10-03-2010, 05:42 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
I'm a long time role-player who has been role-playing since before I started my "relationship" with World of Warcraft. I'm in an end-game raiding guild on the Moon Guard server, as the character Vildranir. On other RP servers, because of the quality I seek, I have been known as an elitist, or a lore-nazi - however, I think that the quality I am looking for will be found here.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm from the United States of America, and I speak good 'ol English primarily.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My father introduced me to the game after we had been playing Dungeons and Dragons (pen and paper) since I was very young, and had just got done playing the D&D Online game.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I found this server from being told about it from friends on other private servers. I.E. Echeloned WoW / Dominion WoW.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy all sorts of RP, it simply depends on the primary character I am on. I primarily RP three different characters - Isandor, Vakrigar, and Percias. The type of RP that fits with the character is what I generally enjoy.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I don't particularly have -one- single favorite, however, I do have three different favorites.
Vakrigar Axefang, my grizzled Orcish veteran is a long time character of mine that I've had since WoW's launch.
Isandor Sunwraith, my elitist, arrogant, sarcastic, and filled with cynicism just as much as the Light - Elven Blood Knight.
Finally, there is my D&D styled roguish adventurer who generally takes on the name as Percias Withershult, but has been known to be other names, and race combinations.
What are your expectations of this server?:
My expectations are finding Role-Players that are on my same level, and that have the mental capability of understanding, and creating lengthy and meaningful role-play storylines.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I feel that the Prestige, and entire registration features appeal to me the most out of everything at all. I know from being on Echeloned WoW, and that of Dominion WoW that people can have their characters over-powered with absolutely no story backing them.
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 first I suppose I'll start with is Vakrigar Axefang, and I may do others later. )
Vakrigar Axefang sat around the pyre at the edge of the orcish war-camp he found himself at, while participating in one of the many call-to-arms skirmishes with the Grand Alliance. His reddish eyes met the eyes of the younger generation of Orcs finally coming into fruitition. Breaking the silence, Vakrigar let forth a laugh, some of the meat stuck in his teeth was now visible as his mighty jaws were opened. The younger warriors looked puzzled at the veteran, and once he had calmed, he simply shook his head from side to side. "You all are alongside me as members of the Warsong Clan, but do you truly know of your grand chieftain? Do you truly realize who Grom Hellscream really was?" At first, many of them nodded their heads in agreement with his words, telling him that they knew of the savior of the Orcs, and another laugh bellowed from those fit lungs of his. "No, you do not know of the true Grom Hellscream. Allow me to enlighten you." He had paused, reaching up to remove that wolf-skin helmet that he had come to wear at almost all times, the previous head of one of his faithful companions that bore him through many a harsh weather, and even harsher battles. "Grom Hellscream, our honorable chieftain, was a man who paved the way for not only our destruction, but also our ultimate survival. If not him, then it would've been another, and perhaps the other would not have had the courage, and strength of Grom, ultimately damning our people to be the slaves of the Legion forever. Now then, when you charge into battle, feel his strength in your arms! Feel his courage in your hearts! Do not falter at the sight of the Alliance, or any other foe you may meet! Our mighty chieftain remains with us, and gives us the strength to continue fighting!" At that moment, he took in a deep breath, before bellowing out loudly, "GLORY FOR GROM!" Large Orcish fists pounded their chests around the pyre, like drums chanting on the back of a kodo.
It was at that moment that their position had been given away to the agents of the Kaldorei who had been trailing the party as they had come south of the Ashenvale Forest. There were seven of the Kaldorei, and only five Orcs - outnumbering them with simple bodies. It was at that moment that the Kaldorei sprung into action, barring forth their moonscythes, and blades with murderous intent, and animalistic fury matching that of a blood-frenzied Orc. Vakrigar was taken by surprise, but roared loudly, reaching at his side to grasp the mighty Axefang from the ground, before letting forth yet another roar that would send chills down the spine of his enemies, giving him a chance to come to his senses about what was happening, before jumping into the fray. Already two of the younger Orcish warriors had been slain in the confusion, but Vakrigar was alert and at his senses now, not about to allow another one of his comrades to fall because of his inability to act. The Kaldorei had dived backwards, getting into a defensive position, and readying themselves for the worst now that the Orcs were alert to their presence, and Vakrigar charged forth into the group of the Kaldorei. As soon as he had barreled his body towards one of the Kaldorei, the others began to slice, and stab into his skin - the blood frenzy taking him over as he began to sustain wounds on his biceps, and shoulders - being that he hardly wore any armor at all. The rage flowing through his veins began to be eaten away by his blood, using the over-produced testosterone to produce more cells to heal his wounds. During the skirmish, there never was a point at which he was not yelling forth some inspiring war-cry such as: "FOR THE WARCHIEF!", "BLOOD FOR BLOOD!", "LOK'TAR OGAR!", or even "GLORY FOR GROM!". Upon yelling forth his previous chieftain's name, he swung his large axe around in a circle, using the momentum to continue moving his body in such a way, catching the Kaldorei offguard with the huge radius of his axe, before cleaving four of them straight in half with the movements. The surviving younger Orcs chased the now fleeing Kaldorei, while Vakrigar collapsed on the ground, panting heavily as he was now begining to feel the wounds he had sustained as his rage left his systems. At the pouch on his belt, there was a flask at which he reserved for only occasions of need, a flask given to him by that of a trollish Witch Doctor. He popped the cork out of the flask, and brought it to his lips - downing the contents completely, and only allowing a minimal amount to drizzle down his face, and into his thin beard. As the potion began to take effect throughout his body, and stitch together his wounds, he was brought into unconciousness, dreaming of his homeland again, of Draenor.
In his dreamstate of his homeland, he could see the beautiful scenery of what would become known as Nagrand, looking over the vast land, and seeing that of the other settlements about. His hut had been on the top of a tall hill, where he could overlook, and see clearly for miles, upon miles. In the distance, he could see one of the many Draenei temples that had been constructed for the beings known as the Naaru. On a shoddy weapon rack near the edge of his fence, there was his glorious axe, known as the Axefang. However, when he turned around, he saw his gruntling son, and was hit with a tinge of remorse for his inability to fulfil his promises to protect not only his blood, but his clan.
Instantly his dreamstate flashed blood red, and he was in the middle of the ruined Draenei temple of Shattrath. He turned around multiple times, and saw the devastation that he had been forced to commit under the influence of the demonic blood, and that of their war-party leader - Varok Saurfang bellowing out battle cries. It was too much for him to bear as he saw the things that had haunted him for so many years being played before him again, causing the mighty orc to fall to a knee, simply staring at the ground in rage. Then, everything became blurry.
Vakrigar opened his eyes to be laying on a sheet inside a hut in what he would find out later to be Durotar. He let out a disgruntled sigh, and simply shook his head from side to side, trying to forget the ghosts of his past, and to seal those old wounds once again.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No questions at all, but I am looking forwards to RPing with the lot of you.
I'm a long time role-player who has been role-playing since before I started my "relationship" with World of Warcraft. I'm in an end-game raiding guild on the Moon Guard server, as the character Vildranir. On other RP servers, because of the quality I seek, I have been known as an elitist, or a lore-nazi - however, I think that the quality I am looking for will be found here.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm from the United States of America, and I speak good 'ol English primarily.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My father introduced me to the game after we had been playing Dungeons and Dragons (pen and paper) since I was very young, and had just got done playing the D&D Online game.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I found this server from being told about it from friends on other private servers. I.E. Echeloned WoW / Dominion WoW.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy all sorts of RP, it simply depends on the primary character I am on. I primarily RP three different characters - Isandor, Vakrigar, and Percias. The type of RP that fits with the character is what I generally enjoy.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I don't particularly have -one- single favorite, however, I do have three different favorites.
Vakrigar Axefang, my grizzled Orcish veteran is a long time character of mine that I've had since WoW's launch.
Isandor Sunwraith, my elitist, arrogant, sarcastic, and filled with cynicism just as much as the Light - Elven Blood Knight.
Finally, there is my D&D styled roguish adventurer who generally takes on the name as Percias Withershult, but has been known to be other names, and race combinations.
What are your expectations of this server?:
My expectations are finding Role-Players that are on my same level, and that have the mental capability of understanding, and creating lengthy and meaningful role-play storylines.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I feel that the Prestige, and entire registration features appeal to me the most out of everything at all. I know from being on Echeloned WoW, and that of Dominion WoW that people can have their characters over-powered with absolutely no story backing them.
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 first I suppose I'll start with is Vakrigar Axefang, and I may do others later. )
Vakrigar Axefang sat around the pyre at the edge of the orcish war-camp he found himself at, while participating in one of the many call-to-arms skirmishes with the Grand Alliance. His reddish eyes met the eyes of the younger generation of Orcs finally coming into fruitition. Breaking the silence, Vakrigar let forth a laugh, some of the meat stuck in his teeth was now visible as his mighty jaws were opened. The younger warriors looked puzzled at the veteran, and once he had calmed, he simply shook his head from side to side. "You all are alongside me as members of the Warsong Clan, but do you truly know of your grand chieftain? Do you truly realize who Grom Hellscream really was?" At first, many of them nodded their heads in agreement with his words, telling him that they knew of the savior of the Orcs, and another laugh bellowed from those fit lungs of his. "No, you do not know of the true Grom Hellscream. Allow me to enlighten you." He had paused, reaching up to remove that wolf-skin helmet that he had come to wear at almost all times, the previous head of one of his faithful companions that bore him through many a harsh weather, and even harsher battles. "Grom Hellscream, our honorable chieftain, was a man who paved the way for not only our destruction, but also our ultimate survival. If not him, then it would've been another, and perhaps the other would not have had the courage, and strength of Grom, ultimately damning our people to be the slaves of the Legion forever. Now then, when you charge into battle, feel his strength in your arms! Feel his courage in your hearts! Do not falter at the sight of the Alliance, or any other foe you may meet! Our mighty chieftain remains with us, and gives us the strength to continue fighting!" At that moment, he took in a deep breath, before bellowing out loudly, "GLORY FOR GROM!" Large Orcish fists pounded their chests around the pyre, like drums chanting on the back of a kodo.
It was at that moment that their position had been given away to the agents of the Kaldorei who had been trailing the party as they had come south of the Ashenvale Forest. There were seven of the Kaldorei, and only five Orcs - outnumbering them with simple bodies. It was at that moment that the Kaldorei sprung into action, barring forth their moonscythes, and blades with murderous intent, and animalistic fury matching that of a blood-frenzied Orc. Vakrigar was taken by surprise, but roared loudly, reaching at his side to grasp the mighty Axefang from the ground, before letting forth yet another roar that would send chills down the spine of his enemies, giving him a chance to come to his senses about what was happening, before jumping into the fray. Already two of the younger Orcish warriors had been slain in the confusion, but Vakrigar was alert and at his senses now, not about to allow another one of his comrades to fall because of his inability to act. The Kaldorei had dived backwards, getting into a defensive position, and readying themselves for the worst now that the Orcs were alert to their presence, and Vakrigar charged forth into the group of the Kaldorei. As soon as he had barreled his body towards one of the Kaldorei, the others began to slice, and stab into his skin - the blood frenzy taking him over as he began to sustain wounds on his biceps, and shoulders - being that he hardly wore any armor at all. The rage flowing through his veins began to be eaten away by his blood, using the over-produced testosterone to produce more cells to heal his wounds. During the skirmish, there never was a point at which he was not yelling forth some inspiring war-cry such as: "FOR THE WARCHIEF!", "BLOOD FOR BLOOD!", "LOK'TAR OGAR!", or even "GLORY FOR GROM!". Upon yelling forth his previous chieftain's name, he swung his large axe around in a circle, using the momentum to continue moving his body in such a way, catching the Kaldorei offguard with the huge radius of his axe, before cleaving four of them straight in half with the movements. The surviving younger Orcs chased the now fleeing Kaldorei, while Vakrigar collapsed on the ground, panting heavily as he was now begining to feel the wounds he had sustained as his rage left his systems. At the pouch on his belt, there was a flask at which he reserved for only occasions of need, a flask given to him by that of a trollish Witch Doctor. He popped the cork out of the flask, and brought it to his lips - downing the contents completely, and only allowing a minimal amount to drizzle down his face, and into his thin beard. As the potion began to take effect throughout his body, and stitch together his wounds, he was brought into unconciousness, dreaming of his homeland again, of Draenor.
In his dreamstate of his homeland, he could see the beautiful scenery of what would become known as Nagrand, looking over the vast land, and seeing that of the other settlements about. His hut had been on the top of a tall hill, where he could overlook, and see clearly for miles, upon miles. In the distance, he could see one of the many Draenei temples that had been constructed for the beings known as the Naaru. On a shoddy weapon rack near the edge of his fence, there was his glorious axe, known as the Axefang. However, when he turned around, he saw his gruntling son, and was hit with a tinge of remorse for his inability to fulfil his promises to protect not only his blood, but his clan.
Instantly his dreamstate flashed blood red, and he was in the middle of the ruined Draenei temple of Shattrath. He turned around multiple times, and saw the devastation that he had been forced to commit under the influence of the demonic blood, and that of their war-party leader - Varok Saurfang bellowing out battle cries. It was too much for him to bear as he saw the things that had haunted him for so many years being played before him again, causing the mighty orc to fall to a knee, simply staring at the ground in rage. Then, everything became blurry.
Vakrigar opened his eyes to be laying on a sheet inside a hut in what he would find out later to be Durotar. He let out a disgruntled sigh, and simply shook his head from side to side, trying to forget the ghosts of his past, and to seal those old wounds once again.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No questions at all, but I am looking forwards to RPing with the lot of you.