03-19-2012, 06:11 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I love intrigue as a roleplayer. I do not like to cause death, nor do I like to godmod. But to cause mystery and the general cloak and dagger, not physically, but politically and mentally. I love playing the anti-hero. The guy that does good things but for bad reasons.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
United States. English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Long story. Summary: A German guy (and I mean GERMAN) came to me in my work in the first few months that Warcraft came out. I had played Warcraft 3 but other than that was uninterested. He told me that we could make money playing the game and selling gold (this was when it was still legal to do so) so I was excited. Of course it was made illegal to do such things the month that I joined in, but I got addicted to it anyway.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
I quit WoW quite awhile ago and do indeed feel something missing. Mostly the community and the rp aspect of the game which I came to love. I was referred by Mia who knows of my plight.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy most of them/all of them really. They all have their time and place during different times of a character.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite class has always been warlock. I loved the idea of bending evil for your will whether for good or bad purposes. As for race my two favorites have been undead and Blood Elves. They are the darkest, most looked down upon by the other races, and I always loved the underdog.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I do not really have any other then a place to spend time and rp.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
No godmodding. I think this is the one thing most roleplayers, true ones anyway, will always appreciate the most.
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!:
A mouse scampered over the road, a piece of corn in its mouth. It was obviously plagued, scabs and puss-filled boils ravaged the entire small rodents body. It stopped for a moment, its fever ridden brain not fully comprehending the danger of being out in the open as it was. A hoof suddenly fell a centimeter from the little body, sending the mouse with a squeak not heard over the galloping horses running into the bushes. The horses themselves were undead, their skin, where they had it, was hanging off of loose bones. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and no breath escaped into the cold air of the Eastern Plaguelands. The reigns from their clamped teeth ran up into a pair of green hands, an orcs. He sat upon a carriage that held no marks, no signals of factional allegiance. His eyes were dead, cold, but he seemed to be quite alive as he drove his two horses forward over the beaten road towards The Undercity. Next to the large orc was a small figure, a large black hood over the beings head. Two glowing red eyes shone from under the hood, and sharp white teeth glowed under the bright moon above them. The carriage was stopped by the Forsaken checkpoint at the Bulwark, the gaurds holding up their hands, swords at ready as the carriage slowed down.
“State your business!” The captain said, approaching the carriage.
The orc said nothing, and the little figure kept its head bowed as it spoke. “We have come to sell our wares, sir.”
“I wonder... what is under that little cloak? A wee gnome perhaps?” The Forsaken used a spear to push back the cowl of the hood, revealing what seemed to be a Blood Elf boy, no older then fourteen. However, the boys eyes were not green but crimson, glowing around a pair of slitted black pupils.
The boy sneered at the small amount of shock in the Forsakens face. “I am Keaal Ar’Tok... and I desire nothing more then to sell my products. Here are my papers.” The boy handed the small booklet to the undead, who took them, eyes filled with suspicion. They were indeed stamped by the Reliquary stationed in Silvermoon. He had no choice but to hand them back to the boy and wave him on.
Keaal put the hood back over his head, and in the shadows of the cowl, his sneer turned into a primeval predatory grin.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nope.
I love intrigue as a roleplayer. I do not like to cause death, nor do I like to godmod. But to cause mystery and the general cloak and dagger, not physically, but politically and mentally. I love playing the anti-hero. The guy that does good things but for bad reasons.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
United States. English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Long story. Summary: A German guy (and I mean GERMAN) came to me in my work in the first few months that Warcraft came out. I had played Warcraft 3 but other than that was uninterested. He told me that we could make money playing the game and selling gold (this was when it was still legal to do so) so I was excited. Of course it was made illegal to do such things the month that I joined in, but I got addicted to it anyway.
What made you seek our server over others? (Or how did you find us?):
I quit WoW quite awhile ago and do indeed feel something missing. Mostly the community and the rp aspect of the game which I came to love. I was referred by Mia who knows of my plight.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy most of them/all of them really. They all have their time and place during different times of a character.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite class has always been warlock. I loved the idea of bending evil for your will whether for good or bad purposes. As for race my two favorites have been undead and Blood Elves. They are the darkest, most looked down upon by the other races, and I always loved the underdog.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I do not really have any other then a place to spend time and rp.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
No godmodding. I think this is the one thing most roleplayers, true ones anyway, will always appreciate the most.
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!:
A mouse scampered over the road, a piece of corn in its mouth. It was obviously plagued, scabs and puss-filled boils ravaged the entire small rodents body. It stopped for a moment, its fever ridden brain not fully comprehending the danger of being out in the open as it was. A hoof suddenly fell a centimeter from the little body, sending the mouse with a squeak not heard over the galloping horses running into the bushes. The horses themselves were undead, their skin, where they had it, was hanging off of loose bones. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and no breath escaped into the cold air of the Eastern Plaguelands. The reigns from their clamped teeth ran up into a pair of green hands, an orcs. He sat upon a carriage that held no marks, no signals of factional allegiance. His eyes were dead, cold, but he seemed to be quite alive as he drove his two horses forward over the beaten road towards The Undercity. Next to the large orc was a small figure, a large black hood over the beings head. Two glowing red eyes shone from under the hood, and sharp white teeth glowed under the bright moon above them. The carriage was stopped by the Forsaken checkpoint at the Bulwark, the gaurds holding up their hands, swords at ready as the carriage slowed down.
“State your business!” The captain said, approaching the carriage.
The orc said nothing, and the little figure kept its head bowed as it spoke. “We have come to sell our wares, sir.”
“I wonder... what is under that little cloak? A wee gnome perhaps?” The Forsaken used a spear to push back the cowl of the hood, revealing what seemed to be a Blood Elf boy, no older then fourteen. However, the boys eyes were not green but crimson, glowing around a pair of slitted black pupils.
The boy sneered at the small amount of shock in the Forsakens face. “I am Keaal Ar’Tok... and I desire nothing more then to sell my products. Here are my papers.” The boy handed the small booklet to the undead, who took them, eyes filled with suspicion. They were indeed stamped by the Reliquary stationed in Silvermoon. He had no choice but to hand them back to the boy and wave him on.
Keaal put the hood back over his head, and in the shadows of the cowl, his sneer turned into a primeval predatory grin.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nope.