06-30-2014, 12:15 PM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
While I've played WoW for many years, the only things that'll keep me coming back is the community, the world and of course immersing myself in it. WoW RP has always been crutch of sorts for me, or perhaps a comfy chair. I can come over, sit down for however long and become somebody else in a totally chill environment. I hugely enjoy developing my own characters and stories with others, which is exactly what I look for in this.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
England, English. My grammar's good enough, I hope
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Around 2006-7 I first heard about it, saw the cinematic, and thought I MUST MAKE THAT UNDEAD SHAMAN, later to find out it was indeed a warlock. I played with my brothers quite casually at first, but about a year in I decided to visit an RP server (SWC EU) for shits and giggles, and ended up in a fanatically nationalist blood elf guild, which was gloriously fun. Since then I've developed a love for Dwarves, Forsaken and Blood Elves, and RP's become one of my favourite hobbies I can do without leaving the house.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Google mainly, but I've known about the server for a long time, as I was on a few other private RP servers and know it through people there.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Ever since I started RPing Dwarves I fell in love with adventure RP - cavorting across Azeroth with a rag-tag crew of madmen in search of whatever treasures suited our whim. It has always been thrice as appealing, travelling wherever I want (within reason) instead of confining myself to a guild base, or a city, or whatever. However, that said, city/tavern RP is still fun and great for meeting people, and I'm not adverse to any RP type in particular.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
It's either going to be Dwarf hunter or Belf hunter, but I've played more Dwarf over the years so I'll go with that. I don't RP casters very much, and being able to roleplay an undisputedly badass Dwarf with a boomstick is pretty damn appealing. The architecture and landscape of Khaz Modan is great, Dwarven culture is awesome and fun to act out, and of course there's the whole beard thing. Although I've never fully branched out into it, archaeology/Titan based Dwarf RP has always seemed interesting.
Equally, I love the Blood Elven lands and zone music, everything about Quel'Thalas' aesthetics is stunning to me. The elitist, aristocratic theme is also fun to play out and build characters around.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm not entirely sure what to expect but you give off an air of high standards, so I'll hold you to that Other than that I hope to find a load of decent people who're fun to RP and chat with.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Maturity. It really isn't hard to be calm and logical when it comes to generally petty arguments and whatnot, so I hope to find a pretty big contrast between here and alot of the retail community!
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, but I can imagine being interested when/if I get settled into the server.
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!:
Kaendris awoke with a bitter sense of disgust written plainly across his face. The perpetual song of the Silithid fuelled his fevered dreams, the writhing husks of marred flesh and bone protruding from the distant horizon were a constant reminder of his looming enemy. Every morning was the same. Though envied by his conscripted brothers and sisters for it, Kaendris was granted his own tent. While this allowed him a sanctuary of his own and some degree of cleanliness, it also created his own, new battlefield.
The generously large tent, endowed with a thick bedroll, plentiful rations and a number of keepsakes from the temple, weighed down upon him with a sense of reaching oppression. Each night, alone, the clawed limbs of insectoids scratched at his mind. Imagery of his fellow soldiers invaded his thoughts; butchered before him, devoured by vast sandstorms, pulled screaming by their ankles into shuddering Silithid hives (where ironically life flourished most, with the ease of perfect design). Before dispatching him alongside the others, his superiors had told him that the true believer’s faith was illuminated in the hardest of times, but of course such sage counsel was concocted from the safety of a stone temple. The thought of these ‘enlightened’ cowards only enraged him.
Pulling his combat knife from beneath his bedroll, clenched tightly in his grip, Kaendris let out a deep sigh as he banished his feeble, mortal fears to the night. He rose, hiding the blade within his robes. There was another battle to be had beyond the flap of his tent, and other withered men needing somebody to follow. As he emerged he found the men sharing his campsite breaking their fast on one of the camp’s famously mysterious broths, waving him over to join them. The wispy priest looked half a beggar beside his armoured comrades, his weather-beaten robes becoming more frayed by the day. His apprentice, Saevel, mirrored his master’s unkempt appearance, though whether this was intentional was beyond him – his student saw him as the summit of all faith in Elune which was both heartening and an irritance. But of course, when Kaendris asked him to accompany him for a prayer that night, he eagerly obliged.
The searing heat of Silithus’ sun had fled faster than he had expected. It had been made clear to him by many a Sentinel that travelling away from your station by night meant death. Saevel, as incessant as the insect’s buzzing, continually reminded him of this. Nonetheless, he had a task to fulfil, and the phantom faces of his smirking superiors would only mock him if he failed. Finally, he had reached that familiar rocky outcropping which he had visited many times before. He fell to his knees, Saevel following in turn, and raised his eyes to the moon. Once more he reached out to Elune, begging for guidance, tenacity and to find some solace in these accursed wastes. The moon had never seemed as distant as it did in Silithus, yet as he stared upwards, he could feel a presence - subtle at first. It grew to feel enormous in his mind, more palpable and utterly invasive than Elune had granted before. And in some blasphemous mirage, the moon stared back at him. A sheet of starry blackness before it, the piercing gaze of the eye was unyielding, yet enlightening. What seemed like hours passed.
He felt complete. Renewed, strengthened and filled with life, now he understood. His superiors, the leaders of all his Kaldorei brothers and sisters, existed to mislead him. He had been sent to purge a place where life flourished in a hopelessly barren wasteland and to ruin what had been so benevolently created. Kaendris now knew what to do. Turning around, his naïve apprentice had risen to his feet, longstaff in hand, quivering in defiant fear at the multitudes of Silithid which now surrounded them both. Kaendris merely sighed. With calm and elegant grace, he pulled the combat knife from his robes, stepped forward, and opened Saevel’s throat from ear to ear. The next few moments were a haze of sounds and colours – he felt himself being carried further into the desert, screams which would once terrify him getting further away, and when he looked up, the moon no longer stared at him.
(this isn't about any character in particular, I just enjoy the whole aesthetic of AQ and the atmosphere of Silithus)
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
That's about everything. Hope to have alot of fun here!
While I've played WoW for many years, the only things that'll keep me coming back is the community, the world and of course immersing myself in it. WoW RP has always been crutch of sorts for me, or perhaps a comfy chair. I can come over, sit down for however long and become somebody else in a totally chill environment. I hugely enjoy developing my own characters and stories with others, which is exactly what I look for in this.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
England, English. My grammar's good enough, I hope
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Around 2006-7 I first heard about it, saw the cinematic, and thought I MUST MAKE THAT UNDEAD SHAMAN, later to find out it was indeed a warlock. I played with my brothers quite casually at first, but about a year in I decided to visit an RP server (SWC EU) for shits and giggles, and ended up in a fanatically nationalist blood elf guild, which was gloriously fun. Since then I've developed a love for Dwarves, Forsaken and Blood Elves, and RP's become one of my favourite hobbies I can do without leaving the house.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Google mainly, but I've known about the server for a long time, as I was on a few other private RP servers and know it through people there.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Ever since I started RPing Dwarves I fell in love with adventure RP - cavorting across Azeroth with a rag-tag crew of madmen in search of whatever treasures suited our whim. It has always been thrice as appealing, travelling wherever I want (within reason) instead of confining myself to a guild base, or a city, or whatever. However, that said, city/tavern RP is still fun and great for meeting people, and I'm not adverse to any RP type in particular.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
It's either going to be Dwarf hunter or Belf hunter, but I've played more Dwarf over the years so I'll go with that. I don't RP casters very much, and being able to roleplay an undisputedly badass Dwarf with a boomstick is pretty damn appealing. The architecture and landscape of Khaz Modan is great, Dwarven culture is awesome and fun to act out, and of course there's the whole beard thing. Although I've never fully branched out into it, archaeology/Titan based Dwarf RP has always seemed interesting.
Equally, I love the Blood Elven lands and zone music, everything about Quel'Thalas' aesthetics is stunning to me. The elitist, aristocratic theme is also fun to play out and build characters around.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm not entirely sure what to expect but you give off an air of high standards, so I'll hold you to that
Other than that I hope to find a load of decent people who're fun to RP and chat with.Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Maturity. It really isn't hard to be calm and logical when it comes to generally petty arguments and whatnot, so I hope to find a pretty big contrast between here and alot of the retail community!
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, but I can imagine being interested when/if I get settled into the server.
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!:
Kaendris awoke with a bitter sense of disgust written plainly across his face. The perpetual song of the Silithid fuelled his fevered dreams, the writhing husks of marred flesh and bone protruding from the distant horizon were a constant reminder of his looming enemy. Every morning was the same. Though envied by his conscripted brothers and sisters for it, Kaendris was granted his own tent. While this allowed him a sanctuary of his own and some degree of cleanliness, it also created his own, new battlefield.
The generously large tent, endowed with a thick bedroll, plentiful rations and a number of keepsakes from the temple, weighed down upon him with a sense of reaching oppression. Each night, alone, the clawed limbs of insectoids scratched at his mind. Imagery of his fellow soldiers invaded his thoughts; butchered before him, devoured by vast sandstorms, pulled screaming by their ankles into shuddering Silithid hives (where ironically life flourished most, with the ease of perfect design). Before dispatching him alongside the others, his superiors had told him that the true believer’s faith was illuminated in the hardest of times, but of course such sage counsel was concocted from the safety of a stone temple. The thought of these ‘enlightened’ cowards only enraged him.
Pulling his combat knife from beneath his bedroll, clenched tightly in his grip, Kaendris let out a deep sigh as he banished his feeble, mortal fears to the night. He rose, hiding the blade within his robes. There was another battle to be had beyond the flap of his tent, and other withered men needing somebody to follow. As he emerged he found the men sharing his campsite breaking their fast on one of the camp’s famously mysterious broths, waving him over to join them. The wispy priest looked half a beggar beside his armoured comrades, his weather-beaten robes becoming more frayed by the day. His apprentice, Saevel, mirrored his master’s unkempt appearance, though whether this was intentional was beyond him – his student saw him as the summit of all faith in Elune which was both heartening and an irritance. But of course, when Kaendris asked him to accompany him for a prayer that night, he eagerly obliged.
The searing heat of Silithus’ sun had fled faster than he had expected. It had been made clear to him by many a Sentinel that travelling away from your station by night meant death. Saevel, as incessant as the insect’s buzzing, continually reminded him of this. Nonetheless, he had a task to fulfil, and the phantom faces of his smirking superiors would only mock him if he failed. Finally, he had reached that familiar rocky outcropping which he had visited many times before. He fell to his knees, Saevel following in turn, and raised his eyes to the moon. Once more he reached out to Elune, begging for guidance, tenacity and to find some solace in these accursed wastes. The moon had never seemed as distant as it did in Silithus, yet as he stared upwards, he could feel a presence - subtle at first. It grew to feel enormous in his mind, more palpable and utterly invasive than Elune had granted before. And in some blasphemous mirage, the moon stared back at him. A sheet of starry blackness before it, the piercing gaze of the eye was unyielding, yet enlightening. What seemed like hours passed.
He felt complete. Renewed, strengthened and filled with life, now he understood. His superiors, the leaders of all his Kaldorei brothers and sisters, existed to mislead him. He had been sent to purge a place where life flourished in a hopelessly barren wasteland and to ruin what had been so benevolently created. Kaendris now knew what to do. Turning around, his naïve apprentice had risen to his feet, longstaff in hand, quivering in defiant fear at the multitudes of Silithid which now surrounded them both. Kaendris merely sighed. With calm and elegant grace, he pulled the combat knife from his robes, stepped forward, and opened Saevel’s throat from ear to ear. The next few moments were a haze of sounds and colours – he felt himself being carried further into the desert, screams which would once terrify him getting further away, and when he looked up, the moon no longer stared at him.
(this isn't about any character in particular, I just enjoy the whole aesthetic of AQ and the atmosphere of Silithus)
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
That's about everything. Hope to have alot of fun here!
