First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I am a 19 year old student artist, hoping to animate some day. I have several character ideas I'd like to experiment with, and I am most fascinated by magic and otherworldly politics. For these reasons, Elder Scrolls is my favorite fantasy universe. I have tried roleplay with other venues, but it all seemed very hollow. I am hoping that returning to the game that captivated me as a child will serve as a source of inspiration for my writing and artwork.
I am working on an original fantasy universe which will consist of a stereotypical tolkein-derivative world, progressed several thousand years until they develop something resembling modern western society, and the problems that would arise from integrating such radically different races and customs, as well as the difficulties that would arise in trying to enforce laws on a populace with access to magic and heavy weaponry. Authority and bigotry are very important topics to me, and I believe these two concepts propel almost everything humans do.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm from America, but well-travelled. English. I'm very interested in linguistics but learning foreign languages is very difficult for me.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I watched my dad play WC3 as a child, then obsessively played Burning Crusade. Would later go on to complete WC3 and its expansion.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
After asking around, this seemed to be the only active RP server. Someone told me I should avoid this place but after looking around the forums it seems really hardcore and fun.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Character-driven, with a small party or with one partner in which each wishes to explore and help develop the others' characters. I particularly enjoy writing about magic, religion, authoritarianism, domestic life, occultism, aging, manipulative relationships, immortality, and undeath.
As for settings, I enjoy private scenes, like inn rooms, caves, empty homes, etc.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I have always had a predisposition towards gnomes and I don't know why. I love anything short, really. I also love mages, because I am fascinated by magic, and it also happens to be the most convenient in-game class for transportation and utility.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I have no idea, really, but I'm hoping for an active server in which everyone can write well and take their RP seriously.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I think it's great that this application process exists to filter out the riff-raff.
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"):
Yes, that sounds like a good starting point.
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!:
oh god i didn't know i'd have to do this but here's a scenelet i've kicked around in my head, presented without context.
Darcy gasped herself awake. Syrik scrambled under the bed, clutching the stolen tome as her roommate stirred from sleep above her. She held her breath hoping that the stony-eyed woman would drift back into unconsciousness, but then, something unexpected happened. This rocky, stoic person who she lived in fear of... was weeping. She whispered something Syrik could not decipher, then whispered it again, and again. It was then that she realized what she was hearing-- Darcy was speaking Ilnet, a tongue only present in the modern world in cryptic etymologies and sayings, gone unused by any tribe or government for centuries, and she spoke it as though it were natural. She repeated it again.
Syrik tried to remember the syllables, to decipher them later, but nearly gasped and gave away her position when Darcy's heels loudly hit the floor inches away from her face. It was dark, but Syrik could see from her vantage point that Darcy had fallen asleep in the ratty, common clothes she had been wearing that day. She continued to mumble to herself as she stumbled to her dresser and fished for her comically large bottle of rum. Removing the cork with her nails, Darcy threw her head back and swallowed aggressively at the red firewater, struggling to breath through her nose and prevent herself from gagging as she loudly gulped down what must have been a liter and a half of the most vile, burning rum Syrik had ever sampled. Darcy lowered the jug and dropped it absent-mindedly on the carpet, wiping the alcohol, tears and snot from her face to her sleeve. She stared, dazed, at nothing in particular, her head moving around but her eyes failing to meet anything in the nearly-black room. She made a long noise. It sounded frustrated and pained and gutteral, but quiet, and it made Syrik uncomfortable.
Without warning, Darcy practically tore the dirtied jacket off of her torso, fidgeting like a child to force her hands through the rings of the sleeves, and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door and hitting the light and fan switches. Syrik breathlessly returned the book to its position on the bookshelf, praying her roommate would not notice it had been disturbed, and bolted from the room in a panic, learning more from her invasion of privacy than she had hoped to.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
this is a portrait I drew of a classmate, if anyone was curious about my art.
![[Image: tumblr_n2pnciRF3r1s5e4c3o1_250.jpg]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/f85f564d6e090ad98b2902a60f606ac3/tumblr_n2pnciRF3r1s5e4c3o1_250.jpg)
I am a 19 year old student artist, hoping to animate some day. I have several character ideas I'd like to experiment with, and I am most fascinated by magic and otherworldly politics. For these reasons, Elder Scrolls is my favorite fantasy universe. I have tried roleplay with other venues, but it all seemed very hollow. I am hoping that returning to the game that captivated me as a child will serve as a source of inspiration for my writing and artwork.
I am working on an original fantasy universe which will consist of a stereotypical tolkein-derivative world, progressed several thousand years until they develop something resembling modern western society, and the problems that would arise from integrating such radically different races and customs, as well as the difficulties that would arise in trying to enforce laws on a populace with access to magic and heavy weaponry. Authority and bigotry are very important topics to me, and I believe these two concepts propel almost everything humans do.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I'm from America, but well-travelled. English. I'm very interested in linguistics but learning foreign languages is very difficult for me.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I watched my dad play WC3 as a child, then obsessively played Burning Crusade. Would later go on to complete WC3 and its expansion.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
After asking around, this seemed to be the only active RP server. Someone told me I should avoid this place but after looking around the forums it seems really hardcore and fun.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Character-driven, with a small party or with one partner in which each wishes to explore and help develop the others' characters. I particularly enjoy writing about magic, religion, authoritarianism, domestic life, occultism, aging, manipulative relationships, immortality, and undeath.
As for settings, I enjoy private scenes, like inn rooms, caves, empty homes, etc.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
I have always had a predisposition towards gnomes and I don't know why. I love anything short, really. I also love mages, because I am fascinated by magic, and it also happens to be the most convenient in-game class for transportation and utility.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I have no idea, really, but I'm hoping for an active server in which everyone can write well and take their RP seriously.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
I think it's great that this application process exists to filter out the riff-raff.
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"):
Yes, that sounds like a good starting point.
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!:
oh god i didn't know i'd have to do this but here's a scenelet i've kicked around in my head, presented without context.
Darcy gasped herself awake. Syrik scrambled under the bed, clutching the stolen tome as her roommate stirred from sleep above her. She held her breath hoping that the stony-eyed woman would drift back into unconsciousness, but then, something unexpected happened. This rocky, stoic person who she lived in fear of... was weeping. She whispered something Syrik could not decipher, then whispered it again, and again. It was then that she realized what she was hearing-- Darcy was speaking Ilnet, a tongue only present in the modern world in cryptic etymologies and sayings, gone unused by any tribe or government for centuries, and she spoke it as though it were natural. She repeated it again.
Syrik tried to remember the syllables, to decipher them later, but nearly gasped and gave away her position when Darcy's heels loudly hit the floor inches away from her face. It was dark, but Syrik could see from her vantage point that Darcy had fallen asleep in the ratty, common clothes she had been wearing that day. She continued to mumble to herself as she stumbled to her dresser and fished for her comically large bottle of rum. Removing the cork with her nails, Darcy threw her head back and swallowed aggressively at the red firewater, struggling to breath through her nose and prevent herself from gagging as she loudly gulped down what must have been a liter and a half of the most vile, burning rum Syrik had ever sampled. Darcy lowered the jug and dropped it absent-mindedly on the carpet, wiping the alcohol, tears and snot from her face to her sleeve. She stared, dazed, at nothing in particular, her head moving around but her eyes failing to meet anything in the nearly-black room. She made a long noise. It sounded frustrated and pained and gutteral, but quiet, and it made Syrik uncomfortable.
Without warning, Darcy practically tore the dirtied jacket off of her torso, fidgeting like a child to force her hands through the rings of the sleeves, and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door and hitting the light and fan switches. Syrik breathlessly returned the book to its position on the bookshelf, praying her roommate would not notice it had been disturbed, and bolted from the room in a panic, learning more from her invasion of privacy than she had hoped to.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
this is a portrait I drew of a classmate, if anyone was curious about my art.
Curious. I suppose there's still some rivalry servers between and some burned fingers out there from people who either had friends removed or were removed themselves. I hope you come into the community with an open mind despite that, however. We're glad to have you!