12-13-2013, 01:56 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
Growing up, I wanted to be an actor. Now I find myself more comfortable behind the camera, but I still love getting into a character and acting out a role. I started at a young age with D&D 3.5 and other D20 systems, and soon started looking for any opportunity to Role-play. Though my groups "Forever DM", I enjoy it immensely. It gives me an even greater opportunity to act out different characters.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm an American, and proud of it, but I try my best to kill the arrogant American stereotype. My primary language is American English. Growing up in the south, I do have a habit of saying y'all, reckon, fixin' and other such bastardizations of words, but I know the difference between their, there and they're, and a whole slew of other grammatical rulings, so I think I can be forgiven those couple of trespasses.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I was a big fan of Warcraft the RTS, so when I heard the MMO was coming out I jumped at the chance to play as one of the characters I'd been controlling on screen for so long. Ever since then I've had a very strong connection to the World of Warcraft. It has remained one of my favorite games to play ever since I started playing, way back when.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
A good friend of mine, Fourohbro, told me he was joining an RP server and he wanted to know if I'd be interested. After a hearty Hell Yea, I made my way over here to see if you guys would have me on your server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I love all kinds. In my opinion it's as close as we can get to acting like kids again. When a stick could be Excalibur and our dog was both trusty sidekick and faithful steed. I will say I'm not huge on ERP, but that's just me. Tell me we're going to tell a story and enjoy ourselves though, and I'm your guy.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is far and away Orcs. Tauren are a close second, but at the end of the day, I'll choose to be a greenskin nine times out of ten. I love physical sports and things like boxing and using my fists has always come naturally to me. Nowadays I practice Taijiquan more often than I get in the ring, but I've always loved a scuffle. Proving myself physically has always been a joy. I guess that's why I feel so in tune with Orcs. To them, war and fighting are just facts of life. Asking an Orc to be peaceful is like asking him to not breathe. Of course, this is just how I play MY Orcs and is in no way the only way to play an Orc, but it's my favorite. By that little paragraph, I'm sure you can guess my favorite class too.
Recently I've switched more towards Monk, but since the server is still in Cata you can bet I'll be grabbing something heavy to swing at my enemies. Lok'tar ogar!!
What are your expectations of this server?:
Some good times with a friend and some more with people I've yet to meet. The fact that you guys are dedicated RP makes me very excited to join with you and have some fun and cool experiences with the people in the game.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Honestly, I find that your rules are fair, which is important to me. I've had one to many run ins with moderators or GM's who think that just because they can ban people at will they should do so any time someone challenges them. Nothing is worse than an internet tough guy who's been given a tiny modicum of power.
Did you know that we have a Mentor Program? It's entirely voluntary and you as a new player can sign up for it right now in your introduction! Are you interested in signing up to be assigned a Mentor? If so, say so here (Please enter at least "Yes" or "No"):
Absolutely! I find teaching is something I really enjoy, so taking someone under my wing in game would be a delight.
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!:
Slowly, he rose. The cool morning air was soft against Ar'gyles olive skin. He shook to free himself from the beads of dew that had begun to collect on his still frame. Still, he wasn't complaining. Scouting missions rarely yielded action, but the chance to set an ambush for the coming caravan was to good an opportunity to pass up. His Warbands leader, Krug, had given the command to stop here for the night in anticipation.
Now, as the sun crested the horizon, the sounds of men in armor and the heavy wheels of carts pulled by oxen were drawing near.
Krug quickly looks back to make sure all of his raiders are lying on their sides, half in the saddle of their wargs. In this prone position, with the sun rising behind them, the caravan wouldn't be able to distinguish the fur from the grass. The conditions were perfect. A quick exchange of words about who will claim the most kills is quickly stifled by a sharp glance from Krug. Ar'gyle smiles to himself. These young pups were always in a hurry to kill. For honor, glory, it didn't matter to the young.
Soon his smile turned into a bitter scowl. He'd done his share of killing. Good, honorable deaths all. He never once struck a low blow and he had never expected any quarter from his adversaries. Now, he was old. He could hear the grunts talking about him when they made camp. "Grey Beard", they called him. "Past his prime", they said. Worst of all, he had begun to believe them. As more and more enemies fell to his fury on the battlefield, he grew more and more concerned that he would never find the honorable death that he so rightly deserved. Was he to die old and frail in his bed?...
A slight disturbance pulls Ar'gyle from his reverie.
The caravan is in prime striking position. Krug gives the command, and silently all thirty of the warband rise onto their mounts. In an instant, they're careening down the hill. To late, the forward riders make out the oncoming rush of green skin and matted fur.
"Lok'tar ogar!"
As the distance is closed, the crash of steel becomes a roar. The forward riders are cut down before they even have their swords out of their scabbards. The following cart fares little better. Ar'gyle takes three men down in a single brutal arc as his axe comes crashing down on them. Here, in this whirling maelstrom of steel and blood, he feels at home. The sundering of flesh comes as easy to him as flight comes to the birds in the sky. The smell of blood and fear hang heavy in the air, and Ar'gyle is an avatar of war at the center of the conflict. A rider approaches from behind, thinking he has the advantage. With a sharp kick, his wolf rounds on the oncoming rider. Suddenly caught facing his enemy head on the human rider falters. Ar'gyle makes short work of him.
Ar'gyle, now free to engage new adversaries, begins to scout for a worthy opponent. Quick as a flash, he finds his target.
A single human in plate armor atop a powerful stallion is skewering several of his comrades with quick, precise sword strikes. With a bellow of rage Ar'gyle charges the impressive warrior. As the two come together, all around them are aware they're about to witness a true display of skill. Ar'gyle, being the more muscular of the two, leads his charge with a swing from his axe that would have felled a rampaging kodo. With a grace he had never seen before, his target is able to dodge the blow and assault him with a counter blow from her heavy steel sword. The cut is shallow, only enough to irritate Ar'gyle. Changing tactics, he begins to move in closer on his mount for a better angle of attack. Sensing his motives, the human rider moves in a counter circle so that Ar'gyle will have to come up short or run himself through. Though the arc is much wider because of this, he still feels his axe connect solidly with the riders head. Smiling in triumph, he realizes his mistake to late. Gods, he was getting slow.
The rider had simply shifted so that as the axe swung by it connected with the helmet. The axe bit into joint connecting the face guard to the helmet itself, and so the helmet was pulled almost harmlessly from the riders head. Now Ar'gyle was wide open with no position to maneuver, and no way to bring his axe back into play quickly enough. Was this to be his end?
As the helmet pulled free from his enemy, he saw that the rider had long blonde hair. Cool blue eyes. It was a woman. Ar'gyle had fought and beaten many men in his time, but had only crossed blades with a handful of women. In the entirety of his life he never gazed upon a human woman with such an expression on her face. Her teeth were bared in a snarl and her brow was furled in intense concentration. Every ounce of rage and hate she had for his people was clear on her face. Ar'gyle could almost feel the disgust emanating from her savage blow. In a word, she was beautiful.
Ar'gyle saw her strike coming. Unlike the first one, this would not be a shallow nick on his thick hide. Time stood still as her sword point drew closer. In his mind, he saw the whole conflict as if he were a third party watching from atop the hill. With the sun breaking through the clouds, everything was rendered in shades of red and orange. In that instant, they were as two motes of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.
Violently, the woman is thrown off course. Her strike goes wide, missing Ar'gyle. The shock on her face is priceless. She can't understand what's happened until she instinctively clutches the reins to gain control of her horse. Glancing down, she finds the warg clutching to her stallion, jaws bloody with the deep bite being inflicted on the horses breast. A quick jerking motion from the warg turns the horse, and both rider and mount go tumbling to the ground. As she strikes the ground the wind is knocked from her lungs.
As the woman lies gasping on the ground, she wildly reaches for her sword. It's only fallen a short distance from her, but with her leg trapped under the heavy body of her mount, she can do little but extend her hand and hope somehow that she's able to wriggle to it in time. Ar'gyles' heavy metal boot crushes her wrist, signifying that this fight, and her struggle, is over.
"You humans. When will you learn that when you fight an Orc on his hound you fight two enemies, not one?"
"fjit le yoe mybrtzi!", she spits.
"I have no way to know what you ask of me, and honestly I have no wish to. Now go to your God."
In a brutal arc, Ar'gyle brings his axe down upon the head of the prone woman. This time, there is no helmet to stop the blow. As he stands over the broken human, he notices a glimmer beneath his axe. A small pendant hanging from a chain is around the neck of the corpse. A fine trophy. And though he won't admit it, a small reminder of the beauty on the face of the woman as she was about to strike the killing blow.
As Ar'gyle stands from retrieving the pendant, he sees the battle is largely over. A single human is left clutching his sword and swinging it wildly in an attempt to keep his attackers at bay. With no effort Krug walks forward and snatches the blade out of his hand. With a simple flick of the wrist, the sword comes to rest in the chest of the last human in the caravan. Soon those who are left are pulling wreckage from the carts. It's all business. What can be used is stored away. What can't is thrown in a pile and set alight.
As Ar'gyle mounts up and pulls his hound away from the meal of the horse, he overhears several younger Orcs comparing kills.
As he passes near, an Orc with a sneer calls out, "And you Grey Beard? How many humans fell to your blade?"
Ar'gyle freezes.
"One day pup, you'll understand it's not about the lives you've taken. It's about having lived your life as best you're able and dying well. Continue to irritate me and you'll find that death will come to you all the swifter."
With that, Ar'gyle begins to move to the edge of the camp where the rest will muster once they're done stripping the caravan. Ar'gyle clutches the pendant. It wasn't today, but one day he will die well, having lived his life as best as he was able.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No, but if you have any questions for me fire away and I'll be sure to answer to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoy my story.
Growing up, I wanted to be an actor. Now I find myself more comfortable behind the camera, but I still love getting into a character and acting out a role. I started at a young age with D&D 3.5 and other D20 systems, and soon started looking for any opportunity to Role-play. Though my groups "Forever DM", I enjoy it immensely. It gives me an even greater opportunity to act out different characters.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm an American, and proud of it, but I try my best to kill the arrogant American stereotype. My primary language is American English. Growing up in the south, I do have a habit of saying y'all, reckon, fixin' and other such bastardizations of words, but I know the difference between their, there and they're, and a whole slew of other grammatical rulings, so I think I can be forgiven those couple of trespasses.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I was a big fan of Warcraft the RTS, so when I heard the MMO was coming out I jumped at the chance to play as one of the characters I'd been controlling on screen for so long. Ever since then I've had a very strong connection to the World of Warcraft. It has remained one of my favorite games to play ever since I started playing, way back when.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
A good friend of mine, Fourohbro, told me he was joining an RP server and he wanted to know if I'd be interested. After a hearty Hell Yea, I made my way over here to see if you guys would have me on your server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I love all kinds. In my opinion it's as close as we can get to acting like kids again. When a stick could be Excalibur and our dog was both trusty sidekick and faithful steed. I will say I'm not huge on ERP, but that's just me. Tell me we're going to tell a story and enjoy ourselves though, and I'm your guy.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is far and away Orcs. Tauren are a close second, but at the end of the day, I'll choose to be a greenskin nine times out of ten. I love physical sports and things like boxing and using my fists has always come naturally to me. Nowadays I practice Taijiquan more often than I get in the ring, but I've always loved a scuffle. Proving myself physically has always been a joy. I guess that's why I feel so in tune with Orcs. To them, war and fighting are just facts of life. Asking an Orc to be peaceful is like asking him to not breathe. Of course, this is just how I play MY Orcs and is in no way the only way to play an Orc, but it's my favorite. By that little paragraph, I'm sure you can guess my favorite class too.
Recently I've switched more towards Monk, but since the server is still in Cata you can bet I'll be grabbing something heavy to swing at my enemies. Lok'tar ogar!! What are your expectations of this server?:
Some good times with a friend and some more with people I've yet to meet. The fact that you guys are dedicated RP makes me very excited to join with you and have some fun and cool experiences with the people in the game.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Honestly, I find that your rules are fair, which is important to me. I've had one to many run ins with moderators or GM's who think that just because they can ban people at will they should do so any time someone challenges them. Nothing is worse than an internet tough guy who's been given a tiny modicum of power.
Did you know that we have a Mentor Program? It's entirely voluntary and you as a new player can sign up for it right now in your introduction! Are you interested in signing up to be assigned a Mentor? If so, say so here (Please enter at least "Yes" or "No"):
Absolutely! I find teaching is something I really enjoy, so taking someone under my wing in game would be a delight.
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!:
Slowly, he rose. The cool morning air was soft against Ar'gyles olive skin. He shook to free himself from the beads of dew that had begun to collect on his still frame. Still, he wasn't complaining. Scouting missions rarely yielded action, but the chance to set an ambush for the coming caravan was to good an opportunity to pass up. His Warbands leader, Krug, had given the command to stop here for the night in anticipation.
Now, as the sun crested the horizon, the sounds of men in armor and the heavy wheels of carts pulled by oxen were drawing near.
Krug quickly looks back to make sure all of his raiders are lying on their sides, half in the saddle of their wargs. In this prone position, with the sun rising behind them, the caravan wouldn't be able to distinguish the fur from the grass. The conditions were perfect. A quick exchange of words about who will claim the most kills is quickly stifled by a sharp glance from Krug. Ar'gyle smiles to himself. These young pups were always in a hurry to kill. For honor, glory, it didn't matter to the young.
Soon his smile turned into a bitter scowl. He'd done his share of killing. Good, honorable deaths all. He never once struck a low blow and he had never expected any quarter from his adversaries. Now, he was old. He could hear the grunts talking about him when they made camp. "Grey Beard", they called him. "Past his prime", they said. Worst of all, he had begun to believe them. As more and more enemies fell to his fury on the battlefield, he grew more and more concerned that he would never find the honorable death that he so rightly deserved. Was he to die old and frail in his bed?...
A slight disturbance pulls Ar'gyle from his reverie.
The caravan is in prime striking position. Krug gives the command, and silently all thirty of the warband rise onto their mounts. In an instant, they're careening down the hill. To late, the forward riders make out the oncoming rush of green skin and matted fur.
"Lok'tar ogar!"
As the distance is closed, the crash of steel becomes a roar. The forward riders are cut down before they even have their swords out of their scabbards. The following cart fares little better. Ar'gyle takes three men down in a single brutal arc as his axe comes crashing down on them. Here, in this whirling maelstrom of steel and blood, he feels at home. The sundering of flesh comes as easy to him as flight comes to the birds in the sky. The smell of blood and fear hang heavy in the air, and Ar'gyle is an avatar of war at the center of the conflict. A rider approaches from behind, thinking he has the advantage. With a sharp kick, his wolf rounds on the oncoming rider. Suddenly caught facing his enemy head on the human rider falters. Ar'gyle makes short work of him.
Ar'gyle, now free to engage new adversaries, begins to scout for a worthy opponent. Quick as a flash, he finds his target.
A single human in plate armor atop a powerful stallion is skewering several of his comrades with quick, precise sword strikes. With a bellow of rage Ar'gyle charges the impressive warrior. As the two come together, all around them are aware they're about to witness a true display of skill. Ar'gyle, being the more muscular of the two, leads his charge with a swing from his axe that would have felled a rampaging kodo. With a grace he had never seen before, his target is able to dodge the blow and assault him with a counter blow from her heavy steel sword. The cut is shallow, only enough to irritate Ar'gyle. Changing tactics, he begins to move in closer on his mount for a better angle of attack. Sensing his motives, the human rider moves in a counter circle so that Ar'gyle will have to come up short or run himself through. Though the arc is much wider because of this, he still feels his axe connect solidly with the riders head. Smiling in triumph, he realizes his mistake to late. Gods, he was getting slow.
The rider had simply shifted so that as the axe swung by it connected with the helmet. The axe bit into joint connecting the face guard to the helmet itself, and so the helmet was pulled almost harmlessly from the riders head. Now Ar'gyle was wide open with no position to maneuver, and no way to bring his axe back into play quickly enough. Was this to be his end?
As the helmet pulled free from his enemy, he saw that the rider had long blonde hair. Cool blue eyes. It was a woman. Ar'gyle had fought and beaten many men in his time, but had only crossed blades with a handful of women. In the entirety of his life he never gazed upon a human woman with such an expression on her face. Her teeth were bared in a snarl and her brow was furled in intense concentration. Every ounce of rage and hate she had for his people was clear on her face. Ar'gyle could almost feel the disgust emanating from her savage blow. In a word, she was beautiful.
Ar'gyle saw her strike coming. Unlike the first one, this would not be a shallow nick on his thick hide. Time stood still as her sword point drew closer. In his mind, he saw the whole conflict as if he were a third party watching from atop the hill. With the sun breaking through the clouds, everything was rendered in shades of red and orange. In that instant, they were as two motes of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.
Violently, the woman is thrown off course. Her strike goes wide, missing Ar'gyle. The shock on her face is priceless. She can't understand what's happened until she instinctively clutches the reins to gain control of her horse. Glancing down, she finds the warg clutching to her stallion, jaws bloody with the deep bite being inflicted on the horses breast. A quick jerking motion from the warg turns the horse, and both rider and mount go tumbling to the ground. As she strikes the ground the wind is knocked from her lungs.
As the woman lies gasping on the ground, she wildly reaches for her sword. It's only fallen a short distance from her, but with her leg trapped under the heavy body of her mount, she can do little but extend her hand and hope somehow that she's able to wriggle to it in time. Ar'gyles' heavy metal boot crushes her wrist, signifying that this fight, and her struggle, is over.
"You humans. When will you learn that when you fight an Orc on his hound you fight two enemies, not one?"
"fjit le yoe mybrtzi!", she spits.
"I have no way to know what you ask of me, and honestly I have no wish to. Now go to your God."
In a brutal arc, Ar'gyle brings his axe down upon the head of the prone woman. This time, there is no helmet to stop the blow. As he stands over the broken human, he notices a glimmer beneath his axe. A small pendant hanging from a chain is around the neck of the corpse. A fine trophy. And though he won't admit it, a small reminder of the beauty on the face of the woman as she was about to strike the killing blow.
As Ar'gyle stands from retrieving the pendant, he sees the battle is largely over. A single human is left clutching his sword and swinging it wildly in an attempt to keep his attackers at bay. With no effort Krug walks forward and snatches the blade out of his hand. With a simple flick of the wrist, the sword comes to rest in the chest of the last human in the caravan. Soon those who are left are pulling wreckage from the carts. It's all business. What can be used is stored away. What can't is thrown in a pile and set alight.
As Ar'gyle mounts up and pulls his hound away from the meal of the horse, he overhears several younger Orcs comparing kills.
As he passes near, an Orc with a sneer calls out, "And you Grey Beard? How many humans fell to your blade?"
Ar'gyle freezes.
"One day pup, you'll understand it's not about the lives you've taken. It's about having lived your life as best you're able and dying well. Continue to irritate me and you'll find that death will come to you all the swifter."
With that, Ar'gyle begins to move to the edge of the camp where the rest will muster once they're done stripping the caravan. Ar'gyle clutches the pendant. It wasn't today, but one day he will die well, having lived his life as best as he was able.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No, but if you have any questions for me fire away and I'll be sure to answer to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoy my story.