11-16-2010, 03:59 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
My real name is Ilan and im 14 years old.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from Israel,i speak English and Russian
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I have played Warcraft since i was 5 years old.
I played all of the RST games starting at warcraft 3
and always wanted warcraft.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I love the warcraft lore and hevy RPing. I found you guys on google.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I love long trem roleplay and action roleplay, you will rarly find me out of characters.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race would be Orc because i love their history i spent nights and days reading their lore.
My favorite class would be Mage because of their control over the elements.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I am hoping to find a good roleplaying community where all the players understand their characters and at least knoew the basic lore.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I like how maturity is handled.I now believe that immaturity anywhere is just annoying.
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!:
It was luck. He didn't dodge the axe, the axe merely missed. But the footman took advantage of this luck and now the orc was on the floor.
Dead? No, not dead, but judging by the growing pool of blood, the battle was as good as over. He had been outmatched, the orc's immense strength far greater than his own, but by mere luck he had won out. It was not an honourable kill, and so he would let his enemy live. Was that so wrong?
He looked the orc in the eyes to try to convey his intent. The fight shouldn't have ended this way, and they both knew it. It was mercy of a sort, but mostly it was a sense of honor. What is a warrior without honor, anyway? Their eyes met and the human tried desperately to let the orc see his point of view, but the expression he got in return was incomprehensible. The orc's face showed no gratitude nor even any relief. Instead he seemed to be waiting, impatient!
The footman sighed and sheathed his sword, mind full of dissapointed thoughts. He walked towards the exit of Warsong hold, to follow the prisoners he had freed.
"Coward."
Steel-toed boots halted and turned quickly about.
"You speak Common?!"
"I speak. I speak not with cowards. Run away, you?"
Perhaps he misunderstood the orc's broken common, for this didn't make any more sense than the anger in his eyes. "I leave, but the battle is over-"
"BATTLE NOT OVER! I not surender, I DIE before surrender! LOK'TAR OGAR!"
The last words, though orcish, the human had heard before. Every orc seemed to have the phrase on their lips. The words that allow an orc to value an honorable death over an honorable life. The words that lead to a suicide attack. Like this one. Blood continued to seep through the orc's battle-harness as he struggled back to his knees. His face showed no emotion any longer, only grim determination. The human watched, disgusted, as the grunt slowly killed himself with the effort of crawling towards his axe, coughing blood onto the dirt. Just before the green hand reached the hilt, the weapon was kicked away by an armored foot. The warrior of the new horde immediately began crawling towards the axe's new resting place.
"Stop struggling or you'll finish yourself off. That wound is only mortal if you make it so."
"Then I 'make it so' for honorable death! Die with honor!"
And with the twisted use of the word honor, the footman could no longer bear to watch and walked away. He heard behind him the scuffles and groans of the orc's continued struggle and no longer cared. But then he heard another noise: light footsteps, and angry sobs. Then two voices in orcish, one the voice of the dying grunt and the other... the voice of a small boy.
Once more, steel-toed boots halted and turned about. The torches set along the hallway seemed to blaze higher and illuminate the scene as well as cast even darker shadows across the widening eyes that beheld it. A young orc, still a child, was kneeling before what was apparently his dying father, and the dying orc... was handing his son his axe, murmuring unmistakable war-cries and glancing angrily at the human. With a roar that nearly made his voice break, the child grabbed the axe and ran forth. The steel-clad man knocked him aside angrily and took the weapon.
"WHAT THE NETHER DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!"
The orc seemed satisfied that he had finally invoked the human's ire. "Boy die. Boy die for freedom."
Images of his own son back home caused the Alliance warrior to go into a frenzy. "That's SICK. That's SICK AND WRONG. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! That's all you do and all you think of, and its all you teach your DAMN CHILDREN!! You orcs, you're... I don't know what to call you! You've brought up your children to crave blood as much as you do! Every last one of them! But what if I want my son to be a blacksmith or a tailor? HE CAN'T. He must join the ARMY because we're too scared of your entire culture... entire RACE of warriors!"
The orc smiled. "Human scared. Human not honorable. To die in battle is honor."
"THAT IS NOT HONOR, DAMN YOU! You... YOU MONSTER!" And finally losing it, the man brought the stolen axe down on the orc's head.
The child screamed and lunged at him, swinging his tiny fists ineffectually at the steel armor. And even as he left Warsong hold he could hear the boy yell after him: "Human pay! I make human dead! I make human dead or die! LOK'TAR OGAR!!"
Lok'tar Ogar. Victory or Death. In other words, kill or be killed.
This is my favorite story I have ever writin and i was my 3erd. Hope you like it
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I have made a few mistakes last time and lots of grammer errors but I improved my grammer it was hard for me but I have improved and I would really like to join this RP server.
My real name is Ilan and im 14 years old.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from Israel,i speak English and Russian
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I have played Warcraft since i was 5 years old.
I played all of the RST games starting at warcraft 3
and always wanted warcraft.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I love the warcraft lore and hevy RPing. I found you guys on google.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I love long trem roleplay and action roleplay, you will rarly find me out of characters.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race would be Orc because i love their history i spent nights and days reading their lore.
My favorite class would be Mage because of their control over the elements.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I am hoping to find a good roleplaying community where all the players understand their characters and at least knoew the basic lore.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I like how maturity is handled.I now believe that immaturity anywhere is just annoying.
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!:
It was luck. He didn't dodge the axe, the axe merely missed. But the footman took advantage of this luck and now the orc was on the floor.
Dead? No, not dead, but judging by the growing pool of blood, the battle was as good as over. He had been outmatched, the orc's immense strength far greater than his own, but by mere luck he had won out. It was not an honourable kill, and so he would let his enemy live. Was that so wrong?
He looked the orc in the eyes to try to convey his intent. The fight shouldn't have ended this way, and they both knew it. It was mercy of a sort, but mostly it was a sense of honor. What is a warrior without honor, anyway? Their eyes met and the human tried desperately to let the orc see his point of view, but the expression he got in return was incomprehensible. The orc's face showed no gratitude nor even any relief. Instead he seemed to be waiting, impatient!
The footman sighed and sheathed his sword, mind full of dissapointed thoughts. He walked towards the exit of Warsong hold, to follow the prisoners he had freed.
"Coward."
Steel-toed boots halted and turned quickly about.
"You speak Common?!"
"I speak. I speak not with cowards. Run away, you?"
Perhaps he misunderstood the orc's broken common, for this didn't make any more sense than the anger in his eyes. "I leave, but the battle is over-"
"BATTLE NOT OVER! I not surender, I DIE before surrender! LOK'TAR OGAR!"
The last words, though orcish, the human had heard before. Every orc seemed to have the phrase on their lips. The words that allow an orc to value an honorable death over an honorable life. The words that lead to a suicide attack. Like this one. Blood continued to seep through the orc's battle-harness as he struggled back to his knees. His face showed no emotion any longer, only grim determination. The human watched, disgusted, as the grunt slowly killed himself with the effort of crawling towards his axe, coughing blood onto the dirt. Just before the green hand reached the hilt, the weapon was kicked away by an armored foot. The warrior of the new horde immediately began crawling towards the axe's new resting place.
"Stop struggling or you'll finish yourself off. That wound is only mortal if you make it so."
"Then I 'make it so' for honorable death! Die with honor!"
And with the twisted use of the word honor, the footman could no longer bear to watch and walked away. He heard behind him the scuffles and groans of the orc's continued struggle and no longer cared. But then he heard another noise: light footsteps, and angry sobs. Then two voices in orcish, one the voice of the dying grunt and the other... the voice of a small boy.
Once more, steel-toed boots halted and turned about. The torches set along the hallway seemed to blaze higher and illuminate the scene as well as cast even darker shadows across the widening eyes that beheld it. A young orc, still a child, was kneeling before what was apparently his dying father, and the dying orc... was handing his son his axe, murmuring unmistakable war-cries and glancing angrily at the human. With a roar that nearly made his voice break, the child grabbed the axe and ran forth. The steel-clad man knocked him aside angrily and took the weapon.
"WHAT THE NETHER DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!"
The orc seemed satisfied that he had finally invoked the human's ire. "Boy die. Boy die for freedom."
Images of his own son back home caused the Alliance warrior to go into a frenzy. "That's SICK. That's SICK AND WRONG. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! That's all you do and all you think of, and its all you teach your DAMN CHILDREN!! You orcs, you're... I don't know what to call you! You've brought up your children to crave blood as much as you do! Every last one of them! But what if I want my son to be a blacksmith or a tailor? HE CAN'T. He must join the ARMY because we're too scared of your entire culture... entire RACE of warriors!"
The orc smiled. "Human scared. Human not honorable. To die in battle is honor."
"THAT IS NOT HONOR, DAMN YOU! You... YOU MONSTER!" And finally losing it, the man brought the stolen axe down on the orc's head.
The child screamed and lunged at him, swinging his tiny fists ineffectually at the steel armor. And even as he left Warsong hold he could hear the boy yell after him: "Human pay! I make human dead! I make human dead or die! LOK'TAR OGAR!!"
Lok'tar Ogar. Victory or Death. In other words, kill or be killed.
This is my favorite story I have ever writin and i was my 3erd. Hope you like it
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I have made a few mistakes last time and lots of grammer errors but I improved my grammer it was hard for me but I have improved and I would really like to join this RP server.