09-12-2013, 09:27 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player: Hi! My name's Adam and I'm twenty-two. I've been playing roleplaying games since I had the mental faculties to do so, from dungeons and dragons to online forums, and have been playing video games for longer than I can remember. I love becoming immersed into worlds, building stories and plots, and creating something truly moving.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?: I live in the US and speak English primarily.
How did you get into Warcraft?: I've grown up on Blizzard games, starting with Warcraft 2, then a lot of Starcraft and Diablo 2, and now plenty of WoW and SC2. Also my friends were in the WoW beta and told me I had to start playing on release.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?: I've RPed quite a deal on Moon Guard for a while, but the quality just isn't there unless you dig around for it. I cancelled my WoW subscription because I couldn't justify the cost anymore, but I have been itching for some RP, so I did a bit of googling and found this site.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?: It's hard to say really. Some days I'd just like to write a scene where my character is laid back in the bar talking with like minded people, and other days I could want a horror-filled psychological plot with numerous twists and turns. Given the context, I enjoy almost every aspect of RP if done well with a few exceptions. I'm not a huge fan of fighting RP for the sake of it. Spars or duels don't interest me very much; I don't think collaborative writing is a good vehicle for that style. Another style I'm not particularly fond of is military, which I burnt myself out on during WOTLK.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?: I absolutely love Warlocks. The balance between producing a powerful spell and consuming yourself by powers too strong for you to control is just a really fun concept to play with. Dark plots have always appealed to me. As for races, I'm a fan of humans. Most people consider humans boring in worlds with many fantastic races, but I think it's interesting to see how the most relatable race in Azeroth responds to its bizarre and arcane surroundings. I can't help but root for humanity in fantasy settings.
What are your expectations of this server?: I expect it has to at least be better than Moon Guard, which is where I'm coming from.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?: I'm glad there's a rule about not typing using unnecessary acronyms, abbreviations, and emoticons. Nothing kills immersion more than that.
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!: Here's a sample from the journal of a warlock I had played on retail WoW and enjoyed a great deal.
Journal 1:
Journal 2:
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?: The site does a very good job of explaining everything, so not at this time!
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?: I live in the US and speak English primarily.
How did you get into Warcraft?: I've grown up on Blizzard games, starting with Warcraft 2, then a lot of Starcraft and Diablo 2, and now plenty of WoW and SC2. Also my friends were in the WoW beta and told me I had to start playing on release.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?: I've RPed quite a deal on Moon Guard for a while, but the quality just isn't there unless you dig around for it. I cancelled my WoW subscription because I couldn't justify the cost anymore, but I have been itching for some RP, so I did a bit of googling and found this site.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?: It's hard to say really. Some days I'd just like to write a scene where my character is laid back in the bar talking with like minded people, and other days I could want a horror-filled psychological plot with numerous twists and turns. Given the context, I enjoy almost every aspect of RP if done well with a few exceptions. I'm not a huge fan of fighting RP for the sake of it. Spars or duels don't interest me very much; I don't think collaborative writing is a good vehicle for that style. Another style I'm not particularly fond of is military, which I burnt myself out on during WOTLK.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?: I absolutely love Warlocks. The balance between producing a powerful spell and consuming yourself by powers too strong for you to control is just a really fun concept to play with. Dark plots have always appealed to me. As for races, I'm a fan of humans. Most people consider humans boring in worlds with many fantastic races, but I think it's interesting to see how the most relatable race in Azeroth responds to its bizarre and arcane surroundings. I can't help but root for humanity in fantasy settings.
What are your expectations of this server?: I expect it has to at least be better than Moon Guard, which is where I'm coming from.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?: I'm glad there's a rule about not typing using unnecessary acronyms, abbreviations, and emoticons. Nothing kills immersion more than that.
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!: Here's a sample from the journal of a warlock I had played on retail WoW and enjoyed a great deal.
Journal 1:
Spoiler:
In an effort to express greater control over mine erratic thoughts and feelings, I have decided to place ink to parchment and convey those errant thoughts without fear of amimadversion. Prone as I am to inward outbursts of emotion, perhaps this business of writing my current state of emotions will help to mediate them.
A journal, that's what this is. A diary to some, a log to others, but a journal to me. It is the seventh day of the sixth month.
The summer grows hot and fire of the sun reminds me of home.
------------------
Another day, another drink passes my lips and another day I assure myself my potion is not the poison I know it to be, but nothing else stops the pain. Nothing is as soothing as the warm cloudy haze that promises nothing of the future and demands nothing of the past. I float in a sea of falsehoods and I love it. The pain obliterates thoughts as they form, making me less sober whilst sober. A justification, surely, but the pain is all too real. Sometimes I would give it all away. Take the sacrifice back to become ... usual.
Though I know I would sooner die. My current employ is my only healthy distraction. Yes, at busy work with a major contender of the criminal underground counts as my healthy distraction, which bodes ill for my karma. But therein lies a minefield of justifications I shan't trespass in. New faces and new places surround me, which makes me feel quite alive. I love their stories, their laughter and face. Their scorn, occasionally, and their disbelief. Friends, I have made. Tenuous relationships too, which are all wine and orchestra to my senses. Were my life a story, I would be dreading the coming storm. But as the wind blows, I shall follow it. No one will say that Lesseda was too busy predicting doom to cherish a good thing while it lasted.
On the topic of predicting doom, my visions grow ever more frequent, but almost all of it takes place in a distant land. Perhaps the new threat makes a ripple in the sea of fate too powerful for other things to overcome. Maybe it is time to summon another omen. I fear that, as the last was not a pleasant thing. I still feel the red eyes judging me, waiting just beyond the veil of time, biding and ever watching. Just. Watching. I see it when I shut my eyes to drift into the land of dreams, waiting in the corner, humming lullabies and promising a swift end. Sometimes I wish it all away. But no, twice I would rather die.
When again I write in you, fair journal, mayhaps I will bring word of a better day, new life and a stronger self. I feel my own physical wants and needs tugging at my senses, and perhaps those too might be things of a past me. One of those is telling me to lay my head and sleep.
But he is still watching. And I can't make him stop.
A journal, that's what this is. A diary to some, a log to others, but a journal to me. It is the seventh day of the sixth month.
The summer grows hot and fire of the sun reminds me of home.
------------------
Another day, another drink passes my lips and another day I assure myself my potion is not the poison I know it to be, but nothing else stops the pain. Nothing is as soothing as the warm cloudy haze that promises nothing of the future and demands nothing of the past. I float in a sea of falsehoods and I love it. The pain obliterates thoughts as they form, making me less sober whilst sober. A justification, surely, but the pain is all too real. Sometimes I would give it all away. Take the sacrifice back to become ... usual.
Though I know I would sooner die. My current employ is my only healthy distraction. Yes, at busy work with a major contender of the criminal underground counts as my healthy distraction, which bodes ill for my karma. But therein lies a minefield of justifications I shan't trespass in. New faces and new places surround me, which makes me feel quite alive. I love their stories, their laughter and face. Their scorn, occasionally, and their disbelief. Friends, I have made. Tenuous relationships too, which are all wine and orchestra to my senses. Were my life a story, I would be dreading the coming storm. But as the wind blows, I shall follow it. No one will say that Lesseda was too busy predicting doom to cherish a good thing while it lasted.
On the topic of predicting doom, my visions grow ever more frequent, but almost all of it takes place in a distant land. Perhaps the new threat makes a ripple in the sea of fate too powerful for other things to overcome. Maybe it is time to summon another omen. I fear that, as the last was not a pleasant thing. I still feel the red eyes judging me, waiting just beyond the veil of time, biding and ever watching. Just. Watching. I see it when I shut my eyes to drift into the land of dreams, waiting in the corner, humming lullabies and promising a swift end. Sometimes I wish it all away. But no, twice I would rather die.
When again I write in you, fair journal, mayhaps I will bring word of a better day, new life and a stronger self. I feel my own physical wants and needs tugging at my senses, and perhaps those too might be things of a past me. One of those is telling me to lay my head and sleep.
But he is still watching. And I can't make him stop.
Journal 2:
Spoiler:
It is the ninth of the sixth month, early in the morn before the birds have sung their morning song.
I lay amongst evergreens and the whisper of the wind and yet my bucolic surroundings cannot beleaguer the demons of the mind.
--------------------------
Woe unto me, and was I who held the dagger. I knew very well from whenst came the crave to open that door. Justifications come crawling to my tongue as I think of the ways I could direct the play of past, but no, t'was stubborness that snapped the hinge. The wolf riders surely were no match for the combined efforts of my brothers-in-flight, but to tremble like a scorned rabbit would be to admit defeat. One of these days, it would behoove me to learn to lose for the sake of image and wellbeing.
Perhaps I make mountains of molehills, and no harm but the aforementioned demons of the mind will make enemy of me. I find strange acceptance in my methods amongst these slayers of men, however I know not if it is born of apathy or understanding. The Gray Knight took notice; ah she of the stony face and iron skin. She of the squinted stares who stands in penumbra, whose ship invariably sails apoint, incongruous to mine own. I feel as though she takes greater interest in my ideas than she thinks.
And yet fanciful distraction works as poorly upon parchment as brooding. The burning obliteration pumps with every heartbeat, thudding to the drum of hell. Fire that crackles and glows when I let it, the undying smell of sulfurous ash. Only at times like these do I remember that I am damned. Damned until my soul fizzles away and blackness takes me.
But surely I don't deserve that.
I lay amongst evergreens and the whisper of the wind and yet my bucolic surroundings cannot beleaguer the demons of the mind.
--------------------------
Woe unto me, and was I who held the dagger. I knew very well from whenst came the crave to open that door. Justifications come crawling to my tongue as I think of the ways I could direct the play of past, but no, t'was stubborness that snapped the hinge. The wolf riders surely were no match for the combined efforts of my brothers-in-flight, but to tremble like a scorned rabbit would be to admit defeat. One of these days, it would behoove me to learn to lose for the sake of image and wellbeing.
Perhaps I make mountains of molehills, and no harm but the aforementioned demons of the mind will make enemy of me. I find strange acceptance in my methods amongst these slayers of men, however I know not if it is born of apathy or understanding. The Gray Knight took notice; ah she of the stony face and iron skin. She of the squinted stares who stands in penumbra, whose ship invariably sails apoint, incongruous to mine own. I feel as though she takes greater interest in my ideas than she thinks.
And yet fanciful distraction works as poorly upon parchment as brooding. The burning obliteration pumps with every heartbeat, thudding to the drum of hell. Fire that crackles and glows when I let it, the undying smell of sulfurous ash. Only at times like these do I remember that I am damned. Damned until my soul fizzles away and blackness takes me.
But surely I don't deserve that.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?: The site does a very good job of explaining everything, so not at this time!