04-07-2012, 11:22 PM
Personal Information: I've been roleplaying for a little under a decade now. I started off roleplaying in sandbox forum games, where there were no mechanics but grammar and how well your actions meshed with what had come before. Obviously, starting from such a strongly narrativist standpoint has greatly influenced my method of roleplaying--I tend to care very little about OOC mechanics and very much about what creates a strong narrative tapestry.
I also played on the MUD Achaea for some years--roleplaying in a text-based game certainly helped me learn to look past the superficial and focus on what is being said, and what is being meant.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm a United States citizen, and my native language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
When I was a young warthog--er--child, a friend of mine played Warcraft II. I remember going on campouts in Cub Scouts (that's Boy Scouts for the very wee) and being regaled with tales of Uther the Lightbringer and the Dark Portal. I know now that the story I constructed in my mind was totally different from the actual plot of the game, but it was nevertheless a great joy to run around the woods fighting off Orcs. Later on, other friends discussed Warcraft III nonstop around me, and after saving up what was to my middle-schooled self a considerable sum of money, I purchased the game and its expansion.
It was quite the ride--I still remember the first time I saw the destruction of Dalaran at the hands of Archimonde, the first time I heard the pealing of bells as Arthas returned home with murder in his heart.
I couldn't afford a World of Warcraft subscription, but I paid rapt attention to the game. The fad passed me by, but in the past year I stumbled across private servers. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that among these private servers, a niche of avid roleplayers exists.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Various people have recommended CotH to me, though I don't know their handles on this server yet. I should probably ask them.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
The flexing of muscle and the badges of rank have never held any appeal to me. It's intrigue that's always held my heart--I enjoy politics, where words are daggers and rumors armies. That said, I'm not totally adverse to military roleplay; it's merely not my preference.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Rather ironically, my favorite race and class are an impossible combination--my favorite race is the gnome, and my favorite class the priest. Both have the capacity to be remarkably subtle creatures, and I find that both are virtually always underestimated. Tolkien's adage of small hands doing what they must while the eyes of the great are elsewhere holds particularly true.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
"These topics in ANY OOC channel (even /Adult) will result in a kick or ban: Rape, Racism, [or] Drug use."
I've found with unfortunate frequency that many servers choose to allow these topics free rein, on the grounds that to do otherwise would inhibit free speech. While I certainly respect the marketplace of free ideas, allowing these topics to be voiced aloud can cause distress to many people. I'm very glad to see that this community treats the issue differently.
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 met a hamadryad as I was walking home from work. She looked normal- by normal I mean “clothed in human flesh,” of course. It's not until you wrap up the shadows and twirl around the beams of light that you notice anything. I've always held that to be true, and it's no less so when dealing with the supernatural. She was sitting on a wall; I don't know why. I remembered the tales of my grandmother: always be kind, but be certain to be polite, and posies help. I had no posies, but it didn't seem like she cared: she smiled at me and kept swinging her legs.
“I haven't seen you before,” she said.
“I don't come this way often,” I replied.
“I know,” she said.
“Do you mind if I-”
“Of course not. Come up and sit with me; you can see the brook from here.”
The sunlight melted, as it always does. I felt myself bathed in the spiced barbs which it sent to transfix my soul. The shadows wiped away the bruises and cuts on my soul, and my sight was a flock of sparkles who wheeled once, twice, three times before finally rippling to a screen of vision. The world whirled, industrial pavement and bricks falling away to reveal the grassy meadow, bounded by forest. The wall was, as was to be expected, still there, rolling with the dips and peaks of the hills.
She laughed (at my clumsy technique, I am sure, though there was no malice in it). I turned to look at her. The trees, their branches moved about by the wind, rustled in my ear, although they were miles off, and I smelled the vibrant loam of the woods. Her skin was less green than I had expected, her eyes less crimson. Leaves and vines grew in her tangled hair, a lock of which she was idly twisting around her finger. Her nails, I noted, were wooden.
“Well? What do your eyes see now?”
I bent to pick three flowers and jumped up onto the wall, sitting beside her. “A posy.”
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Did that have to be a Warcraft story? Because I can write something up if it needs to be.
I also played on the MUD Achaea for some years--roleplaying in a text-based game certainly helped me learn to look past the superficial and focus on what is being said, and what is being meant.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm a United States citizen, and my native language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
When I was a young warthog--er--child, a friend of mine played Warcraft II. I remember going on campouts in Cub Scouts (that's Boy Scouts for the very wee) and being regaled with tales of Uther the Lightbringer and the Dark Portal. I know now that the story I constructed in my mind was totally different from the actual plot of the game, but it was nevertheless a great joy to run around the woods fighting off Orcs. Later on, other friends discussed Warcraft III nonstop around me, and after saving up what was to my middle-schooled self a considerable sum of money, I purchased the game and its expansion.
It was quite the ride--I still remember the first time I saw the destruction of Dalaran at the hands of Archimonde, the first time I heard the pealing of bells as Arthas returned home with murder in his heart.
I couldn't afford a World of Warcraft subscription, but I paid rapt attention to the game. The fad passed me by, but in the past year I stumbled across private servers. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that among these private servers, a niche of avid roleplayers exists.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Various people have recommended CotH to me, though I don't know their handles on this server yet. I should probably ask them.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
The flexing of muscle and the badges of rank have never held any appeal to me. It's intrigue that's always held my heart--I enjoy politics, where words are daggers and rumors armies. That said, I'm not totally adverse to military roleplay; it's merely not my preference.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Rather ironically, my favorite race and class are an impossible combination--my favorite race is the gnome, and my favorite class the priest. Both have the capacity to be remarkably subtle creatures, and I find that both are virtually always underestimated. Tolkien's adage of small hands doing what they must while the eyes of the great are elsewhere holds particularly true.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
"These topics in ANY OOC channel (even /Adult) will result in a kick or ban: Rape, Racism, [or] Drug use."
I've found with unfortunate frequency that many servers choose to allow these topics free rein, on the grounds that to do otherwise would inhibit free speech. While I certainly respect the marketplace of free ideas, allowing these topics to be voiced aloud can cause distress to many people. I'm very glad to see that this community treats the issue differently.
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 met a hamadryad as I was walking home from work. She looked normal- by normal I mean “clothed in human flesh,” of course. It's not until you wrap up the shadows and twirl around the beams of light that you notice anything. I've always held that to be true, and it's no less so when dealing with the supernatural. She was sitting on a wall; I don't know why. I remembered the tales of my grandmother: always be kind, but be certain to be polite, and posies help. I had no posies, but it didn't seem like she cared: she smiled at me and kept swinging her legs.
“I haven't seen you before,” she said.
“I don't come this way often,” I replied.
“I know,” she said.
“Do you mind if I-”
“Of course not. Come up and sit with me; you can see the brook from here.”
The sunlight melted, as it always does. I felt myself bathed in the spiced barbs which it sent to transfix my soul. The shadows wiped away the bruises and cuts on my soul, and my sight was a flock of sparkles who wheeled once, twice, three times before finally rippling to a screen of vision. The world whirled, industrial pavement and bricks falling away to reveal the grassy meadow, bounded by forest. The wall was, as was to be expected, still there, rolling with the dips and peaks of the hills.
She laughed (at my clumsy technique, I am sure, though there was no malice in it). I turned to look at her. The trees, their branches moved about by the wind, rustled in my ear, although they were miles off, and I smelled the vibrant loam of the woods. Her skin was less green than I had expected, her eyes less crimson. Leaves and vines grew in her tangled hair, a lock of which she was idly twisting around her finger. Her nails, I noted, were wooden.
“Well? What do your eyes see now?”
I bent to pick three flowers and jumped up onto the wall, sitting beside her. “A posy.”
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Did that have to be a Warcraft story? Because I can write something up if it needs to be.