07-27-2009, 08:05 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player: I'm Killabreu. I'll usually play the 'bad guy' role, which I've learned to fit very nicely, compliments to The Specialists Roleplay. I started RPing about five years ago in The Specialists RP, which can be quite crazy at times. For example, the most powerful group that ever existed on any server, was a group of National Socialists who walked the streets in all black trenchcoats, with helmets and gasmasks. I try to remember my first character, and I think of "Viktor 'Blut Beil' Vedros". A hulking german with a red leather trenchcoat, black shades, and blood-stained hatchet tucked inside his coat. A hitman, of sorts. (Mind you, TSRP is usually "modern" themed, though there's one or two "futuristic" ones.)
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:I hail from the US of A, and my primary languge is English. And the only language, for now.
How did you get into Warcraft?: I played Warcraft I when I was just a kid. I picked up Warcraft II a bit later, and then my aunt bought me Warcraft III. I tried World of Warcraft out on a funserver. I decided I like it. Went to a Roleplay server. Liked it. And here I am.
What made you seek our server over others?:My friend, Sweet Spirit, recommended this server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:Well....anything, really. I find tavern RP to be dull, and repetitive. Fighting is usually just ended with someone ragequitting, someone bawww'ing about how a sword could never possibly ever EVER cut through leather, and the usual stupidity.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?: I prefer Undead Warlocks. Don't know why, though. It's probably because I like Necromancers, and that's about as close as you can come.
What are your expectations of this server?: Well...I've heard mixed reviews. One friend says that you are all "complete idiots, who think admin abuse is great, and the usual, normal RPer is absolutely horrible.". Another says you are all perfectly fine. I hope the latter is correct.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?: Respect everyone. However, the racism thing might be tough for me to change, as I usually like to make racist jokes. I'll get over it, though.
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!: Well, I'm not that great with just starting stuff without any plot beforehand, but okay.
The canyon winds howled fiercly above, the white hot sun shining down upon the trade caravan. Fine sand from the dunes ahead flew through the route between the two towering cliffs. Although the air was heavy with the mixed forces of sand and smoke, the caravan of Orcs trudged through. The goggles on the caravan master's face were the only thing stopping the sweat from pouring into his eyes. He closed his eyes for but a moment, and remembered when they had first set off. They had been attacked twice, and lost...he couldn't remember how many men were rotting in the sand back down the trail. It was down to himself, a Troll named Zaj'hin, and one undead warrior, clad in the darkest and heaviest of armor he'd ever seen. The Undead hadn't spoken a single word other than, "I will help." Grommok couldn't quite figure out what the Undead wanted in Ogrimmar, but he had not asked for payment of any sort.
The Troll was hunched over, walking with the only surviving pack Kodo. The Undead was on the other side. Neither Grommok, nor Zaj'hin heard the sound of a blade unsheath. Nor did they notice when the Undead stopped, and then walked up, behind Zaj'hin. Grommok was falling asleep as the blade replaced Zaj'hin's face with it's cold, and now bloodied steel. The Undead simply pulled the sword up, slicing through the rest of Zaj'hin's head. The body slumped to the ground, and was left behind in the dust. As the canyon was ending, Grommok snapped awake as his mount, a black wolf with monstrous teeth barked, signalling his master to get off of his head. That's when he heard the clinking of the Undead's platemail. He turned just in time to see the blade lodge itself into his arm. He howled, his wolf roared, the Kodo snorted, and the Undead laughed, prying the blade, and Grommok's coin pouch away from him. The wolf took off, out of the canyon, and towards the city of Ogrimmar, leaving the Undead laughing, and the Kodo stampeding towards the Ogrimmar gate, in pursuit of Grommok.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
If the story is sub-standard, then sorry. I'm mediocre at best with soloing a story. Oh, and I'll more than likely include Grommok on my roster of characters. And the Undead, who is actually a thief dressed in a dead warrior's garbs. Hence the whole "backstabbery and theft" part.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:I hail from the US of A, and my primary languge is English. And the only language, for now.
How did you get into Warcraft?: I played Warcraft I when I was just a kid. I picked up Warcraft II a bit later, and then my aunt bought me Warcraft III. I tried World of Warcraft out on a funserver. I decided I like it. Went to a Roleplay server. Liked it. And here I am.
What made you seek our server over others?:My friend, Sweet Spirit, recommended this server.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:Well....anything, really. I find tavern RP to be dull, and repetitive. Fighting is usually just ended with someone ragequitting, someone bawww'ing about how a sword could never possibly ever EVER cut through leather, and the usual stupidity.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?: I prefer Undead Warlocks. Don't know why, though. It's probably because I like Necromancers, and that's about as close as you can come.
What are your expectations of this server?: Well...I've heard mixed reviews. One friend says that you are all "complete idiots, who think admin abuse is great, and the usual, normal RPer is absolutely horrible.". Another says you are all perfectly fine. I hope the latter is correct.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?: Respect everyone. However, the racism thing might be tough for me to change, as I usually like to make racist jokes. I'll get over it, though.
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!: Well, I'm not that great with just starting stuff without any plot beforehand, but okay.
The canyon winds howled fiercly above, the white hot sun shining down upon the trade caravan. Fine sand from the dunes ahead flew through the route between the two towering cliffs. Although the air was heavy with the mixed forces of sand and smoke, the caravan of Orcs trudged through. The goggles on the caravan master's face were the only thing stopping the sweat from pouring into his eyes. He closed his eyes for but a moment, and remembered when they had first set off. They had been attacked twice, and lost...he couldn't remember how many men were rotting in the sand back down the trail. It was down to himself, a Troll named Zaj'hin, and one undead warrior, clad in the darkest and heaviest of armor he'd ever seen. The Undead hadn't spoken a single word other than, "I will help." Grommok couldn't quite figure out what the Undead wanted in Ogrimmar, but he had not asked for payment of any sort.
The Troll was hunched over, walking with the only surviving pack Kodo. The Undead was on the other side. Neither Grommok, nor Zaj'hin heard the sound of a blade unsheath. Nor did they notice when the Undead stopped, and then walked up, behind Zaj'hin. Grommok was falling asleep as the blade replaced Zaj'hin's face with it's cold, and now bloodied steel. The Undead simply pulled the sword up, slicing through the rest of Zaj'hin's head. The body slumped to the ground, and was left behind in the dust. As the canyon was ending, Grommok snapped awake as his mount, a black wolf with monstrous teeth barked, signalling his master to get off of his head. That's when he heard the clinking of the Undead's platemail. He turned just in time to see the blade lodge itself into his arm. He howled, his wolf roared, the Kodo snorted, and the Undead laughed, prying the blade, and Grommok's coin pouch away from him. The wolf took off, out of the canyon, and towards the city of Ogrimmar, leaving the Undead laughing, and the Kodo stampeding towards the Ogrimmar gate, in pursuit of Grommok.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
If the story is sub-standard, then sorry. I'm mediocre at best with soloing a story. Oh, and I'll more than likely include Grommok on my roster of characters. And the Undead, who is actually a thief dressed in a dead warrior's garbs. Hence the whole "backstabbery and theft" part.