08-30-2009, 05:30 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I would describe myself as a big fan of all things fantasy. When I was a child, I watched the Star Wars trilogy hundreds of times with my older cousin and I became a huge fan (which I still am). What attracted me was not the lasers and space ships but the magic of a reality different from our own and I spent hours dreaming up my own stories set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. This interest eventually grew into a healthy appetite for fantasy books which began, unsurprisingly, with the Hobbit and the LOTR.
Rp is something I always found fun and I have spent many a fun evening in the company of a group of fellow geeks, models and some funny shaped dice. I guess the fascination of alternative worlds that star wars instilled into me has never left me.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I hail from Ireland and my primary language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Well I played WoW for about 2 years as a casual on hellscream EU, following my younger brother into the game. Now, by casual I mean less than 15 hours per week and sometimes I took about a month or two off. My class was a Tauren warrior that I got to level 70.
Though I played well into the burning crusade, I eventually got bored with the mundane routine of daily quests and instances. I never raided much as I didn't want to invest the time so, needless to say, I got bored. Looking for something new, I made a rouge on an RP server which I enjoyed greatly for a short while before real life caught up with me and I had to move on from WoW.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I found your sever after typing “RP private servers†into google. The reason I found this one so interesting was the amount of work that had clearly gone into the website. I also read through some of the forum posts and the general attitude of people just seemed pleasant.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy the human element of RP a lot. Something I have always enjoyed in fiction is strong characters and character development. To me, a good character brings a story to life and makes it feel more real.
That aside, I enjoy any type of RP besides. Generally, I just go with the flow and assist others in what they wish to do. One can be part of a story without being its focus.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Generally my favourite classes would be the melee classes. Perhaps it stems from all those light-sabre duels but I enjoy the idea of fighting enemies hand to hand.
However, I did play as a mage for a short while and I enjoyed the look of the class. Something cool about a staff and robes.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Simply to enjoy some good RP.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I think it has to be the rules regarding the use of internet short hands. Now I don't' want to appear a snob or anything but when I see something like “OMG!! U r a N00b lol!!†I tend to get irritated. I don't even write text messages like 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!:
This is a story I wrote a while ago for a creative writing class I took. I didn't write it with WoW in mind but if could be read that way:
******************************
The room was dark. The wooden shutters were drawn and the heavy oaken door closed tight to prevent even a single ray of light from piercing the inky blackness that covered every surface and every object within like a blanket. The only sound to be heard was the slow, steady breathing of the room's soul occupant; a golden haired woman who sat cross legged in the centre of the floor.
Ciren Irna was deep in concentration. Her fingers were closed tightly around an ornately carved and decorated wooden staff that rested in the folds of her black dress. Her eyes were shut tightly, as if trying to block out a light that was not present.
For hours she had sat thus, lost in her own mind. Then, slowly and carefully, she released her grip on her staff and reached out to a candle, which she had placed in a simple wooden stand before her some time earlier, and cupped her hands around its cold wick. A few short words escaped her lips in a whisper and a red glow appeared between her fingers.
Pulling her appendages away, Ciren opened her eyes. The candle was aflame, casting its dim light over her face. Again she spoke, again a slight whisper, and the flame quickly shared its fire with five other candles with which it formed a neat circle.
For a few moments, the young woman gazed at the flames, watching them move and flicker like tiny dancers in motion to a tune unheard. Then, slowly as before, she raised her right hand and made a delicate gesture by placing her ring finger under her thumb. The flames began to intensify in both size and volume and she could now feel their heat on her face as surly as she would from a burning brazier.
She closed her eyes one more and returned her hands to the staff. A slight breeze filled the room. Ciren felt her curled hair brush across her skin but not a single flame and any of the candles gave even the slightest sign of being disturbed. The candles themselves, however, began to rise from the floor.
At first they merely remained still, levitating no more than a foot in the air. But, slowly, they began to move outwards from one another until they formed a circle around the one whom had given them life; Six burning sentinels, standing watch around their creator.
Then, Ciren broke her shell of stillness by moving promptly to her feet and holding her staff out in front of her. She spun it once around her body in an easy arc before slamming its base, hard, into the oaken floor boards.
No sooner had the sharp sound of wood striking wood reverberated through the room than the six flames erupted. No longer were they gentle candle lights, they were now six raging tempests of flame, multiplied in size and brightness twenty fold. The candles below each was quickly liquefied and consumed, leaving each fire floating, devoid of fuel and source but still very much alive.
Again the room was filled with a sharp crack as the woman in the centre of the inferno smote the floor once more with her staff. The levitating balls of fire began to circle her, accelerating steadily until they were no less than a blur of light and flame.
Ciren watched the fruits of her labour surround her with the look of someone attempting to thread the eye of a needle. She held her staff out as if she were pointing a spear to the throat of an enemy, directly into the flames. It did burn however, as one might expect, rather the nimbus began to fade around it, as if its energy was stolen by the wood of the staff.
At first, the diminishing effect was centred to where the staff had entered the flames but slowly, very slowly, the light of the fires faded as one until the cyclone of fire became like flickers in the wind.
The staff of the mage, however, had become something entirely different. Where one it had been smooth and cool to the touch, it now looked like a white-hot rod of iron, fresh from a smithies furnace.
Yet Ciren held it still, as tightly as a mother might hold her infant whilst walking across a sheer and steep hill. She whispered something to the air and then raised burning implement for a final strike to the floor. However, raised and ready the staff remained.
Instead of striking the wood beneath her feet as she had done twice before, Ciren simply brought the staff down to touch her forehead. Her breathing increased as if she were in pain and beads of sweat appeared on her brow yet the staff left no marks on her flesh.
Then, the white glow of the rod began to fade into a shade of orange and then to red until, finally, its light was extinguished. The room returned to its previous state of blackness and the staff to its earlier form of a simple walking aid.
The young woman allowed a single sigh to escape her lips. She then made her way, in the dark, to a small shelve in the rooms corner. Gathering up fresh candles, she returned to her previous seat on the floor to begin her spell again.
***************************
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nothing just yet J.
I would describe myself as a big fan of all things fantasy. When I was a child, I watched the Star Wars trilogy hundreds of times with my older cousin and I became a huge fan (which I still am). What attracted me was not the lasers and space ships but the magic of a reality different from our own and I spent hours dreaming up my own stories set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. This interest eventually grew into a healthy appetite for fantasy books which began, unsurprisingly, with the Hobbit and the LOTR.
Rp is something I always found fun and I have spent many a fun evening in the company of a group of fellow geeks, models and some funny shaped dice. I guess the fascination of alternative worlds that star wars instilled into me has never left me.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I hail from Ireland and my primary language is English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Well I played WoW for about 2 years as a casual on hellscream EU, following my younger brother into the game. Now, by casual I mean less than 15 hours per week and sometimes I took about a month or two off. My class was a Tauren warrior that I got to level 70.
Though I played well into the burning crusade, I eventually got bored with the mundane routine of daily quests and instances. I never raided much as I didn't want to invest the time so, needless to say, I got bored. Looking for something new, I made a rouge on an RP server which I enjoyed greatly for a short while before real life caught up with me and I had to move on from WoW.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I found your sever after typing “RP private servers†into google. The reason I found this one so interesting was the amount of work that had clearly gone into the website. I also read through some of the forum posts and the general attitude of people just seemed pleasant.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy the human element of RP a lot. Something I have always enjoyed in fiction is strong characters and character development. To me, a good character brings a story to life and makes it feel more real.
That aside, I enjoy any type of RP besides. Generally, I just go with the flow and assist others in what they wish to do. One can be part of a story without being its focus.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Generally my favourite classes would be the melee classes. Perhaps it stems from all those light-sabre duels but I enjoy the idea of fighting enemies hand to hand.
However, I did play as a mage for a short while and I enjoyed the look of the class. Something cool about a staff and robes.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Simply to enjoy some good RP.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I think it has to be the rules regarding the use of internet short hands. Now I don't' want to appear a snob or anything but when I see something like “OMG!! U r a N00b lol!!†I tend to get irritated. I don't even write text messages like 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!:
This is a story I wrote a while ago for a creative writing class I took. I didn't write it with WoW in mind but if could be read that way:
******************************
The room was dark. The wooden shutters were drawn and the heavy oaken door closed tight to prevent even a single ray of light from piercing the inky blackness that covered every surface and every object within like a blanket. The only sound to be heard was the slow, steady breathing of the room's soul occupant; a golden haired woman who sat cross legged in the centre of the floor.
Ciren Irna was deep in concentration. Her fingers were closed tightly around an ornately carved and decorated wooden staff that rested in the folds of her black dress. Her eyes were shut tightly, as if trying to block out a light that was not present.
For hours she had sat thus, lost in her own mind. Then, slowly and carefully, she released her grip on her staff and reached out to a candle, which she had placed in a simple wooden stand before her some time earlier, and cupped her hands around its cold wick. A few short words escaped her lips in a whisper and a red glow appeared between her fingers.
Pulling her appendages away, Ciren opened her eyes. The candle was aflame, casting its dim light over her face. Again she spoke, again a slight whisper, and the flame quickly shared its fire with five other candles with which it formed a neat circle.
For a few moments, the young woman gazed at the flames, watching them move and flicker like tiny dancers in motion to a tune unheard. Then, slowly as before, she raised her right hand and made a delicate gesture by placing her ring finger under her thumb. The flames began to intensify in both size and volume and she could now feel their heat on her face as surly as she would from a burning brazier.
She closed her eyes one more and returned her hands to the staff. A slight breeze filled the room. Ciren felt her curled hair brush across her skin but not a single flame and any of the candles gave even the slightest sign of being disturbed. The candles themselves, however, began to rise from the floor.
At first they merely remained still, levitating no more than a foot in the air. But, slowly, they began to move outwards from one another until they formed a circle around the one whom had given them life; Six burning sentinels, standing watch around their creator.
Then, Ciren broke her shell of stillness by moving promptly to her feet and holding her staff out in front of her. She spun it once around her body in an easy arc before slamming its base, hard, into the oaken floor boards.
No sooner had the sharp sound of wood striking wood reverberated through the room than the six flames erupted. No longer were they gentle candle lights, they were now six raging tempests of flame, multiplied in size and brightness twenty fold. The candles below each was quickly liquefied and consumed, leaving each fire floating, devoid of fuel and source but still very much alive.
Again the room was filled with a sharp crack as the woman in the centre of the inferno smote the floor once more with her staff. The levitating balls of fire began to circle her, accelerating steadily until they were no less than a blur of light and flame.
Ciren watched the fruits of her labour surround her with the look of someone attempting to thread the eye of a needle. She held her staff out as if she were pointing a spear to the throat of an enemy, directly into the flames. It did burn however, as one might expect, rather the nimbus began to fade around it, as if its energy was stolen by the wood of the staff.
At first, the diminishing effect was centred to where the staff had entered the flames but slowly, very slowly, the light of the fires faded as one until the cyclone of fire became like flickers in the wind.
The staff of the mage, however, had become something entirely different. Where one it had been smooth and cool to the touch, it now looked like a white-hot rod of iron, fresh from a smithies furnace.
Yet Ciren held it still, as tightly as a mother might hold her infant whilst walking across a sheer and steep hill. She whispered something to the air and then raised burning implement for a final strike to the floor. However, raised and ready the staff remained.
Instead of striking the wood beneath her feet as she had done twice before, Ciren simply brought the staff down to touch her forehead. Her breathing increased as if she were in pain and beads of sweat appeared on her brow yet the staff left no marks on her flesh.
Then, the white glow of the rod began to fade into a shade of orange and then to red until, finally, its light was extinguished. The room returned to its previous state of blackness and the staff to its earlier form of a simple walking aid.
The young woman allowed a single sigh to escape her lips. She then made her way, in the dark, to a small shelve in the rooms corner. Gathering up fresh candles, she returned to her previous seat on the floor to begin her spell again.
***************************
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nothing just yet J.
