First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
My name is Sean, and I've been playing WoW on and off for a few years now. I used to play the game just for PvP and PvE, but these other players introduced me to the idea of RP, and I really liked that aspect of the game more than the others.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
United States. American English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My older cousin showed it to me when I was in the sixth grade.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Google search; the heavy role-play aspect is what drew me here.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy a good tavern RP, but going on adventures is more fun.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite class to role-play is shaman, but I can't decide between orcs and trolls as far as race goes. The orcs have a very long, interesting history, with intriguing customs, and the trolls do too!
What are your expectations of this server?:
To be very mature in handling all role-play activity, and to have a great RP environment you can't find at any other typical private server.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The maturity requirement, because too many good RP sessions can be ruined by immaturity.
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"):
No, I don't think I'd have the time.
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!:
The faded grass danced with the wind. The frog seemed as though he were trying to dance along with the grass blades, which he merely ended up trampling upon with every "hop" out of beat. Moggar watched the frog. It would stretch its legs, hurl its whole abdomen into the air, reach for the sky, and plop down again. Moggar longed for the freedom the frog exhibited.
"Mok'ra, Moggar," said a familiar voice. Garr sauntered to where Moggar sat, and after peering into Moggar's gazing, orange eyes, Garr too began to watch the frog. "It's so strange how we have grown familiar with the odd creatures of this planet." Moggar grunted in agreement. Garr looked as though he were about to say something, but he was interrupted by an ear-piercing cry.
"You cannot take my child, you pinkskin bastard! Let her go!" cried an Orc woman, pegged to the wall of the interment camp by two Human guards, as one carried away an Orc infant to the headmaster's quarters. Tears rolled down the woman's face like a waterfall. Moggar remembered when orchish eyes were full of fire instead of water. He remembered the time when Humans took great fear of him as he and the rest of his Bleeding Hollow kinsman descended upon Stormwind for the first time. He also remembered the hatred Garr had for them, never once forgetting the image of Garr's hellfire eyes glaring at the Alliance soldiers that had captured him.
Garr's eyes were now ash. A bonfire left overnight that burns to nothing more than burnt timber and debris. Moggar knew that the woman's eyes had turned to ash too, for she now felt helpless to keep her only child, her only motivation to live in this manmade purgatory. Every Orc's eyes had turned to ash. His had too.
"I would slay all three of those Humans if I still had the strength to," muttered Garr as the guard carrying the child walked by. Moggar grunted in agreement. He then rose and went to the barracks where the woman lived. "That Orc doesn't talk as nearly as much as he used to..." Garr said to himself as Moggar walked away.
Moggar stepped inside the barracks. The woman was stretched, face down, on her cot, and Moggar could see the sheets around here face were damp with tears. He approached her, and slowly sent his finger out to wake her, touching her shoulder. She sprung up, and looked ready to murder him until she realized who he was. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I want to help," said Moggar.
"You can't help me."
"I can, and I will. I can get your child and get both of you out of this place."
The woman looked at him with disbelief. She could only ask, "How?"
The night had crept in. The wind had died down. All the Orcs were asleep. All but one. Moggar's figure shifted across the buildings of the internment camp. Glimmers of lights from the stars shined from above, but more importantly, Moggar was careful to avoid the beam of the lanterns the night watch kept on hand.
Moggar clutched on to the side of the headmaster's building. He climbed the tower with all his might, asking every malnourished muscle in his body to pull its weight. On and on he climbed. Moggar reached for a ledge near the top window of the tower. He could feel his hand trembling, his arm muscles twitching, and his heart thumping louder than a war drum. His hand slowly, and unsteadily met with the ledge. He then thrust his whole body onto the platform, and he peered into the window of the tower. Inside, by a faint candle, a green head popped out of folded white cloth. Moggar opened the window and crept into the room, not making even a creek. He took the child and began to go back to where he belonged.
Evading the lights of the guards, Moggar reentered the barracks. He poked the mother, and her eyes began to open from her slumber, but they popped ajar when she saw what was right in front of her. "Great ancestors, I thought I'd never see you again!" she said to her child as it awakened from its slumber. The little green Orc nestled his head into his mother's bosom. The mother held the child as tight as she ever had, kissing its forehead and whispering prayers under he breath. Moggar began to smile, and a glimmer began to form in his eyes.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No.
My name is Sean, and I've been playing WoW on and off for a few years now. I used to play the game just for PvP and PvE, but these other players introduced me to the idea of RP, and I really liked that aspect of the game more than the others.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
United States. American English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My older cousin showed it to me when I was in the sixth grade.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Google search; the heavy role-play aspect is what drew me here.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy a good tavern RP, but going on adventures is more fun.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite class to role-play is shaman, but I can't decide between orcs and trolls as far as race goes. The orcs have a very long, interesting history, with intriguing customs, and the trolls do too!
What are your expectations of this server?:
To be very mature in handling all role-play activity, and to have a great RP environment you can't find at any other typical private server.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The maturity requirement, because too many good RP sessions can be ruined by immaturity.
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"):
No, I don't think I'd have the time.
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!:
The faded grass danced with the wind. The frog seemed as though he were trying to dance along with the grass blades, which he merely ended up trampling upon with every "hop" out of beat. Moggar watched the frog. It would stretch its legs, hurl its whole abdomen into the air, reach for the sky, and plop down again. Moggar longed for the freedom the frog exhibited.
"Mok'ra, Moggar," said a familiar voice. Garr sauntered to where Moggar sat, and after peering into Moggar's gazing, orange eyes, Garr too began to watch the frog. "It's so strange how we have grown familiar with the odd creatures of this planet." Moggar grunted in agreement. Garr looked as though he were about to say something, but he was interrupted by an ear-piercing cry.
"You cannot take my child, you pinkskin bastard! Let her go!" cried an Orc woman, pegged to the wall of the interment camp by two Human guards, as one carried away an Orc infant to the headmaster's quarters. Tears rolled down the woman's face like a waterfall. Moggar remembered when orchish eyes were full of fire instead of water. He remembered the time when Humans took great fear of him as he and the rest of his Bleeding Hollow kinsman descended upon Stormwind for the first time. He also remembered the hatred Garr had for them, never once forgetting the image of Garr's hellfire eyes glaring at the Alliance soldiers that had captured him.
Garr's eyes were now ash. A bonfire left overnight that burns to nothing more than burnt timber and debris. Moggar knew that the woman's eyes had turned to ash too, for she now felt helpless to keep her only child, her only motivation to live in this manmade purgatory. Every Orc's eyes had turned to ash. His had too.
"I would slay all three of those Humans if I still had the strength to," muttered Garr as the guard carrying the child walked by. Moggar grunted in agreement. He then rose and went to the barracks where the woman lived. "That Orc doesn't talk as nearly as much as he used to..." Garr said to himself as Moggar walked away.
Moggar stepped inside the barracks. The woman was stretched, face down, on her cot, and Moggar could see the sheets around here face were damp with tears. He approached her, and slowly sent his finger out to wake her, touching her shoulder. She sprung up, and looked ready to murder him until she realized who he was. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I want to help," said Moggar.
"You can't help me."
"I can, and I will. I can get your child and get both of you out of this place."
The woman looked at him with disbelief. She could only ask, "How?"
The night had crept in. The wind had died down. All the Orcs were asleep. All but one. Moggar's figure shifted across the buildings of the internment camp. Glimmers of lights from the stars shined from above, but more importantly, Moggar was careful to avoid the beam of the lanterns the night watch kept on hand.
Moggar clutched on to the side of the headmaster's building. He climbed the tower with all his might, asking every malnourished muscle in his body to pull its weight. On and on he climbed. Moggar reached for a ledge near the top window of the tower. He could feel his hand trembling, his arm muscles twitching, and his heart thumping louder than a war drum. His hand slowly, and unsteadily met with the ledge. He then thrust his whole body onto the platform, and he peered into the window of the tower. Inside, by a faint candle, a green head popped out of folded white cloth. Moggar opened the window and crept into the room, not making even a creek. He took the child and began to go back to where he belonged.
Evading the lights of the guards, Moggar reentered the barracks. He poked the mother, and her eyes began to open from her slumber, but they popped ajar when she saw what was right in front of her. "Great ancestors, I thought I'd never see you again!" she said to her child as it awakened from its slumber. The little green Orc nestled his head into his mother's bosom. The mother held the child as tight as she ever had, kissing its forehead and whispering prayers under he breath. Moggar began to smile, and a glimmer began to form in his eyes.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
No.
