07-11-2010, 06:05 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
I've been gaming since I was about 3 years old, so been going just about my entire life. Been roleplaying the last 8 years and played wow for a period of 3-4 years, 2005-2009. Roleplaying is a preference to video-games and most other forms of entertainment, aside from reading. I always make room for gaming in my everyday life, and I can barely recollect making it through any week without one form of video-game or forum RP to participate in.
What I enjoy the most about roleplaying is the ability to become a part of a fictional universe and explore the possibilities there. The lack of immersion, as well as an incredibly immature userbase, is what eventually drove me away from WoW and other MMOs.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
Norway. Norwegian is my primary language.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I initially played the RTS a long time ago. The game and its universe didn't particularly appeal to me at the time. About 5-6 years ago, at the beginning of high school, some friends recruited me into WoW. After having played that for some time, I took a liking to the universe and started reading more about it.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I was told about the private server by a friend of mine, Loxxy. She told me that it was a lot of fun and I've been hearing about it for a few months now.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
All sorts appeal to me, though action might be the preferred one.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human/Mage.
It was my initial class years ago and I've always been drawn to spellcasters for some reason. There's just something about this class that sets itself above all the others.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Mainly to have a good time and offer what I can to a hopefully great and friendly community.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Faction NPC death and Keyboard skills.
Just about everyone has rules to regulate people's behaviour and while those are good, they're default. It's great to see some rules that help increase immersion in the world and create a greater role playing experience for all. Rules like those two help you feel like you're a part of a world to a great degree.
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!:
I'll post a short sample from a short story I am working on. It's in no relation to the Warcraft universe, if such a story is required I can post that at some later time.
Rain continuously harassed John as he pressed on down the street, he felt like the bad weather had followed him for some period of time now. Ever since making the trip from Manchester to Leeds and then returning to Bolton for a quick family visit, his days had been plagued by dark and sombre clouds. This could not be anything short of a bad omens and while John had never believed in such things, he had never experienced eight days of rain. This was unsettling and threw the man off his game. A single day of rain was enough to ruin his mood, it was enough to make him clear any scheduled events for the evening, these eight days had made him nervous. Eventually reaching the hotel, a place which had not succeeded in instilling that cosy hometown feeling their sign had promised, his nose picked up a familiar scent in the air. They were serving the same steamed clams that he had passed on last night, was a decent meal to end a cold and painstakingly tedious day so much to ask? With a relieved sigh he placed his bottom on a stool next to the bar. If dinner was out of the question then he might as well skip straight to the dessert. Before even ordering John had been faced with a cool whiskey on the rocks, his preferred drink, but not one he had ever ordered in this bar.
The bartender simply smiled and nodded, placing the bottle next to the glass. John felt that something was off and decided to test the man. â€ÂSorry mate, but I'd much rather prefer you pour me an apricot sour†John said in a dead serious tone, serious as cancer. The Bartender paused for a second and shot a glance over at a man sitting on a table behind them, before quickly straightening himself up, realizing his mistake. â€ÂThanks mate!†John said in a chipper voice and grabbed the glass, before hopping off the stool and heading for the table. He was tempted to grab the bottle instead and leave the glass, but level-headedness seemed like it would be a plus for whatever he was about to experience. The man by the table was dressed in a sharp suit, golden cufflinks and a surprisingly well fitting tie. This man was clearly not a government official, they couldn't afford to dress like this.
John was not unaccustomed to money, and while he did not possess an overwhelming amount of it, the circles in which he often frequented were littered with it. Trust fund children, billionaire-heirs and corporate moguls. The man cleared in his throat in a manner which clearly indicated that he was dissatisfied with the way things were going. John could tell, he had been trained to tell. Before the suit could even begin his sentence, he was cut off. â€ÂIf the Agency sent you, tell them to go shove it. I'm not interested, some things are best left untouched.†With this, he took a seat and enjoyed a sip of that which he had not yet paid for. The alcohol started working a lot faster than expected and the gentleman sitting across the table had yet to say anything, something was definitely off. A few seconds later and the room was spinning, the drink was obviously at fault.
â€ÂMr. Gross, your consent is not something we require for this operation. We will have what is in your mind whether you agree to surrender it or not.†The man said in a disgustingly arrogant tone. John did not have any time to consider this though, coping with the attack launched against his senses was trouble enough. He rose too fast from the chair and fell onto another table, another unoccupied table, the entire bar was empty. â€ÂHe was worried about the bloody drink….How did I not see this?†This question was the last thing John would think the next two days. With a thud he fell to the floor and then everything became black.
John awoke in his room, after throwing a dazed look around himself the memory of last night's events quickly removed any drowsiness. The place seemed similar to his room back in Bolton, but it was definitely not the same one. It had all the typical traits one would see at an inn or a mediocre hotel which led him to conclude that he had been moved to another rent-a-room. “Geez, way to get caught off guard….†John muttered in a disgruntled tone, feeling his head and noticing a letter on the bedside table next to him.
They had put him in the bed but had fortunately stopped shy of undressing him and putting on a pyjamas. Turning over and sitting on the side of the bed John picked up the letter curiously and opened it. Inside was a note, both the envelope and the note were immaculate white, with no more than a few sentences written on it.
“Your life does not belong to you, we can take it at any time. This will be your home for following years. The sooner you finish working, the sooner you will be released from our gaze, begin working.â€Â
“Bastards†John thought angrily and crumbled the note before tossing it carelessly across the room. Last night was nothing more than a demonstration of their reach and ability. The note did not add much further provocation though, threats had never really had any effect on him. They were trying to coerce him into something he had long been tempted to consensually agree to. Perhaps it would be best to simply play along for now, this could turn out to be quite the adventure after all.
Ripping open his shirt, John did not waste any time checking for newly acquired scars. If these scumbags operated something into him, he wanted to find out right away. Systematically scanning almost every inch of his body in front of the mirror, John decided that they had done nothing of the sort. His stomach grumbled and gurgled, still nothing to eat since yesterday's breakfast. Dressing back up, John quietly left the hotel and decided took to the streets. First thing's first, breakfast.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No.
I've been gaming since I was about 3 years old, so been going just about my entire life. Been roleplaying the last 8 years and played wow for a period of 3-4 years, 2005-2009. Roleplaying is a preference to video-games and most other forms of entertainment, aside from reading. I always make room for gaming in my everyday life, and I can barely recollect making it through any week without one form of video-game or forum RP to participate in.
What I enjoy the most about roleplaying is the ability to become a part of a fictional universe and explore the possibilities there. The lack of immersion, as well as an incredibly immature userbase, is what eventually drove me away from WoW and other MMOs.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
Norway. Norwegian is my primary language.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I initially played the RTS a long time ago. The game and its universe didn't particularly appeal to me at the time. About 5-6 years ago, at the beginning of high school, some friends recruited me into WoW. After having played that for some time, I took a liking to the universe and started reading more about it.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I was told about the private server by a friend of mine, Loxxy. She told me that it was a lot of fun and I've been hearing about it for a few months now.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
All sorts appeal to me, though action might be the preferred one.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human/Mage.
It was my initial class years ago and I've always been drawn to spellcasters for some reason. There's just something about this class that sets itself above all the others.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Mainly to have a good time and offer what I can to a hopefully great and friendly community.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Faction NPC death and Keyboard skills.
Just about everyone has rules to regulate people's behaviour and while those are good, they're default. It's great to see some rules that help increase immersion in the world and create a greater role playing experience for all. Rules like those two help you feel like you're a part of a world to a great degree.
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!:
I'll post a short sample from a short story I am working on. It's in no relation to the Warcraft universe, if such a story is required I can post that at some later time.
Rain continuously harassed John as he pressed on down the street, he felt like the bad weather had followed him for some period of time now. Ever since making the trip from Manchester to Leeds and then returning to Bolton for a quick family visit, his days had been plagued by dark and sombre clouds. This could not be anything short of a bad omens and while John had never believed in such things, he had never experienced eight days of rain. This was unsettling and threw the man off his game. A single day of rain was enough to ruin his mood, it was enough to make him clear any scheduled events for the evening, these eight days had made him nervous. Eventually reaching the hotel, a place which had not succeeded in instilling that cosy hometown feeling their sign had promised, his nose picked up a familiar scent in the air. They were serving the same steamed clams that he had passed on last night, was a decent meal to end a cold and painstakingly tedious day so much to ask? With a relieved sigh he placed his bottom on a stool next to the bar. If dinner was out of the question then he might as well skip straight to the dessert. Before even ordering John had been faced with a cool whiskey on the rocks, his preferred drink, but not one he had ever ordered in this bar.
The bartender simply smiled and nodded, placing the bottle next to the glass. John felt that something was off and decided to test the man. â€ÂSorry mate, but I'd much rather prefer you pour me an apricot sour†John said in a dead serious tone, serious as cancer. The Bartender paused for a second and shot a glance over at a man sitting on a table behind them, before quickly straightening himself up, realizing his mistake. â€ÂThanks mate!†John said in a chipper voice and grabbed the glass, before hopping off the stool and heading for the table. He was tempted to grab the bottle instead and leave the glass, but level-headedness seemed like it would be a plus for whatever he was about to experience. The man by the table was dressed in a sharp suit, golden cufflinks and a surprisingly well fitting tie. This man was clearly not a government official, they couldn't afford to dress like this.
John was not unaccustomed to money, and while he did not possess an overwhelming amount of it, the circles in which he often frequented were littered with it. Trust fund children, billionaire-heirs and corporate moguls. The man cleared in his throat in a manner which clearly indicated that he was dissatisfied with the way things were going. John could tell, he had been trained to tell. Before the suit could even begin his sentence, he was cut off. â€ÂIf the Agency sent you, tell them to go shove it. I'm not interested, some things are best left untouched.†With this, he took a seat and enjoyed a sip of that which he had not yet paid for. The alcohol started working a lot faster than expected and the gentleman sitting across the table had yet to say anything, something was definitely off. A few seconds later and the room was spinning, the drink was obviously at fault.
â€ÂMr. Gross, your consent is not something we require for this operation. We will have what is in your mind whether you agree to surrender it or not.†The man said in a disgustingly arrogant tone. John did not have any time to consider this though, coping with the attack launched against his senses was trouble enough. He rose too fast from the chair and fell onto another table, another unoccupied table, the entire bar was empty. â€ÂHe was worried about the bloody drink….How did I not see this?†This question was the last thing John would think the next two days. With a thud he fell to the floor and then everything became black.
John awoke in his room, after throwing a dazed look around himself the memory of last night's events quickly removed any drowsiness. The place seemed similar to his room back in Bolton, but it was definitely not the same one. It had all the typical traits one would see at an inn or a mediocre hotel which led him to conclude that he had been moved to another rent-a-room. “Geez, way to get caught off guard….†John muttered in a disgruntled tone, feeling his head and noticing a letter on the bedside table next to him.
They had put him in the bed but had fortunately stopped shy of undressing him and putting on a pyjamas. Turning over and sitting on the side of the bed John picked up the letter curiously and opened it. Inside was a note, both the envelope and the note were immaculate white, with no more than a few sentences written on it.
“Your life does not belong to you, we can take it at any time. This will be your home for following years. The sooner you finish working, the sooner you will be released from our gaze, begin working.â€Â
“Bastards†John thought angrily and crumbled the note before tossing it carelessly across the room. Last night was nothing more than a demonstration of their reach and ability. The note did not add much further provocation though, threats had never really had any effect on him. They were trying to coerce him into something he had long been tempted to consensually agree to. Perhaps it would be best to simply play along for now, this could turn out to be quite the adventure after all.
Ripping open his shirt, John did not waste any time checking for newly acquired scars. If these scumbags operated something into him, he wanted to find out right away. Systematically scanning almost every inch of his body in front of the mirror, John decided that they had done nothing of the sort. His stomach grumbled and gurgled, still nothing to eat since yesterday's breakfast. Dressing back up, John quietly left the hotel and decided took to the streets. First thing's first, breakfast.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No.