06-12-2009, 12:19 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I've played more games than any one person has a right to, frankly. My tastes lean more towards the obscure, though. I've DM'ed 3.5ed D&D, messed around on some text-MUDs, and my current squeeze is Dungeon Crawl Stone Soup. I have a strong affinity for roguelikes, the first MMO I ever played was Lineage. I usually find myself roleplaying from my own moral ethos, which is usually lawful-neutral with some variations, and I make a concerted effort to avoid drama in all it's forms.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
America, my primary language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Friends, they recommended that I try World of Warcraft with them, but I quickly became disillusioned with the lack of community and decency on the official servers. I also played Warcraft 1-3 back in the day.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I decided to give WoW RP another shot, did some Google searching, read the wiki and looked around. It seemed well-thought out and put together, and it looks like things are taken relatively seriously.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy working in a group or a guild setting, or on an individual basis. I especially enjoy working with groups of people who are united by a common cause or goal. I am generally unassuming, not a follower, or a leader, but an observer and a commentator.
What are your expectations of this server?:
An environment conductive for roleplay, free from mary sues, and interesting people to spend time with.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I liked how you made an effort to prevent mary sues from appearing. Most RP communities either don't care, or embrace such cancer. I also like, as I said earlier, the seriousness I see so far. The efforts to prevent people joining simply to powergame or who would normally be uninterested in RP are also admirable.
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!:
Following the trail of blood, Hrothgar walked purposefully through the snow, "Better to let this one bleed out," he thought to himself. The tracks were enormous, and the bear had wreaked havoc on the elaborate system of traps he had devised in order to bring the beast down. He was not a hunter, but life in the wilderness required that one live by its laws, kill or be killed. Winter was coming, a hard winter; and without the meat from this hunt, he might not be able to survive it. As he marched along, following the tracks, blood, and broken foliage, one thing became very clear to him.
This one was old, very old.
The paths chosen by the great beast were less cluttered, and usually down-hill. The prints were unusually heavy and deep; telling of its great size and strength. As he drew nearer and nearer to his quarry, Hrothgar began to wonder if this fight would be worth it. Perhaps there would be other prey? Preferably less dangerous ones.
No. This was a choice between the possibility of violent death at the hands of a wounded, monstrous bear. Or a slow, creeping death by starvation. Also, it would be cruel to simply leave a wounded beast to bleed to death in the snow, the least he could do was to give it a noble death. Besides, the latter of his choices was not a fitting end for an old dwarf, he thought. In the distance, a labored, heavy breathing could be heard, he was drawing close. As he passed through the trees and underbrush into a clearing, Hrothgar laid eyes on the largest specimen of bear he had ever seen. The beast's fur was a beautiful white that blended nearly perfectly with the snow, save for a huge wooden pike jutting from its abdomen. Blood covered its flanks, and it seemed utterly spent.
Without skipping a beat, Hrothgar drew his two remaining throwing axes, uttered a quick prayer, and hurled one at the bear's shaggy maw. The bear stared at him incredulously, rose up on its hind legs, and swatted the weapon away like an annoying fly. As the bear bellowed out a thunderous roar, Hrothgar let fly with the second axe. This time, caught unprepared, off balance and mid-sentence, the bear caught the axe dead-square between its eyes, its great bulk crashed to the ground as the roar died down to a piteous moan.
Hrothgar waited, silently. He was out of axes, and these old ursa were known for their craftiness. He knew it was not dead, only stunned. Mist still formed in clouds above its snout, and from time to time a twitch could be seen. Knowing his fight was not yet over, Hrothgar drew his sword. The blade in many ways resembled its owner, it was notched, pitted and scarred, having been a veteran of many campaigns. It had never failed him, though, and in many ways had been his most constant companion. As the beast rose shakily to it's feet, Hrothgar took up his weapon in both hands and waited. He was a patient Dwarf, having learned through years of experience that victory rarely goes to the brash and hasty. He would gain nothing by rushing in and facing the beast head on, better to let it come to him.
The bear blinked several times, shaking its shaggy head back and forth in an attempt to clear its head. It staggered woozily to its feet and charged recklessly, desperately, hoping to end the life of the one who had wounded and humiliated him so. As it closed the distance between its intended victim, it rose suddenly and drew back a great paw, only to be stopped mid-swing by a cold point of steel that pierced its windpipe. It attempted to roar in pain, instead making a pitiful wheezing sound as it crashed to the ground, lifeless. Hrothgar rolled aside to avoid being crushed, unable to free the sword in time. He winced as he heard a resounding metallic snap, knowing what the fate of his trusted weapon had been.
With a feeling of deep regret he surveyed the situation, the bear was clearly dead this time, what little blood it had remaining was pooling beneath it into a great streaming red puddle. His axe was still lodged firmly in the braincase, and his sword had snapped cleanly, just above the hilt, the blade now firmly driven by the weight of the beast clear through its throat. Hrothgar sighed deeply as he took the hilt from the snow, memories of battles past filled his mind has he held its familiar weight in his hands and knew it would do battle no more.
"An omen," he muttered darkly. "Perhaps it is time I moved on."
"Well, the bear isn't going to skin and carry itself back to the lodge," he thought, setting to work at the grisly task. He was not pleased with this turn of events, but at least he would survive this winter. When the snows melted, he would decide what to do then. His life of isolation and meditation had benefited him greatly, but perhaps it would be wise to go into the world and see what could be made of it now, with his new-found knowledge of the divine.
Soon, he set off back home, carrying his spoils of meat and fur. He had also chosen to bring along the head, dragging it through the snow by the haft of the axe which he had been unable to dislodge from it's brow.
"This is going to make one hell of a trophy," he muttered.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No, but thank you for your time.
I've played more games than any one person has a right to, frankly. My tastes lean more towards the obscure, though. I've DM'ed 3.5ed D&D, messed around on some text-MUDs, and my current squeeze is Dungeon Crawl Stone Soup. I have a strong affinity for roguelikes, the first MMO I ever played was Lineage. I usually find myself roleplaying from my own moral ethos, which is usually lawful-neutral with some variations, and I make a concerted effort to avoid drama in all it's forms.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
America, my primary language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Friends, they recommended that I try World of Warcraft with them, but I quickly became disillusioned with the lack of community and decency on the official servers. I also played Warcraft 1-3 back in the day.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I decided to give WoW RP another shot, did some Google searching, read the wiki and looked around. It seemed well-thought out and put together, and it looks like things are taken relatively seriously.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy working in a group or a guild setting, or on an individual basis. I especially enjoy working with groups of people who are united by a common cause or goal. I am generally unassuming, not a follower, or a leader, but an observer and a commentator.
What are your expectations of this server?:
An environment conductive for roleplay, free from mary sues, and interesting people to spend time with.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I liked how you made an effort to prevent mary sues from appearing. Most RP communities either don't care, or embrace such cancer. I also like, as I said earlier, the seriousness I see so far. The efforts to prevent people joining simply to powergame or who would normally be uninterested in RP are also admirable.
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!:
Following the trail of blood, Hrothgar walked purposefully through the snow, "Better to let this one bleed out," he thought to himself. The tracks were enormous, and the bear had wreaked havoc on the elaborate system of traps he had devised in order to bring the beast down. He was not a hunter, but life in the wilderness required that one live by its laws, kill or be killed. Winter was coming, a hard winter; and without the meat from this hunt, he might not be able to survive it. As he marched along, following the tracks, blood, and broken foliage, one thing became very clear to him.
This one was old, very old.
The paths chosen by the great beast were less cluttered, and usually down-hill. The prints were unusually heavy and deep; telling of its great size and strength. As he drew nearer and nearer to his quarry, Hrothgar began to wonder if this fight would be worth it. Perhaps there would be other prey? Preferably less dangerous ones.
No. This was a choice between the possibility of violent death at the hands of a wounded, monstrous bear. Or a slow, creeping death by starvation. Also, it would be cruel to simply leave a wounded beast to bleed to death in the snow, the least he could do was to give it a noble death. Besides, the latter of his choices was not a fitting end for an old dwarf, he thought. In the distance, a labored, heavy breathing could be heard, he was drawing close. As he passed through the trees and underbrush into a clearing, Hrothgar laid eyes on the largest specimen of bear he had ever seen. The beast's fur was a beautiful white that blended nearly perfectly with the snow, save for a huge wooden pike jutting from its abdomen. Blood covered its flanks, and it seemed utterly spent.
Without skipping a beat, Hrothgar drew his two remaining throwing axes, uttered a quick prayer, and hurled one at the bear's shaggy maw. The bear stared at him incredulously, rose up on its hind legs, and swatted the weapon away like an annoying fly. As the bear bellowed out a thunderous roar, Hrothgar let fly with the second axe. This time, caught unprepared, off balance and mid-sentence, the bear caught the axe dead-square between its eyes, its great bulk crashed to the ground as the roar died down to a piteous moan.
Hrothgar waited, silently. He was out of axes, and these old ursa were known for their craftiness. He knew it was not dead, only stunned. Mist still formed in clouds above its snout, and from time to time a twitch could be seen. Knowing his fight was not yet over, Hrothgar drew his sword. The blade in many ways resembled its owner, it was notched, pitted and scarred, having been a veteran of many campaigns. It had never failed him, though, and in many ways had been his most constant companion. As the beast rose shakily to it's feet, Hrothgar took up his weapon in both hands and waited. He was a patient Dwarf, having learned through years of experience that victory rarely goes to the brash and hasty. He would gain nothing by rushing in and facing the beast head on, better to let it come to him.
The bear blinked several times, shaking its shaggy head back and forth in an attempt to clear its head. It staggered woozily to its feet and charged recklessly, desperately, hoping to end the life of the one who had wounded and humiliated him so. As it closed the distance between its intended victim, it rose suddenly and drew back a great paw, only to be stopped mid-swing by a cold point of steel that pierced its windpipe. It attempted to roar in pain, instead making a pitiful wheezing sound as it crashed to the ground, lifeless. Hrothgar rolled aside to avoid being crushed, unable to free the sword in time. He winced as he heard a resounding metallic snap, knowing what the fate of his trusted weapon had been.
With a feeling of deep regret he surveyed the situation, the bear was clearly dead this time, what little blood it had remaining was pooling beneath it into a great streaming red puddle. His axe was still lodged firmly in the braincase, and his sword had snapped cleanly, just above the hilt, the blade now firmly driven by the weight of the beast clear through its throat. Hrothgar sighed deeply as he took the hilt from the snow, memories of battles past filled his mind has he held its familiar weight in his hands and knew it would do battle no more.
"An omen," he muttered darkly. "Perhaps it is time I moved on."
"Well, the bear isn't going to skin and carry itself back to the lodge," he thought, setting to work at the grisly task. He was not pleased with this turn of events, but at least he would survive this winter. When the snows melted, he would decide what to do then. His life of isolation and meditation had benefited him greatly, but perhaps it would be wise to go into the world and see what could be made of it now, with his new-found knowledge of the divine.
Soon, he set off back home, carrying his spoils of meat and fur. He had also chosen to bring along the head, dragging it through the snow by the haft of the axe which he had been unable to dislodge from it's brow.
"This is going to make one hell of a trophy," he muttered.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No, but thank you for your time.