02-23-2011, 07:49 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
I'm not the biggest fan of waiting around for other people, but, if necessary, I do wait for others, such as in dungeons and raids. I prefer working by myself, unless the questing gets tough, and then I work with other people. I'm extremely personable, helpful, and though sometimes I can be condescending, that only happens when someone says something EXTREMELY stupid. I do what I can to assist others, so long as it won't result in extremely negative consequences for me.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm from the US, and I speak English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
A friend of mine kept talking about WoW. I played on his account, and got hooked.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I sought your server because of the role-playing element. I've already done plenty, from getting Tier 10.5 gear and Wrathful equipment, to defeating the Lich King, to becoming an All-Star in the first three battlegrounds. But now, I'm searching for an immersive RP experience.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Any role-play, really. I'm an actor in real life, so I'm able to conform easily to any situation given any persona, from the Lawful Good Paladin to the Chaotic Evil Warlock. My condition though is that I drop General chat, and that the Trade, Local Defense, Looking For Group, and Guild Recruitment chats don't include any general course of discussion.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is the Forsaken, due to their near-insanity, lack of hope, and desire to gain power, and my favorite class is the Warlock, since they're megalomaniacs, extremely survivable, and it was my first class I ever played.
What are your expectations of this server?:
To give me a reason to want to keep questing and playing WoW.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Reminding players to not become a god, but to actually have weaknesses. Good ol' humility...
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!:
Taelan Fordring looked at the approaching Paladin riding his War Charger, the Scarlet Crusade tabard over his shining plate-mail. He drooped one eyebrow, tilting his head in question.
"Are you the reinforcements from Tyr's Hand?" he asked, questioning this approach. The Paladin dismounted, and reached into a sack on the side of the horse, pulling out a small, decorative box.
"No," said the Paladin, "I'm just giving a delivery." He approached Taelan, and handed him the box.
Taelan looked curiously at the container. "What is this, soldier?" he asked, opening the gift slowly. With the lid blocking the vision of the Paladin, he sifted through the contents, examining what was inside. Suddenly, he grew paler, his eyes widening.
"This... this cannot be true. But all that you have shown me..." He fell onto one knee, his heart racing, the Paladin able to hear his quickened breathing. Taelan could feel the fury of ages about to be loosed on Hearthglen.
He put his head in his hands, and softly spoke, barely audible to the Paladin. "For so long, I have been a puppet of the Grand Crusader. What reason was there to fight against what the Scarlet Crusade had become? It has been decades, yet the memories of my father; those precious memories, they are what have kept me alive."
He looked up at the Paladin, hastily wiping his eyes. His cheeks had turned red. Taelan convinced himself it was only allergies. Taelan didn't have allergies. He sniffed, then continued.
"I have dreams, stranger. In these dreams my father is with me. He stands proudly at my side as I am inducted into the Order. We battle legion of Scourge, side by side. We bring honor to the Alliance, to Lordaeron."
The Paladin smiled understandingly. Taelan smiled back, standing up.
"I want not to dream anymore."
He walked over to the Paladin, and unsheathed his sword.
"Take me to him."
"I will," replied the messenger. The two walked over to the exit of the building. Taelan put his hand on the Paladin's shoulder, and stated, "I will lead us through Hearthglen to the forest's edge. From there, you will take me to my father." The Paladin nodded.
Taelan, upon seeing the first moving Scarlet Crusader, felt his fist tighten on his weapon. His jaw locked, his brow furrowed. He breathed heavily, and an aura of retribution took over him. The Paladin sensed this, and backed away ever so slightly. Suddenly, with a loud roar, Taelan charged the Crusader, decapitating him.
Another Crusader appeared, curious of the cry. He was run through by Taelan, and gagged up blood, unable to call upon the Light to heal his wounds. Soon, more and more Crusaders began to approach the area, only to end up struck down by the righteous fury that was Taelan Fordring.
"Remove your disguise, lest you feel the bite of my blade when the fury has taken control," he cried, and the Paladin willingly responded, removing the enchantment given him earlier. His tabard vanished, replaced with the one of the Argent Crusade, and his armor changed color and hue. He no longer appeared the Scarlet Crusader, much to his pleasure, considering how efficient Taelan was at clearing a path to the forest's edge from the Keep.
They exited Mardenholde, and Taelan called for a halt, summoning his own charger. The two Paladin mounted, and rode on, with Taelan chasing down some Crusaders to kill from atop his horse. After another false-Priest bit the dust, Taelan cried, "It's not much further. The main road is just up ahead."
As they galloped near a scout tower, a figure exited the building. The man's great staff and his hat revealed his rank and power. He spoke, "You will not make it to the forest's edge, Fordring."
Taelan came to a halt. The Paladin followed. "Isillien!" he snarled. He turned to the Paladin, and stated, "This is not your fight, stranger. Protect yourself from the attacks of the Crimson Elite. I shall battle the Grand Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You disappoint me, Taelan. I had plans for you... grand plans. Alas, it was only a matter of time before your filthy bloodline would catch up with you." Taelan scowled. Issilien spat in the dirt.
"It is as they say; Like father, like son. You are as weak of will as Tirion... perhaps more so. I can only hope my assassins finally succeeded in ending his pitiful life." Taelan tried to speak up in dire protest, but the Inquisitor continued, "The Grand Crusader has charged me with destroying you and your newfound friend, Taelan, but know this: I do this for pleasure, not of obligation or duty. Guards!"
The Crimson Elite approached in a circle around Taelan and the Paladin, the Scarlet Insignia emblazoned on their armor. The two dismounted, and, without warning, Taelan cried out in anger, charging the Inquisitor. His blade met barrier, Insillien protecting himself. The Elites attacked the lone Paladin.
"The end is now, Fordring," declared the Inquisitor.
The messenger-Paladin consecrated the ground below him. As the Elites charged him, they felt the holy energy burn their heels as they stepped into the circle. They connected with the Paladin's armor, only for a blast of holy power shoot up their forearms, making them stagger.
The first Elite was met with powerful judgement, and sent reeling backwards, only to have his skull cave in with a powerful hit of a two-handed mace. Another Elite tried to get the Paladin from behind, but the Paladin was anticipating such an action, dodged out of the way, kicking the Elite's leg out from under him, causing him to trip. A powerful blow was brought down on him, caving in the crimson helm on his head. Two Elites dead, three to go.
Two more tried to assault the Paladin at once, but again, they met with quick, painless deaths. The final Elite, hesitant to approach, was killed via exorcism. There was no honor in his death. Ironically, at the same time, the Inquisitor let out a powerful shout, crying, "Enough!"
The Paladin turned. He witnessed a mighty smite scar the son of the great Tirion Fordring. Taelan fell. He was dead. Insillien laughed softly. Wickedly.
"Did you really believe that you could defeat me? Your friend is soon to join you, Taelan." He turned, looking at the lone Paladin. Light energy started to crackle in his palm.
Charging from the woods galloped a white charger, coming to a quick and sudden halt between the two. He was smiling boldly. His eyes shifted an instant. He saw the corpse. He recognized the body. His smile vanished. He paled.
"Tirion..." whispered the Paladin, dropping his combat stance, letting his mace fall to the ground.
Tirion only blinked, his mouth open. "What have you done, Isillien? You once fought with honor, for the good of our people... and now... you have murdered my boy..."
The Inquisitor clicked his tongue. "Tragic. The elder Fordring lives on... You are too late, old man. Retreat back to your cave, hermit, unless you wish to join your son in the Twisting Nether." He pointed in the direction that Tirion had just arrived from.
Tirion turned red with pure hatred. He lifted his sword, pointing at Insillien, and declared, "May your soul burn in anguish, Isillien! Light give me strength to battle this fiend." An aura of light emerged around him, causing him to glow brightly. "Face me, coward. Face the faith and strength that you once embodied."
The Inquisitor readied himself. "Then come, hermit!"
Taelan charged on his horse, only to be knocked off from a blast of holy fire. He quickly got back up, and dodged out of the way of another smite, closing the gap between the two. Insillien showed a hint of fear, and too soon was the Paladin on top of the Inquisitor, his blade hacking at the shield conjured by the traitor. Eventually, the weapon broke through, connecting with flesh, drawing blood. Insillien gasped.
The sword went through his neck. He stopped gasping. The lone Paladin watched on in awe.
Tirion was panting heavily. He dropped his sword, looking at the headless body. He slowly shifted his attention to his son. Barely audible, he whispered, "A thousand more like him exist. Ten thousand. Should one fall, another will rise to take the seat of power."
He walked over to his son, and knelt down beside him. He rolled the body over, the holy scar a blemish on his perfect appearance, his eyes closed.
"Look what they did to my boy."
He wrapped his hands around the back of Taelan's head, and put his forehead to his own. His breath caught. He started to sob, small tears falling down his cheeks onto his son's.
"Too long have I sat idle, gripped in this haze... this malaise, lamenting what could have been... what should have been."
The lone Paladin started to tear up a bit, looking at this wretched scene. He slowly walked over to Tirion. He put his hand on his shoulder, and, slowly, Tirion laid the body of his son onto the earth.
"Your death will not have been in vain, Taelan. A new Order is born on this day... an Order which will dedicate itself to extinguising the evil that plagues this world. An evil that cannot hide behind politics and pleasantries." Tirion stood up, the other Paladin's hand still on him. He clenched his fists.
"This I promise... This I vow..."
The Paladin looked at him worried. "Tirion..."
Tirion turned to him, his face red with a mixture of sadness and fury. "The death of my son at the hands of these monsters will not pass without incident. Take solace in knowing that the Order is reborn."
Tirion turned, and walked over to where his weapon lay. He picked it up, examining the bloody tool. "I now take my place as Highlord of the new Order of the Silver Hand."
He cleaned it off as he walked over to his horse, and, realizing how much the messenger-Paladin had done, reached into his enchanted knapsack on the charger's side. "These possessions of my past - they are all that I have to offer for all that you have done. Please, take these as a symbol of my gratitude; all have served me well over the years."
The lone Paladin looked at these wonderful gifts: a ring, a cloak, a hammer, among other things. "Thank you, sir," the Paladin said, almost breathless.
Tirion mounted his horse, and looked down seriously at the Paladin. "May we meet again, in better times, and reminisce of days long past... battles hard fought... dreams redeemed."
The Paladin saluted. Tirion smirked. He rode off, into the forest, to return to his hovel in self-imposed exile, with the knowledge that before this day he was a hermit, and from this day forward, he was truly alone.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Ever heard of wowhead.com? Check out the L+RP forum!
I'm not the biggest fan of waiting around for other people, but, if necessary, I do wait for others, such as in dungeons and raids. I prefer working by myself, unless the questing gets tough, and then I work with other people. I'm extremely personable, helpful, and though sometimes I can be condescending, that only happens when someone says something EXTREMELY stupid. I do what I can to assist others, so long as it won't result in extremely negative consequences for me.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm from the US, and I speak English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
A friend of mine kept talking about WoW. I played on his account, and got hooked.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I sought your server because of the role-playing element. I've already done plenty, from getting Tier 10.5 gear and Wrathful equipment, to defeating the Lich King, to becoming an All-Star in the first three battlegrounds. But now, I'm searching for an immersive RP experience.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Any role-play, really. I'm an actor in real life, so I'm able to conform easily to any situation given any persona, from the Lawful Good Paladin to the Chaotic Evil Warlock. My condition though is that I drop General chat, and that the Trade, Local Defense, Looking For Group, and Guild Recruitment chats don't include any general course of discussion.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is the Forsaken, due to their near-insanity, lack of hope, and desire to gain power, and my favorite class is the Warlock, since they're megalomaniacs, extremely survivable, and it was my first class I ever played.
What are your expectations of this server?:
To give me a reason to want to keep questing and playing WoW.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Reminding players to not become a god, but to actually have weaknesses. Good ol' humility...
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!:
Taelan Fordring looked at the approaching Paladin riding his War Charger, the Scarlet Crusade tabard over his shining plate-mail. He drooped one eyebrow, tilting his head in question.
"Are you the reinforcements from Tyr's Hand?" he asked, questioning this approach. The Paladin dismounted, and reached into a sack on the side of the horse, pulling out a small, decorative box.
"No," said the Paladin, "I'm just giving a delivery." He approached Taelan, and handed him the box.
Taelan looked curiously at the container. "What is this, soldier?" he asked, opening the gift slowly. With the lid blocking the vision of the Paladin, he sifted through the contents, examining what was inside. Suddenly, he grew paler, his eyes widening.
"This... this cannot be true. But all that you have shown me..." He fell onto one knee, his heart racing, the Paladin able to hear his quickened breathing. Taelan could feel the fury of ages about to be loosed on Hearthglen.
He put his head in his hands, and softly spoke, barely audible to the Paladin. "For so long, I have been a puppet of the Grand Crusader. What reason was there to fight against what the Scarlet Crusade had become? It has been decades, yet the memories of my father; those precious memories, they are what have kept me alive."
He looked up at the Paladin, hastily wiping his eyes. His cheeks had turned red. Taelan convinced himself it was only allergies. Taelan didn't have allergies. He sniffed, then continued.
"I have dreams, stranger. In these dreams my father is with me. He stands proudly at my side as I am inducted into the Order. We battle legion of Scourge, side by side. We bring honor to the Alliance, to Lordaeron."
The Paladin smiled understandingly. Taelan smiled back, standing up.
"I want not to dream anymore."
He walked over to the Paladin, and unsheathed his sword.
"Take me to him."
"I will," replied the messenger. The two walked over to the exit of the building. Taelan put his hand on the Paladin's shoulder, and stated, "I will lead us through Hearthglen to the forest's edge. From there, you will take me to my father." The Paladin nodded.
Taelan, upon seeing the first moving Scarlet Crusader, felt his fist tighten on his weapon. His jaw locked, his brow furrowed. He breathed heavily, and an aura of retribution took over him. The Paladin sensed this, and backed away ever so slightly. Suddenly, with a loud roar, Taelan charged the Crusader, decapitating him.
Another Crusader appeared, curious of the cry. He was run through by Taelan, and gagged up blood, unable to call upon the Light to heal his wounds. Soon, more and more Crusaders began to approach the area, only to end up struck down by the righteous fury that was Taelan Fordring.
"Remove your disguise, lest you feel the bite of my blade when the fury has taken control," he cried, and the Paladin willingly responded, removing the enchantment given him earlier. His tabard vanished, replaced with the one of the Argent Crusade, and his armor changed color and hue. He no longer appeared the Scarlet Crusader, much to his pleasure, considering how efficient Taelan was at clearing a path to the forest's edge from the Keep.
They exited Mardenholde, and Taelan called for a halt, summoning his own charger. The two Paladin mounted, and rode on, with Taelan chasing down some Crusaders to kill from atop his horse. After another false-Priest bit the dust, Taelan cried, "It's not much further. The main road is just up ahead."
As they galloped near a scout tower, a figure exited the building. The man's great staff and his hat revealed his rank and power. He spoke, "You will not make it to the forest's edge, Fordring."
Taelan came to a halt. The Paladin followed. "Isillien!" he snarled. He turned to the Paladin, and stated, "This is not your fight, stranger. Protect yourself from the attacks of the Crimson Elite. I shall battle the Grand Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You disappoint me, Taelan. I had plans for you... grand plans. Alas, it was only a matter of time before your filthy bloodline would catch up with you." Taelan scowled. Issilien spat in the dirt.
"It is as they say; Like father, like son. You are as weak of will as Tirion... perhaps more so. I can only hope my assassins finally succeeded in ending his pitiful life." Taelan tried to speak up in dire protest, but the Inquisitor continued, "The Grand Crusader has charged me with destroying you and your newfound friend, Taelan, but know this: I do this for pleasure, not of obligation or duty. Guards!"
The Crimson Elite approached in a circle around Taelan and the Paladin, the Scarlet Insignia emblazoned on their armor. The two dismounted, and, without warning, Taelan cried out in anger, charging the Inquisitor. His blade met barrier, Insillien protecting himself. The Elites attacked the lone Paladin.
"The end is now, Fordring," declared the Inquisitor.
The messenger-Paladin consecrated the ground below him. As the Elites charged him, they felt the holy energy burn their heels as they stepped into the circle. They connected with the Paladin's armor, only for a blast of holy power shoot up their forearms, making them stagger.
The first Elite was met with powerful judgement, and sent reeling backwards, only to have his skull cave in with a powerful hit of a two-handed mace. Another Elite tried to get the Paladin from behind, but the Paladin was anticipating such an action, dodged out of the way, kicking the Elite's leg out from under him, causing him to trip. A powerful blow was brought down on him, caving in the crimson helm on his head. Two Elites dead, three to go.
Two more tried to assault the Paladin at once, but again, they met with quick, painless deaths. The final Elite, hesitant to approach, was killed via exorcism. There was no honor in his death. Ironically, at the same time, the Inquisitor let out a powerful shout, crying, "Enough!"
The Paladin turned. He witnessed a mighty smite scar the son of the great Tirion Fordring. Taelan fell. He was dead. Insillien laughed softly. Wickedly.
"Did you really believe that you could defeat me? Your friend is soon to join you, Taelan." He turned, looking at the lone Paladin. Light energy started to crackle in his palm.
Charging from the woods galloped a white charger, coming to a quick and sudden halt between the two. He was smiling boldly. His eyes shifted an instant. He saw the corpse. He recognized the body. His smile vanished. He paled.
"Tirion..." whispered the Paladin, dropping his combat stance, letting his mace fall to the ground.
Tirion only blinked, his mouth open. "What have you done, Isillien? You once fought with honor, for the good of our people... and now... you have murdered my boy..."
The Inquisitor clicked his tongue. "Tragic. The elder Fordring lives on... You are too late, old man. Retreat back to your cave, hermit, unless you wish to join your son in the Twisting Nether." He pointed in the direction that Tirion had just arrived from.
Tirion turned red with pure hatred. He lifted his sword, pointing at Insillien, and declared, "May your soul burn in anguish, Isillien! Light give me strength to battle this fiend." An aura of light emerged around him, causing him to glow brightly. "Face me, coward. Face the faith and strength that you once embodied."
The Inquisitor readied himself. "Then come, hermit!"
Taelan charged on his horse, only to be knocked off from a blast of holy fire. He quickly got back up, and dodged out of the way of another smite, closing the gap between the two. Insillien showed a hint of fear, and too soon was the Paladin on top of the Inquisitor, his blade hacking at the shield conjured by the traitor. Eventually, the weapon broke through, connecting with flesh, drawing blood. Insillien gasped.
The sword went through his neck. He stopped gasping. The lone Paladin watched on in awe.
Tirion was panting heavily. He dropped his sword, looking at the headless body. He slowly shifted his attention to his son. Barely audible, he whispered, "A thousand more like him exist. Ten thousand. Should one fall, another will rise to take the seat of power."
He walked over to his son, and knelt down beside him. He rolled the body over, the holy scar a blemish on his perfect appearance, his eyes closed.
"Look what they did to my boy."
He wrapped his hands around the back of Taelan's head, and put his forehead to his own. His breath caught. He started to sob, small tears falling down his cheeks onto his son's.
"Too long have I sat idle, gripped in this haze... this malaise, lamenting what could have been... what should have been."
The lone Paladin started to tear up a bit, looking at this wretched scene. He slowly walked over to Tirion. He put his hand on his shoulder, and, slowly, Tirion laid the body of his son onto the earth.
"Your death will not have been in vain, Taelan. A new Order is born on this day... an Order which will dedicate itself to extinguising the evil that plagues this world. An evil that cannot hide behind politics and pleasantries." Tirion stood up, the other Paladin's hand still on him. He clenched his fists.
"This I promise... This I vow..."
The Paladin looked at him worried. "Tirion..."
Tirion turned to him, his face red with a mixture of sadness and fury. "The death of my son at the hands of these monsters will not pass without incident. Take solace in knowing that the Order is reborn."
Tirion turned, and walked over to where his weapon lay. He picked it up, examining the bloody tool. "I now take my place as Highlord of the new Order of the Silver Hand."
He cleaned it off as he walked over to his horse, and, realizing how much the messenger-Paladin had done, reached into his enchanted knapsack on the charger's side. "These possessions of my past - they are all that I have to offer for all that you have done. Please, take these as a symbol of my gratitude; all have served me well over the years."
The lone Paladin looked at these wonderful gifts: a ring, a cloak, a hammer, among other things. "Thank you, sir," the Paladin said, almost breathless.
Tirion mounted his horse, and looked down seriously at the Paladin. "May we meet again, in better times, and reminisce of days long past... battles hard fought... dreams redeemed."
The Paladin saluted. Tirion smirked. He rode off, into the forest, to return to his hovel in self-imposed exile, with the knowledge that before this day he was a hermit, and from this day forward, he was truly alone.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Ever heard of wowhead.com? Check out the L+RP forum!