01-25-2010, 09:04 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
Currently studying Law, I am one of two brothers - having spent my childhood making up stories, legends and more (we even created a pseudo-language at one point). My name's Nicholas by the way
I'm in love with debating, fascinated by the occult and practice meditation. Most of my friends tell me I have a problem with confusing reality and fiction... I say they're just mean:P
I love roleplaying because every time I do it I get to explore another side of my personality. As a role-player, I like submerging myself into the Lore of the story as much as I can
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I come from Romania (southern part) and while my primary language is Romanian, my English is pretty good since I've gone (and am still going) to a lot international debate competitions (brag mode ON)
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Fifth grade meant gaming for me - every day after school I'd go out with my friends to an Internet cafe and play Warcraft - Why Warcraft and not Fifa or Counter Strike... because the last two would bore me out of my skull. Warcraft Lore mesmerized me though.
What made you seek our server over others?:
A solid promise for wicked roleplaying. (A friend suggested it and told me it was THE place to roleplay - I trust him)
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Social and political roleplay is what works for me.I prefer small groups - up to three. I love hearing stories and legends and creating them myself - this also includes being part of them (hey a man can dream right)
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Troll / Shaman
Trolls have an incredible history backing them up add to that the way they relate to nature and you get a wicked race.
Shamans, in essence because they connect that which is seen with that which is unseen
What are your expectations of this server?:
Stories and Legends to send my grankids to sleep
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Humility - not because I'm a humble person - but because you get to be part of another one's story
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!:
((Fragment from a story i'm trying to turn into a book with the help of a friend))
Dark. Not the weather outside, as at 3 o'clock the first sun, Yule, was at its peak while Baal was barely rising, giving birth to an almost torrid heat.
Dark. Not the people, for there was much noise outside. Granted some were simply running away from what was now a burning pile of logs yet once must have been a workshop filled with expensive artifacts - but their screams lacked despair. Rather they were idle, seeming to mockingly tease the flames that were now consuming the wooden shop, as though this had happened time and time again.
Dark. Not the room, for every single piece of furniture was plated with silver or gold and something of an unnatural emerald green that seemed to turn a little blue when candlelight shone upon it.
Dark. Not the desk, for upon it lay undisturbed tens of crystals that glittered and sparked brightly as the pale Baal stung it's rays through the dust.
Dark. Not the clothes, for the long robe had aggressive tints of purple dripped all over. It was the standard uniform, well almost standard.
Dark. Not what was happening, as the man was frantically reading a book with yellowing and slightly burnt pages while trying to decipher a rotting parchment and occasionally stopping to stroke a crystal sphere that, with each touch, changed color.
Dark. Not his traits, for his handsome face was only slightly concealed by hair that rivered down gently before finally turning into a violent spiral in the end. Not even his dark eyes which were revealed every now and then by the sporadic glow of a sphere or two, for they held inside a burning passion which gave them a faint gleam.
But still dark.
Dark was the obsession in the air. Obsession mixed glamorously with a unique calm - not that produced by lack of stress, but that of determination. An induced, maybe fake calm created by will alone.
But that was gone one moment
The man no longer wrote. The crystal lost its color.
- Harun! I have found something better to do!, he decreed with a young voice, gently turning his head over his left shoulder
A pair of slick eyes followed by a small sharp glowing horn moved in the corner of the room. They blinked. The thing moved revealing a serpent body no longer than 4 feet and no thicker than a sword hilt - yet not exactly a snake. It jumped on the desk, faintly touching a green stone - It had legs - and 6 of them.
- What is it 'Shaar? What could be more important than..., the snake called Harun paused. His tail started twitching as it rose up perpendicular to his body. He whispered gently:
- Your beloved?
- No, said the man with a much to pleased voice that worked perfectly with his now truly blazing eyes. Even better. I have found someone who will win against his heir.
Harun smiled exposing a pair of razor white teeth that must have been so finely honed they could cut through shield and sword. He crawled on his arm then onto his back finally entering his robe in the especially designed inside chest pocket.
- It'll be about a day... these can wait, said the man while giving the papers he was so enthusiastically working with mere moments ago a bored look.
They left the room taking, it seemed, nothing with them. They passed the burning shop and upon reaching the gates were stopped by one of the guards.
-Oy! where're you goin?, asked the guard smirking as he looked down at the warlock before precisely landing his spit in a puddle of mud… - that seemed to amuse him.
The guard was given a golden parchment decorated so majestically it would do it injustice to only call it a work of art. After some moments (he was noticeably having a hard time reading the parchment) he gasped suddenly and hastily took a step back.
- I'm sorry Sir! I'm sorry sir. Plea.. please go on. The guard said shakingly in the most humble voice he could use.
The warlock produced a smile - it was about to become a horrific smile, one that would send the guard trembling on his knees. Yet a faint nudge in his chest area reminded him now was not the time for petty things. The smile was not seen. They walked away.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I'm in the middle of my exams right now... why am I doing this now?
I'd like to be able to look back at this in three weeks time and say "This was the right thing to do"...
This is going to be very fun
Currently studying Law, I am one of two brothers - having spent my childhood making up stories, legends and more (we even created a pseudo-language at one point). My name's Nicholas by the way
I'm in love with debating, fascinated by the occult and practice meditation. Most of my friends tell me I have a problem with confusing reality and fiction... I say they're just mean:P
I love roleplaying because every time I do it I get to explore another side of my personality. As a role-player, I like submerging myself into the Lore of the story as much as I can
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I come from Romania (southern part) and while my primary language is Romanian, my English is pretty good since I've gone (and am still going) to a lot international debate competitions (brag mode ON)
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Fifth grade meant gaming for me - every day after school I'd go out with my friends to an Internet cafe and play Warcraft - Why Warcraft and not Fifa or Counter Strike... because the last two would bore me out of my skull. Warcraft Lore mesmerized me though.
What made you seek our server over others?:
A solid promise for wicked roleplaying. (A friend suggested it and told me it was THE place to roleplay - I trust him)
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Social and political roleplay is what works for me.I prefer small groups - up to three. I love hearing stories and legends and creating them myself - this also includes being part of them (hey a man can dream right)
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Troll / Shaman
Trolls have an incredible history backing them up add to that the way they relate to nature and you get a wicked race.
Shamans, in essence because they connect that which is seen with that which is unseen
What are your expectations of this server?:
Stories and Legends to send my grankids to sleep
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Humility - not because I'm a humble person - but because you get to be part of another one's story
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!:
((Fragment from a story i'm trying to turn into a book with the help of a friend))
Dark. Not the weather outside, as at 3 o'clock the first sun, Yule, was at its peak while Baal was barely rising, giving birth to an almost torrid heat.
Dark. Not the people, for there was much noise outside. Granted some were simply running away from what was now a burning pile of logs yet once must have been a workshop filled with expensive artifacts - but their screams lacked despair. Rather they were idle, seeming to mockingly tease the flames that were now consuming the wooden shop, as though this had happened time and time again.
Dark. Not the room, for every single piece of furniture was plated with silver or gold and something of an unnatural emerald green that seemed to turn a little blue when candlelight shone upon it.
Dark. Not the desk, for upon it lay undisturbed tens of crystals that glittered and sparked brightly as the pale Baal stung it's rays through the dust.
Dark. Not the clothes, for the long robe had aggressive tints of purple dripped all over. It was the standard uniform, well almost standard.
Dark. Not what was happening, as the man was frantically reading a book with yellowing and slightly burnt pages while trying to decipher a rotting parchment and occasionally stopping to stroke a crystal sphere that, with each touch, changed color.
Dark. Not his traits, for his handsome face was only slightly concealed by hair that rivered down gently before finally turning into a violent spiral in the end. Not even his dark eyes which were revealed every now and then by the sporadic glow of a sphere or two, for they held inside a burning passion which gave them a faint gleam.
But still dark.
Dark was the obsession in the air. Obsession mixed glamorously with a unique calm - not that produced by lack of stress, but that of determination. An induced, maybe fake calm created by will alone.
But that was gone one moment
The man no longer wrote. The crystal lost its color.
- Harun! I have found something better to do!, he decreed with a young voice, gently turning his head over his left shoulder
A pair of slick eyes followed by a small sharp glowing horn moved in the corner of the room. They blinked. The thing moved revealing a serpent body no longer than 4 feet and no thicker than a sword hilt - yet not exactly a snake. It jumped on the desk, faintly touching a green stone - It had legs - and 6 of them.
- What is it 'Shaar? What could be more important than..., the snake called Harun paused. His tail started twitching as it rose up perpendicular to his body. He whispered gently:
- Your beloved?
- No, said the man with a much to pleased voice that worked perfectly with his now truly blazing eyes. Even better. I have found someone who will win against his heir.
Harun smiled exposing a pair of razor white teeth that must have been so finely honed they could cut through shield and sword. He crawled on his arm then onto his back finally entering his robe in the especially designed inside chest pocket.
- It'll be about a day... these can wait, said the man while giving the papers he was so enthusiastically working with mere moments ago a bored look.
They left the room taking, it seemed, nothing with them. They passed the burning shop and upon reaching the gates were stopped by one of the guards.
-Oy! where're you goin?, asked the guard smirking as he looked down at the warlock before precisely landing his spit in a puddle of mud… - that seemed to amuse him.
The guard was given a golden parchment decorated so majestically it would do it injustice to only call it a work of art. After some moments (he was noticeably having a hard time reading the parchment) he gasped suddenly and hastily took a step back.
- I'm sorry Sir! I'm sorry sir. Plea.. please go on. The guard said shakingly in the most humble voice he could use.
The warlock produced a smile - it was about to become a horrific smile, one that would send the guard trembling on his knees. Yet a faint nudge in his chest area reminded him now was not the time for petty things. The smile was not seen. They walked away.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I'm in the middle of my exams right now... why am I doing this now?
I'd like to be able to look back at this in three weeks time and say "This was the right thing to do"...
This is going to be very fun