10-14-2010, 07:07 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
As a player, I started WoW doing what I only saw everyone else doing... PvP... PvP... and PvP. I played on multiple private servers, following friends around to continue hanging with them. I noticed though... I would only go for my friends, and nothing else. I do enjoy the occasional raid and duel / world PvP, but most of the time, I was wearing some "silly costume" and chilling with friends in the cities. This of course caused some to make fun of me and bash me for "role-playing." The only way to respond to such ignorance was ,"Don't take WoW so seriously bro. Just a game, have fun, don't bash people for how they wish to play." I always lend a helping hand to those in need, and in the process, I make many new allies.
I have the potential to defend myself, but I would rather not fight anyone, anymore.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States. My primary and only language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My uncle introduced me to it. I had not been interested in WoW at the start (I was in to Diablo 2 still.) but he allowed me to start a character on his account. Once I saw how beautiful the game was and how fun it could be, I quickly became addicted.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I have PvP'd for years now... and after a long time of the same old kill after kill, being top dog... it got boring. I wanted to do other things for once... WoW isn't all about killing everyone you see. Sometimes, I feel like just sitting down in the bars and talking with people about our great king Varian Wyrnn, or wearing a tuxedo and possibly participate in a wedding. (My past guilds always ruined those, which I didn't understand why they would want to... possibly just to be mean and immature.) I found this server through Google.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy journeys or just messing around. Challenges and feats of strength are always exciting to pursue. I do favor fellowship with anyone willing to be friendly enough in return.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human / Priest... no wait rogue... wait... paladin... no... mage... Hmm...
The race I can easily pick... but the classes to me are like my alter-egos.
Priest - The friendly, helpful, and fun side of myself.
Rogue - The sneaky, dark, and quiet side of myself.
Paladin - The holy, righteous, and lawful side of myself.
Mage - The intelligent, enigmatic, and wise side of myself.
Honestly, hard to pick one. If it was a life-and-death situation, I would probably... pick... priest.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I want to be able to interact with other people that want the same thing I do. I expect to hear wonderful stories and tales from epic heroes or songs written from the hearts of the pure and joyful.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Specifically, the ability to deal with issues in a rational, reasonable, adult manner. It means being able to have the clarity of vision to be critical and honest with oneself, and to act based on the greater good rather than the personal good. It means being able to rise above pettiness, and to recognize that some conflicts are simply not worth getting into. A mature player knows better than to get involved in a confrontation with someone who is griefing them or engaging in some other irritating behavior. Players in this community and on this server should be able to put their pride aside and respond appropriately. You should also be mature enough to realize that, due to the general lack of restrictions with RP, you may encounter or stumble across some R-rated events (whether it's language, violence, intimacy or something else).
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 don't tell stories... I restate legends...
This is a legend behind one particular man as well... a priest in fact... a priest with many scars and memories.
You would think a holy priest would be man of purity... a man with a clean conscious... you would assume that, but there is one that did not have what he desired, and because of it... he was corrupted. There are those priest that choose a different path and master dark arts and the ways of the shadows. Some would say they aren't even priest anymore. This particular priest I speak of, however, wasn't a man of the darkness... but at the same time, he was. Let me introduce you to him. He goes by the name "Vralkior."
Vralkior "was" a holy man. Some would say he still is... those that do only know the outside of him. There are a very few that know too much though. They know what pains him... they know what haunts him... endless battles... sacrifice... murder. The amount of blood on Vralkior's hands could well overfill the Arathi Basin. The screams and cries of pain and death can still be heard pulsing through his mind. Vralkior did not choose to kill these people though... in the beginning. At first, it was for his own defense and the aid of others. He still did not approve of fighting, but it was either he kill or be exiled. His only motivation and grasp of sanity came from his older brother and only remaining family, Baroktus. Baroktus was more bronze than brains, but in times could be very tactical. A hero amongst many and an idol to upcoming warriors; this was Baroktus ; anyone could tell you this. The man was thought to be immortal, undefeatable, quite possibly a god... this was thought of him for many years. He was not immortal. He was not undefeatable.
Vralkior and Baroktus were assigned to defend a caravan passing through hostile territory. They knew the dangers of the task, but were promised enough gold to feed them both for months to come. Being low on money, they both accepted. They would not be the only defense though, for many quickly offered their aid. Well... that coming afternoon, they made it to the half-way checkpoint in the expedition.The rest of the journey was through a forest and to the main roads. There were only 72 miles left to travel, but as the group was passing through a narrow path in the trees, an unnatural darkness fell upon the party. Vralkior and Baroktus were at the right of the moving caravan when the black magic struck the raid. There were 8 other men with them, all rookies fresh from the barracks. The air around everyone grew cold and an eerie fog began to descend upon them. Baroktus grabbed Vralkior's shoulder and whispered, "Stay close." As everyone began to panic, Vralkior caught movement out of the corner of his eye in the bushes and canopies. They we definately not alone. After about a minute of cries of confusion and worry... all sound seemed to die instantly. The only faint noises Vralkior could hear was his own heart racing and the horses pulling the caravan beginning to breath heavily. In almost an instant, Baroktus pulled Vralkior to the ground and swung the mighty battleaxe in his hands violently into the mist where Vralkior had just been standing... causing a disgusting sound only describable by "cracks and rips." As Vralkior began to lift himself from the ground, a round object gushing red liquid fell at his knees. By the time he realized it was the head of an undead, multiple cries could be heard from every direction. Baroktus heaved his axe back and bellowed, "Ambush! Defend the caravan!" Vralkior was yanked to his feet by his brother and drug to the side of the caravan. "Back me up little brother." Baroktus positioned himself in front of his brother and prepared for the worst. Battle cries were heard from every direction and the horses began to panic and kick wildly. At that moment, time seemed to rush forward as everything started to happen all at once. Metal and steel clashed against plate and mail; yells and grunts blended into an uproar of violent noise; blood and flesh was being destroyed all around Vralkior. He was afraid. Vralkior thought this assault may be fatal... possibly the end. Overcoming his fear, he raised his staff and engaged in battle. Holy magic and foreign ranged objects glided through the air like scattering bats in a cave. There were enemies coming from every direction in huge numbers. Baroktus ran forward, axe raised, and began to chop wildly at anything that stood in his way... even trees. He was in a bladestorm of anger and invigoration. As the warrior frenzied through the shrubbery and debree, Vralkior slowly advanced behind him, making sure to avoid being decapitated himself. Sometimes his brother scared him... but he always felt safe near him.
*I would continue but I'm no good at writing stories so... yeah... hope it wasn't too bad.*
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
When new to servers, I tend to be a bit shy and "to myself" for a while. It is how I always usually start when traveling to foreign lands. In due time, I meet people and find my family.
I also value the fact only accepted people may play on this server.
As a player, I started WoW doing what I only saw everyone else doing... PvP... PvP... and PvP. I played on multiple private servers, following friends around to continue hanging with them. I noticed though... I would only go for my friends, and nothing else. I do enjoy the occasional raid and duel / world PvP, but most of the time, I was wearing some "silly costume" and chilling with friends in the cities. This of course caused some to make fun of me and bash me for "role-playing." The only way to respond to such ignorance was ,"Don't take WoW so seriously bro. Just a game, have fun, don't bash people for how they wish to play." I always lend a helping hand to those in need, and in the process, I make many new allies.
I have the potential to defend myself, but I would rather not fight anyone, anymore.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States. My primary and only language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My uncle introduced me to it. I had not been interested in WoW at the start (I was in to Diablo 2 still.) but he allowed me to start a character on his account. Once I saw how beautiful the game was and how fun it could be, I quickly became addicted.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I have PvP'd for years now... and after a long time of the same old kill after kill, being top dog... it got boring. I wanted to do other things for once... WoW isn't all about killing everyone you see. Sometimes, I feel like just sitting down in the bars and talking with people about our great king Varian Wyrnn, or wearing a tuxedo and possibly participate in a wedding. (My past guilds always ruined those, which I didn't understand why they would want to... possibly just to be mean and immature.) I found this server through Google.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy journeys or just messing around. Challenges and feats of strength are always exciting to pursue. I do favor fellowship with anyone willing to be friendly enough in return.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human / Priest... no wait rogue... wait... paladin... no... mage... Hmm...
The race I can easily pick... but the classes to me are like my alter-egos.
Priest - The friendly, helpful, and fun side of myself.
Rogue - The sneaky, dark, and quiet side of myself.
Paladin - The holy, righteous, and lawful side of myself.
Mage - The intelligent, enigmatic, and wise side of myself.
Honestly, hard to pick one. If it was a life-and-death situation, I would probably... pick... priest.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I want to be able to interact with other people that want the same thing I do. I expect to hear wonderful stories and tales from epic heroes or songs written from the hearts of the pure and joyful.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Specifically, the ability to deal with issues in a rational, reasonable, adult manner. It means being able to have the clarity of vision to be critical and honest with oneself, and to act based on the greater good rather than the personal good. It means being able to rise above pettiness, and to recognize that some conflicts are simply not worth getting into. A mature player knows better than to get involved in a confrontation with someone who is griefing them or engaging in some other irritating behavior. Players in this community and on this server should be able to put their pride aside and respond appropriately. You should also be mature enough to realize that, due to the general lack of restrictions with RP, you may encounter or stumble across some R-rated events (whether it's language, violence, intimacy or something else).
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 don't tell stories... I restate legends...
This is a legend behind one particular man as well... a priest in fact... a priest with many scars and memories.
You would think a holy priest would be man of purity... a man with a clean conscious... you would assume that, but there is one that did not have what he desired, and because of it... he was corrupted. There are those priest that choose a different path and master dark arts and the ways of the shadows. Some would say they aren't even priest anymore. This particular priest I speak of, however, wasn't a man of the darkness... but at the same time, he was. Let me introduce you to him. He goes by the name "Vralkior."
Vralkior "was" a holy man. Some would say he still is... those that do only know the outside of him. There are a very few that know too much though. They know what pains him... they know what haunts him... endless battles... sacrifice... murder. The amount of blood on Vralkior's hands could well overfill the Arathi Basin. The screams and cries of pain and death can still be heard pulsing through his mind. Vralkior did not choose to kill these people though... in the beginning. At first, it was for his own defense and the aid of others. He still did not approve of fighting, but it was either he kill or be exiled. His only motivation and grasp of sanity came from his older brother and only remaining family, Baroktus. Baroktus was more bronze than brains, but in times could be very tactical. A hero amongst many and an idol to upcoming warriors; this was Baroktus ; anyone could tell you this. The man was thought to be immortal, undefeatable, quite possibly a god... this was thought of him for many years. He was not immortal. He was not undefeatable.
Vralkior and Baroktus were assigned to defend a caravan passing through hostile territory. They knew the dangers of the task, but were promised enough gold to feed them both for months to come. Being low on money, they both accepted. They would not be the only defense though, for many quickly offered their aid. Well... that coming afternoon, they made it to the half-way checkpoint in the expedition.The rest of the journey was through a forest and to the main roads. There were only 72 miles left to travel, but as the group was passing through a narrow path in the trees, an unnatural darkness fell upon the party. Vralkior and Baroktus were at the right of the moving caravan when the black magic struck the raid. There were 8 other men with them, all rookies fresh from the barracks. The air around everyone grew cold and an eerie fog began to descend upon them. Baroktus grabbed Vralkior's shoulder and whispered, "Stay close." As everyone began to panic, Vralkior caught movement out of the corner of his eye in the bushes and canopies. They we definately not alone. After about a minute of cries of confusion and worry... all sound seemed to die instantly. The only faint noises Vralkior could hear was his own heart racing and the horses pulling the caravan beginning to breath heavily. In almost an instant, Baroktus pulled Vralkior to the ground and swung the mighty battleaxe in his hands violently into the mist where Vralkior had just been standing... causing a disgusting sound only describable by "cracks and rips." As Vralkior began to lift himself from the ground, a round object gushing red liquid fell at his knees. By the time he realized it was the head of an undead, multiple cries could be heard from every direction. Baroktus heaved his axe back and bellowed, "Ambush! Defend the caravan!" Vralkior was yanked to his feet by his brother and drug to the side of the caravan. "Back me up little brother." Baroktus positioned himself in front of his brother and prepared for the worst. Battle cries were heard from every direction and the horses began to panic and kick wildly. At that moment, time seemed to rush forward as everything started to happen all at once. Metal and steel clashed against plate and mail; yells and grunts blended into an uproar of violent noise; blood and flesh was being destroyed all around Vralkior. He was afraid. Vralkior thought this assault may be fatal... possibly the end. Overcoming his fear, he raised his staff and engaged in battle. Holy magic and foreign ranged objects glided through the air like scattering bats in a cave. There were enemies coming from every direction in huge numbers. Baroktus ran forward, axe raised, and began to chop wildly at anything that stood in his way... even trees. He was in a bladestorm of anger and invigoration. As the warrior frenzied through the shrubbery and debree, Vralkior slowly advanced behind him, making sure to avoid being decapitated himself. Sometimes his brother scared him... but he always felt safe near him.
*I would continue but I'm no good at writing stories so... yeah... hope it wasn't too bad.*
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
When new to servers, I tend to be a bit shy and "to myself" for a while. It is how I always usually start when traveling to foreign lands. In due time, I meet people and find my family.
I also value the fact only accepted people may play on this server.