02-09-2011, 12:12 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
I'm a long time, relatively cheerful roleplayer who tries to branch out as much as possible, but ends up making fairly similar characters, in my opinion anyway. I like playing Dungeons and Dragons (4th, aka best, edition), or any tabletop game and read a lot of comics.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
United States. English
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Played Warcraft 2, switched over to Warcraft 3 when I came out and that's when I became really into the Warcraftian stuff.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I didn't, really. My friend kept bitching about this roleplay on this one server, which was, admittedly, pretty bad, although fun as hell. He kept recommending this server, so to sate him I decided to apply.
Hey. I'm honest.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Hanging around with friends, mostly, don't like roleplaying when I don't know anyone, but apart from that I'll enjoy anything.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human Avenger.
You never said it had to be WoW based class.
I like humans because HEIL HUMANITY, one of the most, in my opinion, interesting races due to sheer diversity and has no real cliche imposed upon them. I like Avengers because, in the context of DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS, they are like Warhammer Fantasy Witch Hunters/40k Inquisitors, they hunt down the enemies of the church and hunt down any paladins that have gone rogue. (Paladins don't fall, so if they leave the church they still have their powers.) Also, they FIGHT FOR JUSTICE.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm not entirely sure, lots of questing to get up to level, apparently, which won't be all that much fun.
So I guess my expectations are "not fun"
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The NPC rule
Just because they're Non-Player Characters, doesn't mean they don't have feelings.
Rest in peace, all my dead DnD NPC characters
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!:
Justice. One simple word. Justice. Justice that has not been given to the masses. Absent Justice. Lack of Justice. There is no more Justice in this town. Only fear, and destruction. They were promised by their lord that they would be protected in return for their fealty, but he provided them none. This town near the North, where the legendary mountains protected a hidden civilization as fiercely as it's people. This town did not even have a name. It did not have a tavern. It did not have an inn. It just had families. People. No one traveled here, not on purpose anyway. It was relatively peaceful, until a war between two nations started, this village, this innocent town, was on the border.
They never stood a chance, they were trampled by an army, they couldn't defend themselves. The people were told they were conquered. Any that resisted were killed, no questions asked. Most of the males were forced into the army, several of the women too. These were times of war, after all. Then the vultures came, searching for any easy to take riches or anything that might net them money. No one cared about this town, not the lord who had lost it or the people who had just taken it, so the raiders came in and took it. Any traveler that happened upon this town were also taken, all forced into a live of some fashion of servitude. But that would stand no more. One day, a man walked into town. No one knew who he was. Not the bandits, not the peasants. He wore all white cloth, and a strange looking white helmet upon his head. They could not even see his eyes, he was as a ghost. The bandits assumed he was one of the peasants, and the peasants assumed he was one of the bandits. But he was not here for work or for raiding.
He was here for Justice.
He walked up to one of the bandits and took his sword, before the bandit could scream for help, the blade slashed through his brachial artery. The bandit died before the two minute mark. The peasants just stared, all caught in one sudden inbreath, perhaps to scream in fear or scream in delight. Two more of the vultures were nearby however and charged the man, thinking him just some upstart peasant. They were wrong. It seemed like his legs were powered by a raging river, he moved so quickly, before the bandits knew it, he was upon them. His blade was true with each strike. The first raider was hit in the carotid artery. Death in twelve seconds. The second was more lucky. Subclavian artery. Dead before he lay completely on the ground. Everything about this man was unnatural, even as the small unit of bandits, about 15, 18 before, set upon him, it seemed as if his breath smelled like something completely unnatural. Some sort of mineral. He looked like he was being overwhelmed, but after every push forwards, the bandits actually retreated back. Eventually they called for the crossbows... But then, a carriage came into sight. Before they could discover what the carriage was or even fire, they were run over. Those that weren't dead wish they were, their bones crippled and organs leaking of fluids. Then, on the strange carriage, the visitor disappeared as quickly as he appeared. The peasants still talk about him to this very day, not that they have much else to talk about. Some say that beneath the suit, he was coalesced justice and that, like justice, he was actually blind.
All we know is... He's called the Stig.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I think I've destroyed my chances enough, thank you.
I'm a long time, relatively cheerful roleplayer who tries to branch out as much as possible, but ends up making fairly similar characters, in my opinion anyway. I like playing Dungeons and Dragons (4th, aka best, edition), or any tabletop game and read a lot of comics.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
United States. English
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Played Warcraft 2, switched over to Warcraft 3 when I came out and that's when I became really into the Warcraftian stuff.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I didn't, really. My friend kept bitching about this roleplay on this one server, which was, admittedly, pretty bad, although fun as hell. He kept recommending this server, so to sate him I decided to apply.
Hey. I'm honest.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Hanging around with friends, mostly, don't like roleplaying when I don't know anyone, but apart from that I'll enjoy anything.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Human Avenger.
You never said it had to be WoW based class.
I like humans because HEIL HUMANITY, one of the most, in my opinion, interesting races due to sheer diversity and has no real cliche imposed upon them. I like Avengers because, in the context of DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS, they are like Warhammer Fantasy Witch Hunters/40k Inquisitors, they hunt down the enemies of the church and hunt down any paladins that have gone rogue. (Paladins don't fall, so if they leave the church they still have their powers.) Also, they FIGHT FOR JUSTICE.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm not entirely sure, lots of questing to get up to level, apparently, which won't be all that much fun.
So I guess my expectations are "not fun"
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The NPC rule
Just because they're Non-Player Characters, doesn't mean they don't have feelings.
Rest in peace, all my dead DnD NPC characters
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!:
Justice. One simple word. Justice. Justice that has not been given to the masses. Absent Justice. Lack of Justice. There is no more Justice in this town. Only fear, and destruction. They were promised by their lord that they would be protected in return for their fealty, but he provided them none. This town near the North, where the legendary mountains protected a hidden civilization as fiercely as it's people. This town did not even have a name. It did not have a tavern. It did not have an inn. It just had families. People. No one traveled here, not on purpose anyway. It was relatively peaceful, until a war between two nations started, this village, this innocent town, was on the border.
They never stood a chance, they were trampled by an army, they couldn't defend themselves. The people were told they were conquered. Any that resisted were killed, no questions asked. Most of the males were forced into the army, several of the women too. These were times of war, after all. Then the vultures came, searching for any easy to take riches or anything that might net them money. No one cared about this town, not the lord who had lost it or the people who had just taken it, so the raiders came in and took it. Any traveler that happened upon this town were also taken, all forced into a live of some fashion of servitude. But that would stand no more. One day, a man walked into town. No one knew who he was. Not the bandits, not the peasants. He wore all white cloth, and a strange looking white helmet upon his head. They could not even see his eyes, he was as a ghost. The bandits assumed he was one of the peasants, and the peasants assumed he was one of the bandits. But he was not here for work or for raiding.
He was here for Justice.
He walked up to one of the bandits and took his sword, before the bandit could scream for help, the blade slashed through his brachial artery. The bandit died before the two minute mark. The peasants just stared, all caught in one sudden inbreath, perhaps to scream in fear or scream in delight. Two more of the vultures were nearby however and charged the man, thinking him just some upstart peasant. They were wrong. It seemed like his legs were powered by a raging river, he moved so quickly, before the bandits knew it, he was upon them. His blade was true with each strike. The first raider was hit in the carotid artery. Death in twelve seconds. The second was more lucky. Subclavian artery. Dead before he lay completely on the ground. Everything about this man was unnatural, even as the small unit of bandits, about 15, 18 before, set upon him, it seemed as if his breath smelled like something completely unnatural. Some sort of mineral. He looked like he was being overwhelmed, but after every push forwards, the bandits actually retreated back. Eventually they called for the crossbows... But then, a carriage came into sight. Before they could discover what the carriage was or even fire, they were run over. Those that weren't dead wish they were, their bones crippled and organs leaking of fluids. Then, on the strange carriage, the visitor disappeared as quickly as he appeared. The peasants still talk about him to this very day, not that they have much else to talk about. Some say that beneath the suit, he was coalesced justice and that, like justice, he was actually blind.
All we know is... He's called the Stig.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I think I've destroyed my chances enough, thank you.