean, waiting for the emissaries of VanCleef to grace him with their presence. The Captain smiled, revealing a neat row of gold teeth along his lower jaw, he knew that trick well. Make the other wait, show them who was the one in charge… Yes, he knew it well, as he was sure these that came to meet him knew that they were very much at his mercy. The rabble of red-masked thugs may be a driving force on the land, but out here, amongst the wind and the waves, Ephraime Scoresby was king.
Still, the Captain mused, it at least showed that the men coming to meet him had spines in their backs, something severely lacking in his present crew… Scoresby spared his men on the lower deck, drinking and hunched around stoves, a brief glance before going back to watch the endless expanse of water as it rippled and glittered under the moonlight, like a sheet of silk. The pirate took a deep breath, savouring the clear air, so unlike the fug of Boot Bay… The sea was his first love, what he lived for, and he would sail it until his time came. Scoresby tugged his long moustache in thought, and growled at the thick grey streaks he saw there, he was no longer a young man… Perhaps one day a fresh youth, strong and ruthless would come with a sharp blade and fire in his eyes to take his place, just as he had done himself, all those years ago…
But then again, it did not have to end like that, the Light knew, he had a fortune hidden away and half a dozen beautiful wives scattered across the continents… Yes, he could settle down in a manor-house by the sea, like the high and mighty noblemen he had so often stolen from, a soft woman to tend to him. Scoresby chuckled at the thought…
Boots clunked on the wood as someone drew near, snapping the Captain back to his senses. Looking up from his reverie, he watched his first-mate, a half-elf by the name of Orlandeau, approach.
“The scum have been sighted at last then?†He called out in a gruff greeting. The half-elf shook his head, making his braided her whip around his face.
“Afraid not, Cap'n.†The “Cap'n†vented his frustration with a string of colourful phrases, but he had hardly expected anything else. He turned back to Orlandeau;
“What is it then?†The first-mate shuffled uncomfortably.
“The crew…have been talking, sir…†Scoresby rolled his eyes, he had been Captain long enough to know when the crew were talking something was amiss. He motioned for Orlandeau to continue.
“The sentries told me they approached a shady figure as he made his way along the forecastle… But…but as soon as they got close, he just disappeared, they said… In a flash of blue light.†Orlandeau paused to swallow. “They…they says it was the Old Man, sir…â€Â
Immediately both men spat over the side, and even the unflappable Captain blinked at this. The legend of the Old Man was one of the most ancient superstitions. It was said that he appeared on doomed ships, walking through the ship until challenged, on which he simply disappeared.. Hunched and hooded, none had ever seen his face, if he existed, but he was a figure of nightmare amongst sailors. Scoresby frowned, but it was still nought but a myth, another superstition in the hundreds of other superstitions that swirled amongst men of the sea. He had long ago dismissed all of these as ridiculous fantasy.
The Captain massaged the bridge of his nose, suddenly longing for that retirement.
“And I suppose they want to turn back, do they?†Orlandeau nodded nervously.
“Yes Cap'n, they says the voyage is cursed.†Scoresby took a deep breath… and his temper snapped.
“We've been sitting here in the middle of the bloody ocean waiting for those scum-sucking Defias for half the night already! If you think I'm going to turn back for some spineless rats who can't handle their grog and end up jumping at shadows, then you're wrong!†He yelled at the startled Orlandeau “ALL OF YER!†He bawled at the crew below, looking up at the sound of his tirade.
He stormed past the surprised half-elf, nearly knocking him flat. The crew shrank back from his sheer fury as he strode through their midst, heading for his cabin. Scoresby growled at the guards standing guard by the door to leave him, and glowered at their backs as they scurried hurriedly away, ignoring their urgent whispers to each other of a ghostly white face appearing at the window.
The Captain took a calming breath, he would count his gold, and admire his new brace of swords, that should soothe him… He turned the door handle to his cabin with a grateful sigh, and stepped into he bright and warm interior…
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Hmm, nothing springs to mind. Other than general questions about private servers, as this is the first time i'd ever have tried one. But I can answer those just by reading
Thanks for taking the time to read all of this.
Hope to hear from you soon!
Ghostie
'Ello and throm-ka! Nice meeting you, whoever has the bad luck in reading this.
Well, me, as a player. In general terms my main purpose in playing games is to find people I get on with and share a common interest in (that may well be the game we're playing, but not limited to). I play games for recreation, and therefore I'm not particularily competitive, and try very hard not to get worked up by anything. I like to think I succeed, mainly. Thats not to say I have no interest in playing the game whatsoever, I take quiet pride in my achievements or skills and try hard to work myself into positions of responsibility within a community.
That said, I just recently (4 days ago) left Vanilla WoW. I'd been disgruntled and disinterested with the actual game itself for a long time, and the only reason I kept up the subscription was for the RP! I hail from the European RP-PvP server Defias Brotherhood, and served as leader of the RP guild "Sixty Thieves" for 1 and a half years, a brilliant guild thats been around for over 3 years now, and i've been part of for 2 of those. It was a big decision to leave. But I felt i'd been hogging the top spot for too long and it was time for a change, for the guild, and for myself. Anyway! I wouldn't consider playing WoW for any other reason than to RP, and it is literally all I dedicate my playtime to. I'm also a keen writer and enjoy coming up with wiki-esque style pages about totally ficticious things.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm a true cockney geezer! Well, no, actually, i'm a fake, since i'm geeky, over-eloquent ponce at heart. But what i'm trying to say is that I hail from London! England's finest.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I first started playing Warcraft when I was 14. I was playing the (frankly, dire) MMO "Guild Wars", the first one I ever played, and as soon as someone explained to me the idea of a persistent world.. I switched to WoW straight away. Doing a bit of research, I soon discovered "RP" servers, and immediately decided those were for me.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I actually came across this site completely by chance. I believe I googled something like "RP Thieves Guild" - in my vanity trying to see how far my old guild was from the top (very far
). A thread for an RP guild on this server popped up, and I came and had a look. I love what I see!What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Well, i've been playing a Thief for over 2 years, and i've always liked to RP the villain. Not the cheesy, OP'd, super-baddie, but the normal person who's life prompts him into looking after no. 1 first and foremost. Gritty realism.. in, er, a world of demons and dragons and gnomes. I think its hard to define a certain "place" where I like to RP as in the suggestions.. but if anything i'd have to pick "in a crowd". In anycase, I want to get the most out of my characters, and work out how they'd react in every situation. I spend a long time working them and their background out. So, i'd say - all kinds of RP! No reason why one character would only do one sort of thing.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Class doesn't play a massive part in RP, at least for me. But my class of choice to RP with would be a warrior, simply because they can wear and use the greatest variety of items.
To play WoWise, I liked the rogue most. Yeah, don't judge me.
I'd also find it hard to pick a race, but i'd certainly choose Horde over alliance every time. Each race has interesting possibilites to explore and be a part of. If I make a new character it will be an orc or a Forsaken, as those are the ones I haven't RPed heavily yet! My old main was a gentleman elf of fortune, and I also RPed a tribal troll fanatic.
What are your expectations of this server?:
What i'm really hoping to get out of this server is to find a near 100% playerbase of RPers, where the focus in always on RP rather than anything else. For everywhere you go to find people RPing, in all shapes and forms, not just cheesy overblown heroes and super-villains. In other words, immersion, and a living breathing RP world.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Well, i'm hoping to see RP being actually enforced! That is, no OOC in /s /y, or maybe /g.
I also like the idea of "humility", where everyone isn't just out to make their character "the best". But think how the general situation could be most fun for everyone.
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!:
Here's the first part of a story I wrote about a major heist pulled off by two of the Sixty Thieves. Hope you like.
Mist coiled sluggishly over the moonlit waters, lapping at the sides of great ships at anchor. Wood creaked gently as they rose and fell, vessels from every corner of the oceans. A patchwork goblin steamship bumped quietly against the side of an ogre junk moored alongside it. The ropes of a Sin'Dorei destroyer clacked in the faint breeze, echoing over the shouts of orcish sailors as they unloaded their night-time cargo from a massive battleship, symbols of the Horde born proudly on its prow. Towering over them all, loomed a colossal ship of incredible size, five rows of cannons bristled from each side of the mighty vessel, its three masts silhouetted against the moon. On the prow, a carved figurehead of a giant spiked turtle, its mouth open in a snarl, gave the ship its name. Slaver, merchantman, mercenary and pirate vessel, the Snapjaw was the most infamous ship on this side of Azeroth, and it raised a hubbub in every town in made port in next.
But this town was none other than the notorious buccaneer-city of Booty Bay, run by the Blackwater Raiders. Every trade-route, smuggling run or pirate voyage invariably passed through the bustling docks of the mother of all nefarious and dirty on the seas. It was here where fortunes were made, where they were frittered away in the taverns and whore-houses, and where they were stolen.
For two individuals, furtively making their way through the bustling streets, the latter was foremost on their mind as they moved quickly through the dimly-lit walkways. Night-time revellers, merchants, whores, guards and dock-hands alike did not notice, or pay attention to, the elf and and the troll that moved through their midst. The troll was old, his face covered by a dark cowl, but he strode on with power and authority, a large staff in his hand. Keeping pace beside him with a light step, the masked elf was garbed in black, his white hair shining in the torch-light. Their eyes moved quickly as they walked, constantly scanning everything around them, and they walked in such a way that each covered each other's backs. An onlooker, if any had been paying attention the pair, would have noticed with how much ease and practice they did this, speaking of a long history of experience and partnership. It might have crossed their mind what an odd pair the troll and the elf made, so different but for the same glimmer in each of their eyes.
Soon, the pair had cleared the crowd, and stood on a quiet jetty, the planking littered with discarded fish. They watched the ships bobbing gently a little way further down the key-side. Lights were being lit on the deck of the Snapjaw, and as the pair watched, little figures scurried busily over its surface, making the boat ready to sail, their shouts echoing eerily across the bay.
The pale elf cocked his head and spoke for the first time. His voice was soft, with a strange accent most unlike the rest of his elven brethren.
“They're casting off.†He said, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. The troll beside him nodded, and pulled back his hood, revealing his grizzled features.
“Aye. We should get moving.†His voice was harsh with age, but full of power and confidence, with only a trace of the jungle accent he usually lay thick across his speech.
Without another word, the elf bent and began untying ropes that tethered a small rowing boat, concealed beneath the wooden planking of the jetty, the troll took up position on the front, keeping watch in grim silence.
The Snapjaw, now freed from its mooring post, began to slowly thread its way between the other ships, heading out for the open water. The little boat with its silent partners moved softly across the bay to intercept it, the splash of the oars as they rose and fell as gentle as the light of the moon as it glistened off the waves…
----
~Onboard the Snapjaw~
It was midnight exactly, Ephraime Scoresby, Master of the Snapjaw, ran his finger around the golden rim of a pocket watch that he held in his hand, admiring the way it glittered in the moonlight. Flipping it shut with a snap, the pirate tried to remember where he had acquired such a fine piece, but found that he could not… It had been almost fifteen years since he had displaced the former Captain, a vicious mutiny that only a scarce few old hands amongst his crew remembered. Such a very long time ago…Scoresby had been young and headstrong then, full of arrogance and pride, much like these Defias dogs that kept him waiting, the Captain reflected. Here, his ship lay at anchor, bobbing in the middle of the ocean, waiting for the emissaries of VanCleef to grace him with their presence. The Captain smiled, revealing a neat row of gold teeth along his lower jaw, he knew that trick well. Make the other wait, show them who was the one in charge… Yes, he knew it well, as he was sure these that came to meet him knew that they were very much at his mercy. The rabble of red-masked thugs may be a driving force on the land, but out here, amongst the wind and the waves, Ephraime Scoresby was king.
Still, the Captain mused, it at least showed that the men coming to meet him had spines in their backs, something severely lacking in his present crew… Scoresby spared his men on the lower deck, drinking and hunched around stoves, a brief glance before going back to watch the endless expanse of water as it rippled and glittered under the moonlight, like a sheet of silk. The pirate took a deep breath, savouring the clear air, so unlike the fug of Boot Bay… The sea was his first love, what he lived for, and he would sail it until his time came. Scoresby tugged his long moustache in thought, and growled at the thick grey streaks he saw there, he was no longer a young man… Perhaps one day a fresh youth, strong and ruthless would come with a sharp blade and fire in his eyes to take his place, just as he had done himself, all those years ago…
But then again, it did not have to end like that, the Light knew, he had a fortune hidden away and half a dozen beautiful wives scattered across the continents… Yes, he could settle down in a manor-house by the sea, like the high and mighty noblemen he had so often stolen from, a soft woman to tend to him. Scoresby chuckled at the thought…
Boots clunked on the wood as someone drew near, snapping the Captain back to his senses. Looking up from his reverie, he watched his first-mate, a half-elf by the name of Orlandeau, approach.
“The scum have been sighted at last then?†He called out in a gruff greeting. The half-elf shook his head, making his braided her whip around his face.
“Afraid not, Cap'n.†The “Cap'n†vented his frustration with a string of colourful phrases, but he had hardly expected anything else. He turned back to Orlandeau;
“What is it then?†The first-mate shuffled uncomfortably.
“The crew…have been talking, sir…†Scoresby rolled his eyes, he had been Captain long enough to know when the crew were talking something was amiss. He motioned for Orlandeau to continue.
“The sentries told me they approached a shady figure as he made his way along the forecastle… But…but as soon as they got close, he just disappeared, they said… In a flash of blue light.†Orlandeau paused to swallow. “They…they says it was the Old Man, sir…â€Â
Immediately both men spat over the side, and even the unflappable Captain blinked at this. The legend of the Old Man was one of the most ancient superstitions. It was said that he appeared on doomed ships, walking through the ship until challenged, on which he simply disappeared.. Hunched and hooded, none had ever seen his face, if he existed, but he was a figure of nightmare amongst sailors. Scoresby frowned, but it was still nought but a myth, another superstition in the hundreds of other superstitions that swirled amongst men of the sea. He had long ago dismissed all of these as ridiculous fantasy.
The Captain massaged the bridge of his nose, suddenly longing for that retirement.
“And I suppose they want to turn back, do they?†Orlandeau nodded nervously.
“Yes Cap'n, they says the voyage is cursed.†Scoresby took a deep breath… and his temper snapped.
“We've been sitting here in the middle of the bloody ocean waiting for those scum-sucking Defias for half the night already! If you think I'm going to turn back for some spineless rats who can't handle their grog and end up jumping at shadows, then you're wrong!†He yelled at the startled Orlandeau “ALL OF YER!†He bawled at the crew below, looking up at the sound of his tirade.
He stormed past the surprised half-elf, nearly knocking him flat. The crew shrank back from his sheer fury as he strode through their midst, heading for his cabin. Scoresby growled at the guards standing guard by the door to leave him, and glowered at their backs as they scurried hurriedly away, ignoring their urgent whispers to each other of a ghostly white face appearing at the window.
The Captain took a calming breath, he would count his gold, and admire his new brace of swords, that should soothe him… He turned the door handle to his cabin with a grateful sigh, and stepped into he bright and warm interior…
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Hmm, nothing springs to mind. Other than general questions about private servers, as this is the first time i'd ever have tried one. But I can answer those just by reading
Thanks for taking the time to read all of this.
Hope to hear from you soon!
Ghostie