05-08-2010, 03:34 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
Well, I'm just a New York boy working for a living and writing for a career. I've been role playing for about five years in WoW now and I find it to be one of the best universes to immerse yourself into.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States, I speak English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I've been a player of the genre since the very first RTS game. The story has always been fascinating, I pride myself in being knowledgeable in lore.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I was tired of role playing on legit servers, too many griefers came as people weren't screened for competence before joining it.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I like the adventure genre. A crew of people embarking on a journey across Azeroth, I'd like be playing a wanderer.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Orc shaman. The rich complexities of shaman and the deep-rooted history of the orcs go hand in hand. It's too much fun.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Nothing short of fantastic. I browsed the forums and saw legitimate grammar and spelling, knowing that you folks screen members is even better.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Humility, I can't stand the egotistical RP'r who refuses to have a flawed character.
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!:
A boot sunk into inches of snow; the tundra was laid out for this man to conquer one step at a time. The ebon cloak unraveled its self from this man's neck due to the harsh wind that began whipping about violently. An uphill struggle seemed like a walk in the park when his thoughts were on his goal; "Eliminate the threat… Stop the madness that threatens the one I love." The air stopped its war with the man, deciding that it could not win… It was replaced by a howling breeze that now tore through the icy crags and snow mounds. Dustings of snow snaked over the surface of the ground and twisted into nothing. The monotonous sound of a leather boot crushing the snow beneath a leaded foot became the rhythm of a poem he'd repeat for hours before reaching the next town.
Faith and shadows,
Cage my rage,
I've a purpose,
This war I wage.
Clear my head,
No more thought,
I've a task at hand,
And it's not for naught.
She truly was poetry… She was the line that rhymed to his soul, their very thoughts crossed even with such a gap between them. She'd pace her studies, fighting the winds of frustration and the cold loneliness just as he fought the winds of a harsh climate and the frigid cut of a frightening temperature. Her thoughts swirled in his head, or at least it seemed…
"Love, you leave me here for a while…
I shall not flail."
"Love, I trek many a mile…
I shall not fail."
"Yet, this time, time is hostile…
I lose hope."
"Yet, I fear that this is my last trial…
I lose scope.
…Of everything."
A hand gripped firmly on a frozen rock in the face of a cliff. The snow-capped mountain danced in the sunlight. The arm to the hand surfaced upon the ground. The valley seemed deeper with each moment that passed. The cloaked head of a hero peered over the edge in a desperate struggle. The mountain lost this war, joining the wind in defeat and becoming a subtle stepping stone for the stubborn man to pass. He stood on two feet once more, conquering the rigid wind, and then an unforgiving mountain. Faith had given him a push.
Glass shattered, tears rolled, and papers floated to the floor like loosed feathers. An empty desk was decorated only by the woman who felt the imminent fate of her lover. The only thing steady was the growing anger that boiled within her.
The pinnacle of the mountain was intimidating to any with eyes, but he was blind. The King stood upon the paramount, waiting for the challenge of this otherwise mortal man. The thunderous boots of the King threatened to start an avalanche at any moment. Then he finally came into view, with blue eyes and white hair. A grin was smeared like blood upon thin lips that have long since frozen with malice.
The man did not falter. Confident strides deadened the air and flattened the mountain. The earth trembled beneath him and the snow melted around him. It was a warpath… Two battles were lost by the elements; two battles were lost by the King. This man was invincible, ready to slay the god-like figure that stood before him. He felt the blood within boil; this made the cold fear the cloaked man.
As if it were a serpent, a two-layered voice slithered around the hero and spoke down his spine, "You... Have done everything appropriately… You've come. Conquered life and conquered this earth's harshest conditions… You have proven this reality… Futile."
She sat in her study, as always. Hair a mess, jade eyes magnified and brightened by her constant tearing. The last strand snapped and she slammed her fist into the desk and let out a scream that echoed through the study and broke all chains from her torture rack.
"He's dead!" She'd scream.
The serpentine voice sounded off in the barren tundra, "You are… Dead."
"I've…" His last words trailed off as blood spurted from his lips.
Even at the subzero temperature, cold steel ran through his body hot. The sharpened blade of a King impaled the cloaked man. All but one thought faded to black. "She is faith…"
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nothin'! I'm ready to go!
Well, I'm just a New York boy working for a living and writing for a career. I've been role playing for about five years in WoW now and I find it to be one of the best universes to immerse yourself into.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States, I speak English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I've been a player of the genre since the very first RTS game. The story has always been fascinating, I pride myself in being knowledgeable in lore.
What made you seek our server over others?:
I was tired of role playing on legit servers, too many griefers came as people weren't screened for competence before joining it.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I like the adventure genre. A crew of people embarking on a journey across Azeroth, I'd like be playing a wanderer.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
Orc shaman. The rich complexities of shaman and the deep-rooted history of the orcs go hand in hand. It's too much fun.
What are your expectations of this server?:
Nothing short of fantastic. I browsed the forums and saw legitimate grammar and spelling, knowing that you folks screen members is even better.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Humility, I can't stand the egotistical RP'r who refuses to have a flawed character.
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!:
A boot sunk into inches of snow; the tundra was laid out for this man to conquer one step at a time. The ebon cloak unraveled its self from this man's neck due to the harsh wind that began whipping about violently. An uphill struggle seemed like a walk in the park when his thoughts were on his goal; "Eliminate the threat… Stop the madness that threatens the one I love." The air stopped its war with the man, deciding that it could not win… It was replaced by a howling breeze that now tore through the icy crags and snow mounds. Dustings of snow snaked over the surface of the ground and twisted into nothing. The monotonous sound of a leather boot crushing the snow beneath a leaded foot became the rhythm of a poem he'd repeat for hours before reaching the next town.
Faith and shadows,
Cage my rage,
I've a purpose,
This war I wage.
Clear my head,
No more thought,
I've a task at hand,
And it's not for naught.
She truly was poetry… She was the line that rhymed to his soul, their very thoughts crossed even with such a gap between them. She'd pace her studies, fighting the winds of frustration and the cold loneliness just as he fought the winds of a harsh climate and the frigid cut of a frightening temperature. Her thoughts swirled in his head, or at least it seemed…
"Love, you leave me here for a while…
I shall not flail."
"Love, I trek many a mile…
I shall not fail."
"Yet, this time, time is hostile…
I lose hope."
"Yet, I fear that this is my last trial…
I lose scope.
…Of everything."
A hand gripped firmly on a frozen rock in the face of a cliff. The snow-capped mountain danced in the sunlight. The arm to the hand surfaced upon the ground. The valley seemed deeper with each moment that passed. The cloaked head of a hero peered over the edge in a desperate struggle. The mountain lost this war, joining the wind in defeat and becoming a subtle stepping stone for the stubborn man to pass. He stood on two feet once more, conquering the rigid wind, and then an unforgiving mountain. Faith had given him a push.
Glass shattered, tears rolled, and papers floated to the floor like loosed feathers. An empty desk was decorated only by the woman who felt the imminent fate of her lover. The only thing steady was the growing anger that boiled within her.
The pinnacle of the mountain was intimidating to any with eyes, but he was blind. The King stood upon the paramount, waiting for the challenge of this otherwise mortal man. The thunderous boots of the King threatened to start an avalanche at any moment. Then he finally came into view, with blue eyes and white hair. A grin was smeared like blood upon thin lips that have long since frozen with malice.
The man did not falter. Confident strides deadened the air and flattened the mountain. The earth trembled beneath him and the snow melted around him. It was a warpath… Two battles were lost by the elements; two battles were lost by the King. This man was invincible, ready to slay the god-like figure that stood before him. He felt the blood within boil; this made the cold fear the cloaked man.
As if it were a serpent, a two-layered voice slithered around the hero and spoke down his spine, "You... Have done everything appropriately… You've come. Conquered life and conquered this earth's harshest conditions… You have proven this reality… Futile."
She sat in her study, as always. Hair a mess, jade eyes magnified and brightened by her constant tearing. The last strand snapped and she slammed her fist into the desk and let out a scream that echoed through the study and broke all chains from her torture rack.
"He's dead!" She'd scream.
The serpentine voice sounded off in the barren tundra, "You are… Dead."
"I've…" His last words trailed off as blood spurted from his lips.
Even at the subzero temperature, cold steel ran through his body hot. The sharpened blade of a King impaled the cloaked man. All but one thought faded to black. "She is faith…"
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nothin'! I'm ready to go!
