Mesalia Forums - Approved Applications

Atlas Faustus, The Lawful Knight

Tue, 04 Jul 2023 18:55:50 +0000

Atlas Faustus
Age: 58
Race: Mesalian

Skills

Master Level
• Mace+Shield Combat

Advanced Level
• Spear+Shield Combat

Intermediate Level
• Mining

Apprentice level
• Horsemanship
• Blacksmithing (Put down his hammer a long time ago)

Novice Level
• Household upkeep.

Appearance: Strong Build, Stout Shoulders, 6'5" Stark Silver Hair
Wears lighter clothes under his armor for heat management
His armor is well kept, silvery with green markings on it.

Traits:

Positive
High moral standards
Strong-minded
Believes that people can change
Optimistic
Understanding of others choices
Puts women on a higher level than men

Neutral
Spiritual (Religious, but not specifically to one god or faith)
Tendency to judge based on recent past
Doesn’t take orders literally, interpreting them depending on the situation
Requires atonement or punishment to believe change is possible

Negative
Intolerant of crimes involving women being the victims
Has trouble breaking his own morals, even for the greater-good
Trouble switching out of a fight mode after a fight ends
Struggles to adapt to a peaceful life

Starting Gear:
His signature armor
One-handed mace
One-handed spear
Shield with an order’s symbol long forgotten to time “The Helping Hand”
Storage trunk for his gear
Water skin

Background

Chapter 1: The Young Years (1-10)
It all started with his mother, Selene Juana, a northerner born into a family of rather rich and influential Mesalians. She was around 23 when she was attacked in the streets of a town during a nightly stroll of hers. She was emotionally devastated by the act, even more so when she found out she was pregnant. Sadly as much as she wished she could have just ignored the problem, she couldn’t and her family in order to keep proper blood-lines in order and make sure they didn’t have a fatherless baby forced the rapist to marry her. This of course wasn’t the parent’s intentions, but due to political strain within the town, they covered it up the best they could and used the marriage as a way to explain the sudden pregnancy of their daughter. Atlas Faustus was born. The last name being his fathers and,until he grow up, never learned that he was conceived by rape. At the age of seven he was drafted into a religious order. It was mainly to protect Atlas from learning the secret, and at the same time keeping him away from the emotionally crippled mother. He was trained in the ways of battle. His morals were shaped during these days, as they were very religious people, but he became spiritual instead of religious zealot.

Chapter 2: A coincidental meeting (11-23)

The training continued until he reached 16, at which he was given a lease to visit his mother and father. When he left for home they were not expecting him at all. He went inside and was greeted by arguing parents. His mother told him the truth in her fit of hysteria. He was enraged and distraught at the same time. Unsure of what to do, he let his anger get the better of him. He confronted his father by beating him to an inch of his life. His grand-father had to break him away from him. He couldn’t handle what he heard and left after a short conversation with Selene. She begged him to stay, but he couldn’t. He knew this would happen again if he stayed. He went back to the lord’s keep, and asked to get moved somewhere else they needed people. They offered him a position in a new area they were expanding into after he finished the normal training at the current location. He did so, taking until the age of 21 to finish it. He had his official ceremony, with the gifts of armor, weapons, and a horse for travels. He left shortly after, with a short goodbye to his mother. He wanted to at least give her that much. He avoided the purges directly that so quickly happened as he was only one man traveling. He did his best to help the Xitians that were being persecuted when he came upon them, knowing well they didn't deserve it, but often got out manned to do anything. During his travels with his horse he stumbled upon an unmistakable noise. There was a cry of fear from a nearby forest thicket. He quickly dismounted from his horse and charged in. He found a small girl being attacked by an old dog. He quickly charged in with his shield, bashing the dog away, and quickly dispatched it. After the short battle he saw the bleeding girl and brought her to the nearest town over horse-back. He got her to a healer in time to help the leg from being amputated. This accidental meeting of theirs sprung a new adventure for the both.

Chapter 3: The Forbidden Lands Adventure (23-33)
He avoided the civil war like a plague. He saw it as an unjust squabble with no honor in it. After some years of traveling with each other Neola joined her own group of sorts. The “Helping Hand'' led by a man named Erasmus.The organization provided free assistance, help and protection for those in need without the ability to get it themselves. He joined this order at the age of 25, just to keep watch on Neola. In the order he did the average things, protect the shepherds, and perform up-keep on armor. He had a few brushes with criminals and misogynists whom they were supposed to help, and to each one he usually tried to cross the line of violence the Helping hand had. He was stopped normally and kept in line by Neola. Atlas felt at home in the Order. Despite his original reasons for joining he might have joined without Neola. He did wish that they did some sort of punishment against those who were wicked instead of just helping the needy, although he knew why they didn't. He would sometimes inflict his own punishments on the cruel without telling others. Eventually the Helping hand was going to expand into the Forbidden lands, and Erasmus chose Atlas and Neola to both go with him. Sadly, he couldn't bring his steed, but he left it with good men in the helping hand knowing it would be taken care of.

Chapter 4: The Return Home (33-35)
It was a good time spent in the forbidden lands until tragedy struck. The order was already falling apart due to unstable funds and goods, and then the final nail in the coffin struck. Erasmus died. It was likely old age in combination with a common sickness, but the reason didn’t matter. The order, without its strong leader, was going to fall apart. Atlas did his best to keep it together for a few months, but no one cared to give their time and skills away for free. When Neola decided to settle in Auria and separate from the order, Atlas knew the organization was dead and stopped his work to try and resurrect it. He decided, with Neola no longer in need of protection, to return to his homeland. He returned to a good reunion with his mother. His father, having died from his own habits, made the return fruitful. He made amends with his mother and started to help take charge of the estate. It was a little more than a year when he got restless with the mundane nature of home life. He made sure someone else could assist in the estate, took a sum for his own travels, wished his mother goodbye and left to seek the same thrill and satisfactions he got out of traveling for the Helping Hand.

Chapter 5: The Wandering Knight (35-50)
For the next decade, Atlas wandered from small town to small town in both the mainlands and forbidden lands. He would help them with any problems the towns might have and help establish basic law and order. Most of the time it would involve training a formal guard for the town, bandit removal or basic night protections. He’d throw himself at any task involving a good fight, but settled for helping with mining or quarrying if that wasn’t needed. He wouldn’t stay for long if that is all they needed, but he needed to make a bit of money occasionally.

Chapter 6: Passing of the hammer (50-now)
While still continuing his self imposed duty of providing towns with laws and formal guards, he visited the town Auria more and more to check in on Neola. As of very recently, Thomas, who he remembered being a young lad in the very same town, moved back and had a daughter in need of some extra training. Atlas taught Thomas a few times when he was a child, so Thomas asked Atlas to train Cadence while he was in town. Atlas couldn’t say no of course. Through this training Cadence talked about the town Valour. Atlas hearing about the new settlement, their family being there, and the lack of laws or guard, took it upon himself to find Valour and help them like he has so many towns already.

Everything past chapter 4 is new. Chapter 1-3 was his original character backstory edited for readabilities sake. I do not plan to introduce this character ASAP, so take your time to go over it.

Form submission: Whitelist Application

Tue, 20 Sep 2022 09:12:12 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): : Jigglenibs

How did you find us?: I found a post on Reddit directing me to your server.

Tell us about yourself: : I have enjoyed playing Minecraft since I was 11 and have been looking for a good community server for a little while now. I'm from Australia and love community builds and roleplay.

Character name: : Jigs

Character age and year of birth: : 62 years old, born 12 BV

Character gender: : Male

Character race: : Mesalian

Elemental abilities: :

Character culture: : Mesalian

Hair colour: : Dark grey

Eye colour: : Blue

Skin tone: : Tan

Height: : 6'1 Feet

Weight: : 143 Pounds

Details: : Tall and skinny, always in uniform, wearing metal braces on his head, hands, and feet.

Personality traits: : Although usually good natured and helpful Jigs is known to be rather detached at times, finding joy in personal gain even if it comes at the suffering of others. He is quite obsessive at times, although the subject of his obsession's tends to change. His main two obsession's that do not change however would be his obsession with appearance, Always wearing a uniform and his idea of ascension through technology, hoping to one day turn himself into an immortal automaton.

Main profession skill: : Weapon Forging - Master
A craft as simple as breathing to Jigs weapon forging was to be the sole passion of his younger years.

Secondary profession skill: : Alchemy - Competent
Although Jigs has dedicated much of his life to Alchemy he finds his mastery of the craft has begun to fail, as although he can safeguard against an aging body he cannot protect against an aging mind.

Hobby skill: : Rune Engineering - Expert
Having studied for over twenty years Jigs engineering skill has only been limited by the tools and location in which he studied, now that he is leaving the mountains he hopes to increase his skill and fulfil his dreams of an iron body.

Hobby skill 2: :

Native language: : Mesalian

Other language: :

Default skills: : --- Numeracy.,--- Literacy in native language.,--- Basic survival skills.

Character backstory: : Born towards the end of the of the days of slavery and raised in a time of war Jigs quickly grew up to learn one lesson: The world belongs to the strong. Raised by an older man simply known as Boss Jigs' purpose in his early days was to collect materials and ingredients for the Boss, who used these in his alchemy and weapon forging, both which Jigs learned to love.
When the purges began Jigs was 13 years old and learned another lesson from the Boss: mass murder is great for business. Becoming detached from the violence around him he learned that the lives of others mattered little in the name of personal gain and his ideas that it is only natural for the strong to do as they please increased.
By the time the civil wars began the Boss had sadly passed away, leaving the family business to Jigs. Like the Purges that came before Jigs found that the battlefield was a place full of customers on both sides of the war, however as it became known to the public that he was dealing with both sides he was forced to go into hiding beneath the mountains as he was targeted by all. During this time of isolation and research the civil wars would end and the Dusk Gate would be reopened, however he would not hear of this for quite some time. Instead he would work to study a new craft: rune engineering. Believing there is a way to higher power through runes Jigs would spend the next twenty-four years studying the craft in search of either strength or immortality. though never finding a method to de-age himself through alchemy he did find a way to support his aging body through the use of metal braces that keep him from being a completely useless old man. Deciding to find a way to immortalize himself through mechanical means Jigs left the mountains in search of new answers, just in time for the emergence of the dragons.

Character family: : Assumedly an orphan from the years of slavery Jigs was raised by a potion brewing weapon smith simply known as boss. While it is unclear as to why Boss chose to raise Jigs it was obvious that his did not love the boy, raising him to be more of a servant than a son. Boss died when Jigs was 19.

Birth Realm: : Middle Realm

Continent: : Mainland

Items: : Jigs always carries with him a swag filled with alchemical ingredients and mechanical do-dads. Aside from that he always keeps a map of his local area and knife in his boot.

Additional comments: :

You have read: : --- The Main Lore,--- The Races,--- An already approved application

Terms of Service: --- Yes, I have read the rules and understand them.

Form submission: Whitelist Application

Fri, 02 Apr 2021 01:22:33 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): : Nicedom

How did you find us?: Well...You know

Tell us about yourself: : We will catch up later.

Character name: : Ujay

Character age and year of birth: : 30 years old, born 20 AV

Character gender: : Male

Character race: : Mesalian

Elemental abilities: :

Character culture: : Ko'Ban

Hair colour: : Brown

Eye colour: : Brown

Skin tone: : light brown

Height: : 6'0

Weight: : 200 Pounds

Details: : Wearing leather coat and old brown clothes to assist on blending into the environment, no facial hair

Personality traits: : Hardened over time by his travels, he tends to be slow to trust anyone and shows it. He tends to struggle nowadays with being friendly or even willing to become friendly with others, but formerly was a joyous hunter. Boasting skills amongst his former tribe members and engaging in friendly bets he would often win. He saw himself as a provider before, and while he may not be friendly to most, he will help those in need as a way of personal repentance for his exile, even if he won't be nice about the help.

Main profession skill: : Hunting: Competent

Secondary profession skill: : Camping: Apprentice, Trapping: Apprentice, Foraging: Novice, Cooking: Novice

Hobby skill: : Bone whittling

Hobby skill 2: :

Native language: : Ko'Ban

Other language: : Mesalian

Default skills: : --- Numeracy.,--- Basic survival skills.

Character backstory: : Ujay was raised in the small Ban'roda tribe untouched by outsiders. As was normal for the village he was raised to help his father in hunting from an early age. Each moon cycle in the village repeated the same for his younger years. Spend a day preparing to leave the village with his father and others. Leave the next morning to travel around during the day finding whatever game they could and setting up temporary camps during the night. When they got as much weight as they could carry or found themselves midway through the moon cycle, they would return to the village. When Ujay was younger he would primarily assist in setting up the camp, foraging for miscellaneous supplies during the hunt, and managing traps around the camp during night. When Ujay got older he started using the bow gifted by his father to hunt. He was a quick learner, although whether that is due to natural talent or his father’s teaching ability is not clear. He would consistently take on bets with other tribe members to get the biggest animal on hunts and became a natural marksman. He set himself up to be the future lead hunter for the tribe despite his rather large ego about the subject.

When he hit his late teens a younger child in the village started admiring Ujay’s archery skills and wanted to see him hunting in the field. He was a bit young to go out alone with another hunter, but Ujay though they would be safe with his bow. One night he led the child out with intentions to just show him around, shoot the bow at some easy targets, and leave a good impression on the kid. He stopped to fix the string on his bow when the kid wandered away. He shot up to a never heard noise. His bow still unstringed he ran forward, the kid only wandered for a few seconds at most he thought and somehow ran across a bear or something. It had to be a bear. The clearing revealed a scene of a large figure overshadowing the small child. That was too big to be a bear. Ujay was frozen at the sight of the mighty creature mirroring the child. He had to act fast if either of them was going to live. Ujay was going to run forward, snag the child by his shirt and run as fast as he could. The creature surely would not crash through the forest just to give chase. His body acted on its own and ran the other way. Reaching the tribe in haste he awoken the older hunters and warriors and explained what had happened. Knowing the child was left behind they made haste back to the clearing Ujay had abandoned. It all happened so fast Ujay hardly remembers that night. The proceeding skirmish only led to more deaths. The child’s body was never found during the fight.

The tribal leader, Masotta, had a choice to make over Ujay. Ujay plead his case of innocence, justifying the outing as a perfectly safe adventure. Ujay had no way of knowing that such a beast existed, nor that he would have been able to save anyone against such a beast. The tribal leader did not agree. Ujay had responsibility over the child since he took him outside the village without others. A child’s death was on Ujay’s hands and now he had a choice, death or exile. Seeing no choice, and with no one willing to take Ujay’s side, Ujay chose exile. He took his bow and knife, gave a last goodbye to his parents and left the tribe.
He spent the rest of his time wandering in exile. He survived off the land for years by himself, occasionally finding small settlements of people whose culture he did not understand. Only going into them as needed, getting odd looks and glances as an oddly dressed foreigner. He kept this routine for a long time until very recently. Ujay made a mistake during a normal hunt. Too focused on the prey in front of him he did not hear the dusk creature behind. An arrow lodged itself in his leg. Barely escaping the dusk creature and managing to have a moment to consider the situation, he thought back to his tribe. The sour looks given as he was exiled. The now dead child that he did not save. If he did not run, maybe they would be able to help him. He was not far his original home but knew he would be killed on sight at this point. All he could do was put some clean cloth tied around his leg and hobble along. He did not think he needed anyone anymore, but the wound served as a grim reminder as he walked how alone he was. He was going to need to find a new tribe, or at least someone to watch his back. He would settle for a friendly animal at this point. He could not go back to his tribe, but he did see a light in the distance he never saw before. He took this as a sign and ventured towards it on his injured leg.

Character family: : Father: Great hunter and Teacher, Admired him greatly.
Mother: Caretaker, Loved her as most children love their mothers.

Birth Realm: : Middle Realm

Continent: : Forbidden Lands

Items: : Old bow with plenty of repairs, Arrows, Knife with bone handle, Leather blanket for camping.

Additional comments: :

You have read: : --- The Main Lore,--- The Races,--- An already approved application,--- Additional lore

Terms of Service: --- Yes, I have read the rules and understand them.

Form submission: Character Submission

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 23:44:47 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): : DarkusOfArk

How long have you been roleplaying on Mesalia, roughly?: 9-ish Years. On and off. I don't even know how. I went through so much between all that time too. it's nauseating.

Character name: : Elin Txartela

Character age and year of birth: : 26 years old, born 24 AV

Character gender: : Cis woman

Character race: : Xitian

Elemental abilities: : None (Powerless)

Character culture: : Xitian

Hair colour: : Deep Red

Eye colour: : Scarlet (A vibrant red dipping it's toes into orange)

Skin tone: : Peach

Height: : 5'8"

Weight: : 170 lbs. (77 kg)

Details: : Elin sports long and well kept red hair, tied up at roughly shoulder-height in a tail behind her for most of the day. Red-tinted lenses set inside shiny steel goggles hide away her scarlet eyes for most not within inches of her face. Her face is sharp and full of youth and health. Toned peach skin is covered by most of her dress, with a few scars around her arms and shoulders.

Her typical dress is an open-side leather dress over a long-sleeved white tunic. The dress hides a drawstring belonging to the black linen pants underneath. A sword and satchel commonly hang from both sides of her waist on a belt. The pants cuff into shin-height leather boots. There's very little other footwear she'd consider. Leather gloves are optional and depends if she's handling chemicals or not.

Personality traits: : + Hard-working: Lax and easy-going natures make one weak. Momma didn't raise no Lucin.
+ Loyal: Family and kin come first, followed by friends and allies made along the way. To go back on them is to go back on herself.
+ Educated: Both inside and outside the scholarly setting.
+ Studious: Elin likes keeping her mind busy. Her curiosities in check. Learning anything from general culture, to applied science, to the secrets of an enemy.
+ Competitive: It's a good habit to teach a child. So they may not get picked on and cry when they're bullied for being a worthless scab. Bleeds over into deadly rivalry.

~ Religious: Like her family and most like dusk-borne Xitians, Umbraie is a large part of her life. Ritual and worship is a dedicated part of her daily schedule.
~ Routine: Every day of Elin's life is charted out and abided by with little error. The times she's not able to properly start and finish a day with her routine finds her noticeably distressed and annoyed.

- Prideful: In all respects but one, she's a great example of her culture's aspirations. She feels it right to let that be known sometimes.
- Possessive: Through the whole tough act, there's a clingy part of her that wants nothing more than to be validated. She'll take offense to have it any other way with some people she considers close or rivals.
- Insecure: Plenty of things to be insecure about when you're a powerless Xitian zealot. Plenty of ways to compensate as well.
- Fanatic: Elin holds her cultural and religious value over people's heads sometimes. Despite her own circumstance.
- Petty: Elin's not above holding grudges over small transgressions.

Main profession skill: : Alchemy

Secondary profession skill: : Swordplay

Hobby skill: : Herbalism

Hobby skill 2: : Brewing

Native language: : Xitian

Other language: : Mesalian, Lucin (Literate, subpar in conversation)

Default skills: : --- Numeracy.,--- Literacy in native language.,--- Basic survival skills.

Character backstory: : Festering Hate. What else was left to feel after a miserable defeat and extermination for all they had accomplished? It felt like ages ago that this troupe of Xitians was pushed back into the mountains. Hiding with their heads down in the very mines their previous slaves bore out of its stone. Securing themselves a small hidden encampment that would serve them for decades to come. Only requiring the compliance of its neighboring city to survive the years. Festering Hate. Sure, this site shall claim that name from the few who interact with it.

Of the Xitian families that formed within and survived, the Txartelas (zar-tell-uhs) were among the strongest and most well known. Both Ashleh and Verde Txartela were well-respected commanders in the general army and served close by with their troupes. Staying together through the toughest of trials. From them, seven children would come into the world. The youngest of which was afflicted with a curse any Xitian Family would rather make disappear. This baby, born as Elin Txartela, had no glow about their eyes. That intricate connection to Umbraie severed in some way. It was perhaps the baby's only saving grace that Festering Hate was in no position to be killing their small population of Xitians.

For most of her young years, the world did not care about her or her family. Or knew. The middle realm being strung up on civil wars allowed these stragglers the breathing room they needed. That did not make her years easy though. Since she could walk and talk, she was expected to help her mother work and temper the competitive nature of her older siblings. There were no lies about being a late bloomer or anything told to her. Nothing to sugar coat her position among the others. Being the youngest in her family didn't even really keep her young ears from hearing how different she was. Taught to loathe the other races, to keep yourself pure and whole. Regardless, she participated in all the same rituals. Lit the same candles, held the same ceremonies. During these early years it was most of what she could do to feel warmth in the cold of His absence.

It was towards the tail end of the Mesalians fighting one another that the young girl first started noticing herself fall even further from His grace. First discovering her loss of vision while working deep in the mines. Mistaking one of the numerous dusk spawn deep within as an older brother and approaching with little regard for her own safety. She managed to scrape by with quick thinking and running with her small life. This problem made her paranoid of things she could not see. The issue popped up a few more times during trips and ceremonies. Nobody up to this point knew why the young one's eyes grew bad and shortsighted. For now, simple glasses would be procured from their neighbors. Her family grew weary of the presence, despite her otherwise having the same spirit as her brothers and sisters.

It was around this time that Verde spoke in private about sending her off into the world. Exile, proper. With rumors of their brethren possibly returning, the family would not dare have its name marred by her. Elin was kept around because there were no such signs for so long. The red child would overhear him speak in such ways at least once. Her mother, for now, denying him the right. Most other children at her age would probably plead and beg for forgiveness. She could not help the circumstances of birth. And perhaps that could work. But it was against everything she'd be taught in. No, the young girl steeled herself against the odds and actively tried bettering her siblings. Age differences aside, it was noticed within the same year that she spent more time devout and training. A youth convinced she could prove herself valuable to her kin. For the while, it helped keep her in good graces with her father and Umbriae. Until the official confirmation came to fruition. Elin just stepping into proper teen years, the portal leap to life and allowed Xitians back into the Middle Realm. No longer crushed with the need to survive on the back of their heels the Txartelas and most others in Festering Hate welcomed the news with open arms and prepared themselves for the trip back. Most hadn't even seen their home realm in person then. All of it spelled bad news for Elin.

The young teen was to be taken in by their neighbors. The loyal sympathies of Londor, up to this point not even bothering to be named proper in her life, would see her being treated better than most places. This was but a thin viel of a lie to protect her though. The family still intended to be rid of her so that her name cannot be mentioned back home. For they are not so lenient there. Ashleh would be the one to confess to her mere days before they'd leave her behind what this all meant for her:

"Hun, you are as much family as your brothers and sisters to me and your father. Please, don't let this darken that light in you. I wanted to be the one to tell you this... Most won't see you as kin. A lot will see you as an abomination. Plenty of others will lump you in with your kin, definitely if they see you as a threat. But He sees past such petty squabbles. Stay strong."

---

Londor, as accepting as it was, still had in it a stilted view about the Xitians that made initial integration rough. Elin was first dropped before a blacksmith before her family left to attempt an apprenticeship, but the occasional friends that came to the smith's residence would bicker and bemoan her presence. A suggested alternative was for the youth to work in the tavern. Serving and cooking for some of the locals that, half the time, weren't even sober enough to complain. She was young and didn't have too many other options, so the red-head tried her hand at that for a while. Learning basics in cooking and brewing for the lads who ran the place, Baret and Ringo. She even got a little popular with a group of elderly locals who found her 'cute'.

The tavern had a problem some time into the coming summer though. Not but half a year into her work and living alone did her workplace had a rodent problem. Rats. Ringo had constant issues trying to eradicate the buggers with conventional means and hiding products better. To be frank, a lot of the town had a problem that summer. The teen wasn't one to watch from afar though. She got to work borrowing books from a scholar's library and thumbing through what she could gather. Finding herself sometimes... lost beyond looking for the answer. She came into it asking how to deal with rats, and now she was reading up on horticulture. An older man came upon her reading one day and snuck behind the studying girl. Seeing she had issues pronouncing one of the plants on the page.

"Squill. A flowering plant. Can help with clearing the lungs of mucus and works as an aid for poor livers. Why would a girl be looking so hard at it?"
It'd get a rise out of the girl who was alone during these study sessions most nights. Peering past her glasses up at the man with a curious gaze. Without further prompting, she asked her first of many questions to the man in front of her. Gene Abedon, one of the city's scholars and scribes.

"Can you kill rats with it?"
This was but the first lesson she'd learn from the man. Humored, the scholar would follow as Elin showed him spots in the tavern where food was rummaged through, and where traps proved ineffective against the larger number of pests. It wasn't too hard to find the plant in question, their proximity to rocky rivers. The plant liked roosting in sun or shade there and was generally safe to forage for. Gene knew of a good application for the plant that seemed too convenient. Chopping the bulb into chips then grinding them into dust, to pour the bitter powder across bait for rats. It was her first foray into the world of herbalism and pest control. Here she'd get to see just what crazy toxins and chemicals the Middle Realm held. This was the moment Gene saw the tough, smart youth more suited to his study than a mere tavern server. Just fourteen and adopted by the city's brains. There's not much better life than that.

Under tutorship, the young woman would learn more about the world outside her small confined existence in Festering Hate. Pouring over books and being taught by Gene himself about history, maths, and expanding her mind to the possibilities of her trade. Alchemy was his passion as a teacher, and he'd readily teach her the basics and beyond for years to come. No longer needing to put so much work into just living on the streets, the woman has the time to develop herself into what she always saw herself as. A devout warrior of Umbriae. With tutoring happening in the afternoon, she developed a long and respectful few hours of routine for the morning and before bed. Gene saw nothing wrong with it and even studied a bit from her about the Xitian culture. Living among these others softened her against the more harsh, conservative views instilled in her birthplace. Fueled by her previous success with the rat problem, the young woman approached her adult life and had her hand in helping develop more pest control for the burgeoning city. Gene and she were considered the region's exterminators, and for a while, it seemed like the distraction of some notoriety kept her mind off how painful her existence was. Sure, there was the usual weird look and side-eyed glance the girl got for her red eyes. For how strangely proud she was to have them. But nobody tried touching her ego. Not like she was easy to pick on anyways. She was a strong woman. Well read, even. Living among the Mesalians was surprisingly easy with all this in mind. Here, at least.

---

But nothing lasts, and visions fade. It was no secret the girl needed her glasses, but up close to her turning seventeen whatever basic prescription these old spectacles were started to become lacking. It wasn't hard to fill in for another examination and sequential pair. Not the first time, at least. But it seemed like every other year she needed to have a change of pair. By the time Elin heard the news of mythical beasts erupting into the middle realm she thought she'd be happy. Ecstatic, even. That was the most interesting piece of news she'd be getting for a while. But her mind was clouded and anxious. Whatever glasses she had now were thick, and it weighed on her that she may just lose her sigh altogether down the road. She became even more of a recluse among the Mesalian population there in Londor. Feeling her great dissatisfaction with life cloud her studies and mess with her personal life, Gene sat her down. To ask her about what she wanted. Not of him, but of her life.

Just a couple of years before the present day, the girl finally parted ways with her old master. Now equipped with thick red lenses and goggles to hold them, the woman set off for a small venture around the Mainland. Departing from her tutorship and embarking on a quest of the self. Trekking between the smallest of towns and the biggest of cities in search of a purpose. Devout as she was to herself, her upbringing, she found nothing to suggest she can just acclimate with her kin. Umbriae continued to challenge her existence, to test her resolve. It was the only excuse why she was chased out and threatened anywhere. Why her devotion was never acknowledged. It took just one run-in with some of the vilest, racist bandits to make her realize how much of a test this was. Beaten and taken to be sold off. Their only salvation was poisoning in the dead of night.

Getting by with her life, she had just one place left she knew of that was less than ideal. Gene mentioned the Forbidden Lands offhand plenty of times, and she's read a bit about some of its older settlements. It was a hotbed for contention and violence. Harsh Survival. But also a free land. With what she had left on her, she'd attempt to board a ship headed there. braving the seas for the first time in hope of finding something more to herself.

Besides, the world's largest pests are known to roam those lands.

Character family: : The Txartelas. A full-blood Xitian bloodline originating in the Dusk Realm and surviving the purges here in the Middle Realm. The parents, several siblings, and extended members. Ashleh and Verde Txartela being mother and father to her, respectively.

Gene Abedon would be an adoptive parent to the young teen. Taking her in as a student and daughter while she studied. For her sake. Even in a rather sympathetic city, she was still accosted by others.

Birth Realm: : Middle Realm

Continent: : Mainland

Items: : - Brewing glasses and stand.
- Incense, candles, and alter for Umbraie.
- Ink and papers to write down her tales.
- Longsword.

Additional comments: : Nothing to complain about rn, the form is solid.

You have read: : --- The Main Lore,--- The Races,--- An already approved application,--- Additional lore,--- Other texts that helped me write my application

Form submission: Character Submission

Fri, 29 Jan 2021 00:50:11 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): : Kiro_WB

How long have you been roleplaying on Mesalia, roughly?: You've had the dubious pleasure of my company for at least eight years now. Which frankly terrifies me.

Character name: : Einar Leifson

Character age and year of birth: : 28 years old, born 22 AV

Character gender: : Male

Character race: : Mesalian

Elemental abilities: :

Character culture: : Generic Mesalian

Hair colour: : Brown, but already greying

Eye colour: : Pale Green

Skin tone: : Caucasian

Height: : 5'11 ft

Weight: : 82 Kg

Details: : While a mostly averagely looking man with the exception of his premature greying he does have the look of a traveller with a windbeaten fact and practical clothes that have seen more than a few quick repairs.

He keeps himself neatly shaven, with a short haircut and his fringe cut particularly short.

His clothing is mostly drab browns and tan shades that colour his few shirts, coats and cloaks. His coats and cloaks are however notable for the many pockets that he's sewn on the inside of them and those pockets are often filled with random tools and junk.

He's never seen without a robust pair of boots, refusing to entertain the notion of other footwear.

Personality traits: : Since he was young Einar set himself apart from other, not on purpose but because of how he is. His nature was one of apathy and curiosity, when his interest in something was roused, he would devour any knowledge on the subject he could get his hands on and look for any experience he might be able to get related to the subject. However as soon as his interest in it faded, or if he were never curious about the subject in the first place, he would find himself almost incapable of any sort of motivation towards learning or doing anything related to it. As a result of this he is, in some respect, a man of dualities; either being intensely driven to achieve something or totally and completely lacking in motivation.
As a direct result of this, Einar has ended up as somewhat of a generalist by trade and by nature, he tends to have something to offer to anyone though lacks the ability to go truly deep on any topic. The exception to this would be thinking and to some extent, philosophy. This is because his mind works particularly quickly, often at the cost of accuracy, and is often left without a huge amount to think about. With nothing better to do, his mind turns inwards and starts to ponder. This can vary in its depth, from keeping him awake at night reflecting on some of his more embarrassing moments to deeper questions like who he wants to be or his attempts to find purpose.
It is reasonable that much of his nature comes down to that very question. What is his purpose in life? It would explain why he constantly looks for new opportunities and subjects to investigate and experience. It hints as well at another truth about Einar. Despite his overall relaxed and almost whimsical nature, it hides a quiet melancholy that he tries to shove down and escape from.
He appears to be an open person, who does little to hide his emotions and insecurities. Certainly, he is an honest person most of the time at least. However, he is extremely slow to let people in completely, always hiding his deepest feelings behind the rest of them. Trying to convince everyone, himself included, that they don't exist.
Other notable traits of his include his impulsive nature, whenever something catches his interest, he will jump at any opportunity to learn about it without sparing a moment to think it all through properly, though if he isn't interested in it and is for some reason obligated to do something, he will think it through, and then overthink everything about it as a means of procrastination.
The other primary issue of his is his refusal to back down once he has decided upon something. If he has decided to do something it is a near impossible task to dissuade him from acting upon it. Something that sticks out in stark contrast to his otherwise laid back and relaxed nature.
He's quite self-conscious due to his tendency to reflect on things but often will act despite his insecurities in an attempt to act as if they aren't there, or just because he has nothing better to do, which often leads to him being mischaracterised as sociable and active when he's merely running away because Einar is a massive coward when it comes to genuinely facing his real problems. Another trait that people tend to get wrong about him when he charges off on another adventure. Other people often think him brave for all the exciting or otherwise adventurous things he does, when he's merely looking for an escape from his internal conflicts.

Main profession skill: : Drawing (Draughting, Schematics and Sketches)

Secondary profession skill: : Woodworking

Hobby skill: : Metalworking

Hobby skill 2: : Pathfinding/Travel

Native language: : Mesalian

Other language: : Lucin, Xitian (Literate, but cannot speak)

Default skills: : --- Numeracy.,--- Literacy in native language.,--- Basic survival skills.

Character backstory: : Einar was born in a large town to two shopkeepers, one successful. It was a bustling, busy place where you could find anything you'd ever need or at least someone who could make it for you. It was a place that, at the time, was mostly untouched by the Civil Wars by some brief stroke of luck.
The first few years of Einar's life were as thoroughly unremarkable as they are for almost all children, a lot of crying, making messes and slowly learning what things are going to kill you while putting anyone nearby into a panic, though his natural propensity to throw himself into discovering what things did regardless of danger was certainly a sign of things to come.
It was only after Einar began to walk and talk that anything of note began to happen in his life because that was when his dad began to read him stories and the like, often to try and get him to finally go to sleep. However this tended to backfire as each story would invite Einar to ask dozens of questions about all the things he didn't understand and how they worked. Not easy questions to answer about entirely fictional stories and it took longer than it should have for Einar to really understand that these stories were not in any respect real.
In the end, his father gave up on reading Einar fictional stories and instead moved into non-fiction books. This progressed further as Einar grew up more, going from nightly readings to active study in the daytime. The was no formal schooling in Einar's town, it was a place of tradesmen rather than academics however as luck would have it, Einar's father ran a bookstore tucked away in a secluded corner of the town. Which allowed Einar to be immersed in books constantly and not have to worry about running out of new things to read. In fact, his only concern was that someone would purchase a book he was part way though, something that did happen on occasion and would put him in a sour mood for at least a few days; until something else managed to catch his interest and put his mind to thinking elsewhere. His only other frustration was his inability to read some books, often they were not books that would have ever caught his interest but he couldn't possibly know that without being able to read them. This irritation led him down the rabbit-hole of languages and by the time he'd become an adult Einar had at least a rudimentary grasp of most of the languages he could find books on.
These early experiences with his gentle dad shaped much about Einar, not only did it lead to his eternal love of learning new things, but stood him in strong grounds in terms of literacy and numeracy at an early age. He also ended up with a huge wealth of scattered knowledge that would all be promptly forgotten over the next few years of his life, the only things he really retained from this time would be his general grasp of languages and that would only be due to him constantly making use of it and reinforcing the knowledge with more reading.
It also left him with a figure to look up to and he would spend many many years trying to be more like his dad; trying to be more patient, intelligent and kind to those around him. He has forever been stuck with his boyhood impression of his dad as a towering figure to aspire to be, never disabused of those childish ideas.
Not to say he was distant from his mum, however there wasn't quite the same intense bond between them as he had with his dad, as it fell to her to be the one who was strict with him and teach him right from wrong. As such he did always feel more frustration with his mother than his dad and even as a young child they had many arguments. Something which would become a theme as he grew up.

As Einar got older, starting around when he was eight, his mother decided to try and put his mind to better use than simply sitting around reading all day. She attempted this by pushing him into an apprenticeship with the local carpenter. At first everyone was happy with the arrangement, Einar took to the work with the same keenness he applies to anything that interests him but after a few months the repetitive nature of the work began to bore him, making the same general shapes over and over again failed to capture him the way it did when he was first learning how to do it. As a result his motivation dwindled and he ended up being more of a nuisance than he was any help so the carpenter threw him out.
His mother was a stubborn woman and despite her first attempt at this ending in failure she persisted and found another apprenticeship for Einar, a stone mason this time. This ended much the same as the last one and so did the next couple she attempted to push him into including smithing, tailoring and even butchery. After a while word got around and even a woman as persuasive and forceful as his mother couldn't get anyone else to take him in, too poor was his reputation. This left Einar at a bit of a loose end with a breadth of rudimentary knowledge but little real skill in anything.
This started a bit of a rebellious phase in Einar, with him doing everything in his power to avoid any kind of responsibility and dive instead into the things that interested him. This often led him outside of the town where he'd experiment with any ideas he came up with as best he could, with only sticks, stones and some snatched string. They never panned out as he wanted them to, but it was the only form of expression he felt he had for himself at the time.
This all coincided with the birth of his younger brother, who took up much of Einar's fathers time as his mother was too busy working to do much in terms of childcare. Which did leave Einar feeling somewhat unwanted, which only made him spend more time away from others.
Time went on and rather than grow to fit in, Einar instead made himself more at home away from others. The only time he was found in town was when he went around begging the tradesmen for old unwanted tools and whatever bits of materials they couldn't make use of. He'd then take it all to a small space he'd slowly put together in the nearby woods and spend time trying to make anything that came to mind, typically with little success owing to both his lack of real skill as well as his shoddy, incomplete toolset. Still, he did pick up a few tips and tricks during this time. More than anything else, the main thing he learned during all this time was one of the few things his dad has ever demanded of him, that he note down and record anything that he thought was interesting. By the end of these years he had a stack of notebooks filled with illegible scrawl and shoddy diagrams.
Einar was not particularly anti-social, he even had a reasonable number of friends about the town who he'd gladly spend time with, however they would all have something to do during the day, and he would grow dreadfully bored if he just sat around and waited for them to be done which led to him spending an incredible amount of time hiding away, tinkering with things. The real issue he faced was that once he got stuck into a project then everything else would be forgotten until he was done which gave plenty of people the impression he didn't want to speak to anyone when in reality he was just distracted.
Life continued in this fashion for a few years, long enough for his brother to grow up and start working a trade of his own. He ended up apprenticed to a leatherworker, as Einar had made most of the other tradesmen in the town wary of taking in someone related to him, in case his brother had the same motivation issues as Einar.

This almost idyllic lifestyle was bound to come to an end eventually and it did when Einar was fifteen. The Civil Wars had finally reached them. The local lord sent recruiters out to the nearby towns in order to raise some extra troops for the coming times, however when they found a lack of willing volunteers they turned to conscription. Any able bodied men older enough to swing a sword properly were brought into the lord's army and given some basic training. This included Einar and his father, though his younger brother was spared being only eight at the time.
The next few months were miserable, as Einar was throw through exercise after exercise and drill after drill. He was eventually spared from his fate as a foot soldier, as it turned out that while Einar had a keen mind for facts and figures, he still tended to think too much while watching someone punch him in the face. He received many, many punishments over the course of his training for being far too slow to react to anything whenever he was sparring, or being the only person in the formation who was lagging several seconds behind the rest when orders were given. Eventually one of his sergeants had had enough of him and sent him away to do menial tasks on the more logistical side of things.
While there someone noticed his knack for numbers and general proficiency when it came to organising and indexing. This came about when one of his superiors realised he was slightly too good at the gambling games the soldiers often played and accused him of cheating after that superior had a particularly poor evening. He ended up having to explain that he was just keeping an eye on what everyone had and taking a few educated guessed from there. He ended up getting thrown behind a desk, handling reports, collating information and generally handling a lot of the day to day administration of a military force, alongside a handful of others.
While it certainly saved his life, Einar wasn't at all happy during this time. Day after day of the same numbers and lists sucked the life from him and this was coupled with his constant worries about his dad, who was still stuck with the infantry and was fighting on the frontline.
Einar knew that it was only a matter of time before the worst happened and it didn't take too long before it did. Less than a full year after they were conscripted that he received the news of his fathers death on the field. It was news that left a cut deeper than he could've possibly realised at the time but even then his grief was intense. He never even had a chance to hold a funeral or bury his dad, as anyone unimportant was simply left of the battlefield to be picked over by crows and scavengers.
Driven by grief Einar only had one thing on his mind, leave. Desertion was normally difficult in an army, but just after a battle and when the deserted was the one who decided the sentry shifts? Much less so. It was a pretty easy task to leave a gap between sentry shifts just long enough for him to slip out and to skim a few provisions off of the top of the stores to be getting on with. With his preparations in place, he fled. He travelled for some time briefly stopping by at his home late a night to leave a letter to his mother and brother and grab a few key possessions of his before setting off again, with no clear destination in mind.

For the next decade of his life Einar fell into a constant pattern of travelling, doing a few jobs for people whenever he ran of out money or supplies, perhaps even settling down in a place for month or two before once again picking up sticks and moving on again. He felt he had to keep moving, as the longer he spent in one place and the more comfortable he grew somewhere the more his mind would start to wander, to reflect and look back and Einar did not want to look back.
This time was certainly not wasted, even if Einar himself thinks that it was. The constant need to make a good impression on new communities and become, albeit briefly, accept among them did wonders for his social skills. Even if he still carried plenty of grief with him, he steadily learnt that people tended not to trust someone who was quiet and brooding anywhere near as much as someone who was friendly and bought everyone a pint. In some ways, forcing himself to be cheerful and outgoing helped as he started to buy into the lie himself and nearer the end of the decade he was able to effortlessly be the cheery and outgoing person he wanted everyone else to think he was.
He also learned a huge amount over these years, both in terms of random skills he picked up while doing all kinds of odd jobs for people as well as more useful skills that he'd actually put to use. For example, he wasn't always able to find a town or village to restock his rations when he ran out so Einar put his head to use learning how to build traps for small game and then prepare what he'd caught from a book he'd found in one of the towns he had spent a few months at. It was easy enough for him to put the traps together but it took much longer than he'd like to admit for him to start figuring out where to put them in order to actually catch something.
The other benefit of doing dozens of different odd jobs for people was that he ended up with a robust set of tools that he collected over the years, slowly upgrading and filling in the gaps from his old set, begged and borrowed off of the tradesmen of his hometown. This allowed him to pursue his interests much more easily, especially since he now actually had some money with which to purchase materials for him to play with. In fact, when he did stay anywhere for a chunk of time it was mostly an indicator that he was working on a project of some kind, generally trying to put together some idea he's had or study something in the area that caught his eye.
The only skill that he actively trained any worked on was his note taking, something he did in many ways to remember and honour his dad, since it was one of the few things his dad had ever properly insisted he did. So he catalogued and noted down anything he found interesting or any ideas he had, accompanied by diagrams for both clarity and to help him think. In doing all of this, Einar realised that he had begun to find more joy in learning about things himself rather than simply reading about them in some book he found which began to lead him down the path of a researcher. Every year he would fill several notebooks with a mix of studies, ideas, imagined inventions and his own personal musings about life. He ended up making a game of writing in his notebooks; he would challenge himself to think harder than normal by doing things such as changing the language he wrote in each sentence or having to sketch things he had seen that day out from memory alone.
It was rarely enough for his mind to be constrained to pages anymore and Einar would attempt to build many of his ideas although almost none would actually work. He wouldn't be deterred by his failures though, if anything he enjoyed them more than he would success, they certainly gave him more to write about at least.
The return of the Xitians was something Einar only found out about a few years into his travels and he felt a little excited about the prospect of finding out what they might know, what secrets they might hold that the Middle Realm was as of yet unaware of. This didn't quite pan out as he had hoped as the few Xitians he did meet were not exactly willing to engage in proper thought provoking discussion with a wandering stranger.

When Einar turned twenty six, he'd gotten tired of the constant travelling and decided to put down roots somewhere, at least for a while so he could pursue some of the larger ideas he had come up with rather than being forced to stick with small projects he could work on as he travelled. He ended up settling down in a rather quiet little rural village where most people had some sort of need for a general handyman and he used that work as his main profession while he used his free time to tinker.
One of his favorite things to do would be to help some of the farmers bring their goods to market in a town a few days travel from the village and while he was there, stock up on materials which he'd put in the farmer's cart for the return journey. It let him make the trips much more easily than having to lug the materials in a sack for a few days and he got paid while doing it.
Settling down also allowed him to acquire some larger tools that can't be easily brought with you, such as anvils or vices. Which allowed him to experiment with wood and metal like he'd never been able to before, as well as expanding the services he could provide to the village. While he was by no means a skilled worker, he had put together enough know how over the years to manage most of the simple jobs that the village required of him. He might not be able to shoe a horse or make nice furniture but if all somebody wanted was nails and an ugly table that wouldn't break in half when you leant on it he could manage that much.
He enjoyed his time in the village, for once actually practicing and refining his skills in earnest rather than moving on as soon as he grew bored with something but his true passion still laid in his side projects, as Einar attempted to make little devices and mechanisms. Most of his efforts where attempts to make things move by themselves. Like getting the horses on a model wagon to pull it along without using any sort of rune engineering or getting an object to move through the air as he wanted it to. These sort of ideas fascinated Einar and despite finding little success he had fun with them. He'd often end up donating his failures to the local children, who would play with them since while they didn't do what Einar initially intended, they were often still quite good as toys.
He spent around two years in that rural village and by that time he'd experimented with most of the ideas he'd thought of at that time and he felt like he'd refined his skills as far as they would go from doing the simple jobs around the village, jobs he'd grown utterly bored with. So he began to look further afield, deciding it was about time for him to go study something that always sparked his interest but was something that would require quite the drastic set of measures to actually go and investigate.

Einar decided it was finally time to take a trip to the Forbidden Lands and learn what he can about dragons.

Character family: : Mother: A stern woman whose expectations Einar always failed to meet, leading to many arguments.
Father: A gentle and patient man with a love for books and knowledge that Einar will always carry with him.
Younger Brother: A good kid who Einar often treated harsher than he should've owning to his brother actually meeting their mothers standards.

Birth Realm: : Middle Realm

Continent: : Mainland

Items: : A handful of simple tools for wood and metalwork.

A couple of partially filled notebooks and implements for writing and drawing in them.

General kit for survival, including basic medical supplies.

Additional comments: : Here's hoping I've not forgotten anything important.

Also 'Character Culture' claims to be optional but requires filling to submit the application.

You have read: : --- The Main Lore,--- The Races,--- An already approved application,--- Additional lore,--- Other texts that helped me write my application

[Approved] Application - Pidgeyxo

Sat, 04 Jan 2020 22:44:43 +0000

In Game Name (IGN):
pidgeyxo
How did you find us?
Forums
About You:
Hi, my name is Sara, I'm in my early 20's and am from Canada. I enjoy role-playing and would love to do so on Minecraft.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Alvina Caron
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance: Alvina is an average height standing at 5'4. She is slender, has long dark brown hair, dark brown almond shaped eyes, pale skin, and rosy cheeks.
Personality: Alvina tends to be quiet, and is often seen by others as reserved. However, she is perceptive and learns quickly. She is also quick to adapt to her surrounding. She is kind as a result of her upbringing.
Backstory:
Alvina Caron was born in 29 AV towards the end of the civil war. Her family had fled their old war torn town, seeking a peaceful place to prosper. She was the oldest of six children, and grew up in poverty on a small, isolated farm on the mainland. The plot the family resided on had very little fertile land, and using it for farming was a feat in itself. Her father Georgus did have experience in farming but that was cut short when he came of age to fight in the civil war.

Her mother Lyanna and father had met while Georgus was stationed in a small town. They fell in love, causing Georgus and Lyanna to flee into the wilderness. After two days hiking through a forest, they settled on unclaimed lands. Her father put his tradesman skills to use, building a small cabin.

Alvina was isolated from the majority of the civil war, but in order to trade her father would trek back to that same small town he met his wife to trade their excess crops for necessities. During one of his treks he heard rumblings about the Dusk Gate opening. He passed on this news to Lyanna which Alvina overheard. Alvina did not understand the significance of this at the time, so she dismissed it.

In 44 AV, her father became deathly ill from a sickness he had caught while in town. The illness overtook him quickly, and within the next two weeks he passed away. This left Alvina and her family to fend for themselves. Alvina began to play a much larger role in tending to the family's farm, but it was her younger brothers who would make the trips back to town for trade.

Mid-year, 48 AV, her brothers left to town but were never to be seen again. Alvina, her mother, and her younger sister waited for two weeks before finally coming to terms with the fact that something had obviously gone wrong. Alvina's mother was grief stricken. Her sister, only 16 at the time, and Alvina both knew they couldn't continue to survive this way without her brothers' help. It had already been tough enough without her father. They finally convinced her mother to travel to civilization with them to try and restart their lives.

Alvina's sister met a young man while in a settlement, and fell in love. Her mother encouraged Alvina to do the same, and find a spouse to take care of her, but Alvina wanted more. With nothing left for her on the Mainland, Alvina decided to make the journey to the Forbidden Lands to start her new life.

Capabilities:
Major Skills
1) Farming - Competent
Alvina grew up on a small farm, and after her father's passing she had to assist her brothers with maintaining the family farm.

2) Writing - Apprentice
Alvina does not have very much experience in writing however she is passionate about it. In her free time she enjoys writing short stories, and keeps a diary to document daily happenings.

3)Tailoring - Competent
Alvina gained this skill during childhood, assisting her mother with patching up her siblings' clothing.

Minor Skills
1) Cuisine - Apprentice
Growing up, Alvina cooked alongside her mother, but as she grew up and had to take on more responsibilities (helping with the farm) helping prepare her family's meals stopped being such a priority.

2) Leadership - Apprentice
Being that Alvina is the oldest sibling in her family, she had to provide her siblings some direction when they had to take over the family farm.
Items:
A tarnished silver bracelet her father gifted her when she was a baby, a packet of old crop seeds, and the clothes on her back.
Additional Comments:
None

[Approved] Saeunn Xia ~+~

Thu, 12 Sep 2019 17:42:19 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): kaleidoscope_kal

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Saeunn Xia.

Age: 23.

Gender: Female.

Appearance:

Island blood runs through Saeunn's veins. With exotic ink coursing over her arms, it wraps itself around her body proudly, each with a meaning.

Sae comes from a traditional house, therefore meaning she had went through a ritual which her people called 'Fattening', where shortly after reaching puberty, the individual is kept indoors and fed copious amounts of food to enhance allure. Because of this, Sae is filled out where it counts, sporting a more tiny frame but baring an hourglass figure her family boosts about, along with muscle from physical labour.

Her eyes and hair are a natural brown, her eyes close to glimmering with hazel tones. Her hair resembles chocolate waves with golden streaks flowing down on them, gifted to her by the hours spent surfing and working. Her skin is naturally tanned and resembles a light caramel, both naturally and from hours in the sun.

She wears more revealing clothes, only covering the bare necessities and what looks like could fit as both swimwear and everyday wear. With green accents, as if mimicking leaves, her clothes are all simple brown leathers, amongst black fabric for swimwear. Leaf bracelets and anklets litter her bare feet and arms.

Personality:

She's sweet, honestly, but Sae isn’t a woman who likes to beat around the bush. She's very outspoken and maybe a bit too physical, but that had never stopped her before. She's not the best with words, so she speaks with exaggerated hand gestures as if they make up for her lack of speaking.

Unsurprisingly, she has an affinity to animals. Animals of all kinds are her specialty, but she seems the most comfortable around livestock.

She has violent streaks in her, so while she can be happy one second, she can be angry and threatening her conversation partner the next. She doesn’t apologize all the time for it, but if she went too far after she calmed down, she would. She does, however, make this problem of hers known.

Backstory:

Amongst her tropical homeland, where sailors that sipped from the land’s coconuts a bit too much and regretted it afterwards, lived a few quiet, quaint primitive villages of mostly roughly tanned men and women. Having taken to fishing the most, they lived a very ocean-dependent life, until the sailor brought more interesting livestock that varied from their own.

It was around this time that a restless child named Saeunn was born, also in the year 26 AV - particularly in winter - that upstaged what was meant to be a small, peaceful family. Saeunn’s mother was a very light hearted women, who didn’t seem to have too much to say about her daughter’s constant punching of them, as she had only assumed this was normal for an offspring of the tribe’s ‘military’ (if one could even call their team a military, if not efficient men, they were certainly lacking in numbers) leader. Her mother was a foreigner to their lands, with her narrowed eyes and abnormally pale skin and dainty body, whilst her father was a huge bulking mass of muscle and pure masculinity, with tribal tattoos littering his darker skin. Yes, an odd pair they made.

In her coming years, disasters of many shook their home, with what of the dusk gate spark when she was only almost 3. The civil war came to an end - but not without loss, even in their tiny village. Saeunn would grow up around the depressed young men; and she would often be the source of their anger, seeing as she was the daughter of the man they blamed. Kids often were too young to understand, afterall.

It was around this time, when she would drag herself home from their school, littered in bruises and punches that her father would have had enough; and sought how to protect his young, while her mother looked in slight horror.

Saeunn grew up well educated, despite her frequent ruffles with the boys of her class. She was known as a rowdy woman that eventually, begun winning her fights by the age of 14. It was then, during this year, that the Dusk Gate opened. Suddenly with all the panic, she found herself being holed up in her hut even more, and her father gone much longer than before. It was often just her and her mother, and this was when her womanly skills were taught. Her mother gifted her the gentle instrument of a piano, and to Saeunn’s surprise, truly did like it. She practiced for hours on end when she wasn’t tending to their sheep and cattle, when she wasn’t wrestling with the hogs or picking fights with those that casted her odd looks.

Saeunn, however, remained mainly innocent until the year of their first arrival, when she was engaged in a daily fight, that her and the group of teens saw the horror that was the first dragon to bring fire to their coconut groves. Angry and confused, she saw what was her father’s battle cry - but to never see her father again in his attempt to save a child.

It took her mother and her awhile to recover, and the village was in shambles that very night. They sat there, clinging to each other and crying. But Saeunn took after her father the most, so she sniffled one last time and brought her mother up by the arm, conveying her emotions through eyes rather than words.

It was then that the village came together and decided that in a few years, they would allow all of their young to move if they wish. Saeunn, however, wasn’t granted a say; for her mother was stronger than she looked, apparently, and told her daughter sternly that one woman wallowing in self pity was more than enough.

So, it came 4 years later that Saeunn had left, a different journey for all the youth, with a lasting sad look to her homeland. She held not the faintest idea on what would transpire amongst the new land she was to move to, but who knew. The woman was a grown adult now and, by all means, she had looked her part. She filled into the endomorph body the woman of her tribe were gifted with, while maintaining her muscles from her now-friendly spars and tree climbing, hog wrestling and assorted activities, she also remained a well-practiced pianist, amongst a knowledgeable rancher, taught to her by her mother along with the other duties of a woman that her tribe was given.

So, she set off with a steeled mind. Yes, she was leaving to some odd town with these sailors talking of a curse, but it was a new journey.

Capabilities:

- Melee, Apprentice.

- Piano, Competent.

- Animal Husbandry, Competent.

Items: N/A.

Additional Comments N/Ao

[Accepted] Application - Cutecrustacean

Mon, 15 Jul 2019 04:58:38 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): Cutecrustacean
How did you find us? (friend) zeromeeco
About You: I have been a writer and a roleplayer for many years. For some reason, the only method of doing so that interests me tends to be minecraft. You can call me by any of my names IG or otherwise.
I have no gender, and as far as you know I am a space alien in a wig. I like to build things and do digital art in my spare time and I'm studying to be a chemist.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Marc Shaltz
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Shaltz has a slightly stocky build with a toned form with a height of 6ft. He has dark hair shaved short at the sides and brown eyes with an olive complexion

Personality: Shaltz is a typical introvert and what you could call grumpy. He rarely smiles and keeps only a short list of real friends of which he holds a strong bond with. Though he is normally quite stoic and standoffish there are some little joys in life for which Shaltz will lighten up that only those close to him will ever know about. Shaltz does not hold typical values, he values loyalty above all else. If he has pledged his loyalty to a strong leader he will set aside any of his moral objections to carrying out their tasks, just as he would expect from a subordinate of his. The only thing that could break a bond of loyalty would be a stronger bond to a friend.

Backstory: Shaltz was born in AV 29, 16 years into the civil war. His family was one of many constantly in a state of travel after being forced out of their home by the threat of war. They were able to survive for many years but as knews of the dusk gate spark spread it It became increasing hard to scrape by. People became shelfish, hoarding their supplies and giving nothing to the needy. Men grew cold and hard, resorting to robbery and kidnapping to make their money. With no options left his father turned to petty thievery to put food in their bellies. It wasn't long before they were found out and the local guards tracked him back to their wagon. At the time of his sentencing the lord was desperate for cheap labor. He had amassed a mountain of war debts and with the future uncertain in his land he became a greedy cold lord ready to label any criminals caught in his land as worthless low lives along with their families. The courts agreed, and saw to it that his father and brothers were put into slavery, sent to work in the mines where many never returned from. Shaltz and his mother were the only ones spared the mines. His mother was still pregnant with his youngest brother, so she and Shaltz were sent to work in keep of one of the lord's vassals until he was old enough to be shipped off to a labor camp.

Things could have been worse at the keep. Though the gruel smelled of sour old pigs feet and he was forced to scrub and mop the floors non-stop he at least knew he would have enough to survive another day. By now Shaltz was 8 and though he was not expected to break his body in the same manner of his older brothers he was still made to work all day. Lifting heavy boxes, pulling plows, keeping the halls clean. He was not the only boy in captivity there either. Many boys years older than him came from families of actual hardened criminals. Among them you were never safe, a fight could break out at any moment and normally Shaltz was on the wrong end of them. Day after day he was jumped and beaten for his daily bread, but every day he was more prepared. He learned how to fight little by little, holding his own long enough to get a few hits in. By the time he was 13 he had gained respect among the boys and formed a small posse of boys around his age. Like any hot headed boy he used his new found taste of power unwisely, picking fights with other groups of boys to cement his respect among them. But this got him little gains. He instead sought to improve his life in the little ways he could. He began sneaking around the kitchen with his posse, setting up lookouts and picking the keys off the guard's belt to steal extra food for themselves. He got better at sneaking around over time and soon enough didn't need his friends looking out for him every score.

At the age of 14 it was determined that Shalts and some of the older boys in the keep were capable enough to be sent off to a labor camp. And so Shaltz said his goodbyes to his mother and younger brother before being shipped off to the lumber plantation. When they arrived they were greeted by hard faces of the full grown men, it looked like the inside of a prison. Among them there were some women who were just as strong and built as the men around them, it seemed anyone the lord could ensnare was forced to work off his debts. The young boys there assumed they would be back at the bottom of the pile there, and so they remained isolated. Boys who would sooner spit at Shaltz feet than look him in the eye were in a few days of vulnerability turned into close friends. That was how it had to be, or so they thought until Shaltz met the captain. The captain claimed to be a captured officer in an opposing army. Normally one of his rank would merely be ransomed off, but according to the captain he had struck so much fear into the hearts of the enemy that he was a well known target for the opposing officers. And when a stroke a bad luck saw him captured by a vassal of the Lord he was sent to this labor camp to boost morale among his men. After that meeting the captain took Shaltz under his wing. He would train with him in the few hours of down time they had, and watch over him to make sure the guards didn't single him out. He showed him aspects of the camp he would have never discovered otherwise, like the families that had sprung up hidden away some. Some even had young children who Shaltz befriended, but when not among them he was reminded that they would be sent away from their parents when they were old enough. When the captain knew he could trust him he was let in on his secret plan. The captain was planning a break out, in one year they would have gathered enough preparations. But in order to be successful they needed to have everyone on board. It was his job to convince his friends to rally around the cause.

Shaltz never knew why the captain had chosen him. Perhaps he just looked like the grumpiest malcontent of the boys there, or perhaps there was something more he saw in him. Whatever the reason was, the captain had seen fit to make him his second in command. Over the next year Shaltz would recruit every young arrival into their cause, and help the captain with charting their hidden maps of cached tools and weapons. Slowly they build up their resources, Shaltz scouting ahead for guards before they moved supplies and stealing keys off the guards to get into locked supply closets. The armory was never a target, as it would be far too hard to get into with so many guards watching it and residing inside. Instead, Shaltz would track sleepy guards and either steal knives off their belts or wait for them to fall asleep and take their swords. These higher-profile missions were delicate business and required months in between to let the heat die down, but the payoff was a small collection of decent knives and short swords for their men. They mostly sharpened dull tools and worked on simple suits of armor from discarded wood and what cloth they could scrounge up. But most importantly over that year the captain taught him how to be second in command. He taught him lessons of leadership and duty. He regaled him with old war stories in which one small army had no right in hell to win but pulled through with the help of a strong leader. In time Shaltz grew to respect him not only as a friend but as a leader.

That night was one Shaltz would remember for all his days to come. Over a year had passed and Shaltz was 15. He and the others rallied under the light of the moon. Unearthing the caches of small arms and make shift weapons they had stashed away. Carefully they ambushed the patrolling guards, taking out many of their ranks before they were ever noticed. A well trained guard could take a couple of angry slaves on their own but with the coordinated guerrilla attacks designated by the captain they barely had a chance. Many slaves in their ranks fell that day, but many more guardsmen fell in their wake. With some difficulty, they had taken the camp. But all was not victorious. The remaining guards in the camp had taken a small girl hostage and dug themselves into the armory. For the captain's army the answer would be without question. But he was not dealing with his army in the camp. He had a force of angry freedom starved men, some with questionable morals and some who really did deserve to be here. He looked to his second in command, yet not in the stern commanding way he was known for. Shaltz could see it in his eyes, he had a choice to make here. Shaltz was no different than the men under his command. He had lived most of his young life in captivity and now his freedom was within his grasp. But he knew his captain needed his support, and of all things in his cruel life there was nothing he believed in more than that man. Standing tall, Shaltz raised his sword and reaffirmed his loyalty to the captain. As he did so, so too did the men around him raise their swords and pledge to their own victory. Shalts rallied the brunt of the force to the armory whilst the captain set about fortifying the camp, praying no guards had escaped to bring reinforcements. Little by little they broke their way into the armory, losing many men but slowly but surely buying victory with their lives. In the end Shaltz helped to return that young girl to her mother. But just as victory was once more in their grasp it seemed the captain's worst fears were realized. An army of horsemen descended from the local keep. In the haze of slaves running for their lives Shaltz was left wondering what he should do, before a loyal follower of the captain shouted his order to run hell for the wooded hills.

One by one the slaves were picked off by the horsemen. Shaltz just barely made it into the woods with the guardsmen nipping at their heels. By sun rise he was a free man again, for the first time in 7 years he felt his destiny was back in his own hands. Along the road he met a few of the captain's loyal followers, but they had no good news for him. Shaltz never found out what happened to his captain, but he accepted that he had paid for his life that day just like the other slaves who had fallen. Shaltz didn't have an easy time finding work, he tried to stay around the lands in hopes of raising an army to rescue his family. But as reality came crashing down on his childish fantasy he moved on to find work elsewhere. Most of the time he survived off of odd jobs around small villages repairing what he could and hauling what he could lift. It was only when he accepted a job as a bodyguard that things began to look up for him. He was able to survive for several years off of bodyguard details for those looking to travel across the dangerous roadways. He enjoyed the pay it earned him, but it left something to be desired, as all he was really working towards was staving off his own starvation. It wasn't until he was 20 that another opportunity would present itself. Shaltz met a store clerk, one incredibly enthused about cartography that told him of a blooming new town where there was plenty of jobs to go around. Packing up what little things he survived off of the young man put up all of his savings to pay for the boat ride across to the new land where he would hopefully make something of himself.

Capabilities:

Competent Martial Arts-
A sloppy unrefined style but bolstered by years of fighting for his own dinner against uneven odds.

Apprentice Sneaking-
A natural talent for sneaking coupled with years of petty thievery and some real-world experience in guerrilla warfare

Apprentice Melee weapon skills-
Some training from a distinguished officer as well as years of practice as a bodyguard

Novice Leadership-
Light experience with leading and rallying men with most experience serving him in his ability to take orders.

Novice lumbering-
Some light experience working in a lumbering plantation.

Novice Pick pocket-
Some experience picking pockets.

minor-
Weapon upkeep-
The ability to keep his weapon clean and in working order especially when on the road.
handyman's gut-
The uncanny ability to worm his way into odd jobs and do a decent job half of the time.
camping skills-
The ability to light fires, set up tents, craft torches, and cook rations without killing himself.

Items: Simple grey gambeson. Worm short sword. Sturdy targe. tattered tent. Hunting knife. Band of rope. Small pot. Chunk of overly salted meat. Bag of surplus oats. Lousy bedroll. Tinderbox. Box of pins and needles. Few coins. half bottle of oil. Old whetstone. Spare trousers and shirt.

[Approved] ZeroMeeco Whitelist Application

Thu, 11 Jul 2019 07:54:55 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): zeromeeco
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…) Google
About You: Im 22 years old, started at the beginning of this year working as a dental assistant with plans to one day become a hygienist. Ive been RPing in various forms since I was 14 years old and have always loved RP in minecraft due to the visuals and just crazy stories and the lasting friendships that can happen. However, I havent had a server to play on in nearly 2 years and would like to start playing again with my friends and meet some new people on a good server.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Carlow Greyfellow
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Appearance: Carlow stands at 5'9 inches tall with shaggy black hair and green eyes. He's got naturally tanned skinned with scars running along his forearms and along his hands. He's typically seen wearing a grey shirt thats beginning to fray along with a pair of brown trousers and a set of worn, leather forearm bracers
Personality: Carlow is a generally kind fellow who grew up appreciating the value of human life. That being said he wouldnt hesitate to kill someone if they attempt to kill him or those close to him. He's not extremely social but once he gets talking it can be hard to shut up him and while he'd have no problem telling a total stranger his life story should they ask he would refrain giving his opinion on certain matters until he knew the whole story, if he tells it at all
Backstory: born in the middle of the civil war during 22 AV Carlows upbringing was a difficult one. His parents were traveling salespeople and due to the instability of the region they regularly had to hire guards and it wasnt totally uncommon for fights to break out. Due to this he had to learn to defend himself from a young age, finding the bow more of an easier weapon than a large sword. The boys naturally slighter frame made wielding larger broad swords impossible and he even had difficulty with smaller blades. Despite this his family still loved their work and kept traveling around the land and selling to many of the towns, not picking sides in the conflict and mainly helping out those smaller towns that were caught in the middle of conflicts. This allowed Carlow to learn the skill of businesses and sales nearly from the time he was first able to speak. With the end of the civil war when he was 11 his parents decided that it was time to stop traveling and opened up their own general store in a small town, having another kid as well. The opening of the dusk gate cementing their resolve to stay in a town where its safer than on the open road.
Suddenly going from a life of constant movement to one of stationary though didnt sit too well with the young boy and by the time he was 14 he was looking for ways out. Befriending a couple of the local guards he found out about an exploration mission deep into the forest and decided to team up with them as a hired hand to get out of the town for awhile. The trip lasted two years. During that time Carlow befriended the cartographer that accompanied the team. Upon seeing a fresh map for the first time, his parents normally taken obvious roads, he was amazed at just how much information was such a small piece of paper. Over those couple years he developed a love for the craft and became the map makers apprentice. After the expedition finally got back to the town his family had settled in he began working in the family shop once more but also keeping up his newly acquired skills by mapping out the town and its surrounding area, making some pocket money selling copies to new people coming in as the town grew, and this was his life until the time he turned 27. With his younger brother helping run the shop with his father and even a couple cousins who moved into town, he felt like his family didnt need him and he decided to branch out on his own, wanting to see if he could become as successful as his father. So one morning, after a lot of conversing with his family, he packed a bag with some basic supplies and a few tools and boarded a boat heading to a more recent town he heard was growing and might need more citizens.

Capabilities: Competent buissiness-man, apprentice archery, competent cartographer
Items: blank pieces of paper, and couple blank maps,
Additional Comments: sorry about all the strange font with this. I copied it over from the example page and then when I would click to auto correct something it would change size of the entire paragraph and I cant figure out how to fix it.

[Approved] Regis Tinurnen

Mon, 30 Jul 2018 04:28:45 +0000

In Game Name (IGN):
MAHTIII3
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)
Started looking for a serious roleplaying server and Google sent me here. I'm really impressed by what I've seen so far.
About You:
17M-Have been playing Minecraft along with D&D for about a year but have play RPG video games since I was about 9. My favorites so far being the the "Witcher" series. Avid reader and an aspiring writer. My current D&D group has hit a bit of a rut due to a character death so I'm sort of trying to fill that RP niche here.

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name:
Regis

Age:
29
Gender:
Male

Appearance:
Regis is a stocky, well built, dark skinned man, standing at a respectable 5’8 with hazel eyes, and closely shaven, black hair that causes his off-center widow's peak to become even more noticeable. His face is relatively boring save for his salt-and-pepper the salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin that often has him mistaken as someone a bit older and the scar going down his left eye to his thin mouth. Never the most fashionable, Regis can usually be seen wearing a plain, but tighter fitting shirt and pants in an effort to make finding work a bit easier by showing of his defined stature, along with a pair of combat gloves covering his calloused hands and his pack in which he Carrie's provisions and equipment. Underneath his shirt you can see the beginning of a scar that reaches from his collar bone to his naval.

Personality:
Regis is relatively laid back. He isn't very quick to temper unless you threaten those he considers friends; in which case which he is fiercely loyal to. He always tries to keep in good spirits yet keep a respectable impression on others and is always wary of those who seem a bit too friendly. Due to his upbringing, Regis refuses to indulge in alcohol or any other substances that affect a man's mind and is focused on keeping his body in the best condition possible. He isn't too keen on frivolous nights of passion or spending, usually spending most of his money on things that'll keep him alive such as food and arms. He often finds himself keeping himself busy; subconsciously trying to avoid dwelling on the fate of his mother, which still affects him greatly to this day and causes him trouble sleeping. The code of honor instilled upon him by his mentor, Mi-Agi, prevents Regis from taking on jobs he views as malicious or unnecessary harmful and hasn't killed anyone. He also tries to avoid jobs that involve boats or large bodies of water on account that he never learned to swim(this is a closely guarded secret). Regis is very partial to young children and refuses to do any harm to them. Besides these “limitations” Regis is too picky about the jobs he takes-as long as the pay is fair.

Backstory:
Regis grew up in a brothel. The illegitimate son of Councilman Martin and a common prostitute, Faye, He was born in the year 19AV and raised in the village of Ikïri. Though the Civil War was still raging, Irïki was far enough from the main battles that it only resulted in the villagers surviving off of rations and various men being having to leave to fight.

By the time he was 9, Regis had gained the reputation of being the “strong, silent" type; being less rowdy than the other boys. He'd made a few friends, his closest being a young and spirited street rat, Skitz and his most peculiar being an on/off guard at the brothel named Mi-Agi. The guard would come and go throughout Regis’ life due to the war but he was always kind and friendly to Regis. The children of the slums grew up relatively normally considering their circumstances. They were never full but didn't know true starvation due to most of their mothers giving the children half of their rations along with their own, although they were always competing amongst themselves for certain luxuries and extra food. These scraps would culminate into into regular wrestling matches among the boys. Regis would spend his younger days practicing with such fights with Skitz(becoming quite good and the second best due to some natural strength), learning about the world from Mi-Agi’s war stories when he was around and learning how to read and write from his mother. Regis knew who his father was but that since he wasn't around, he wasn't important.

The night that changed Regis’ life came around about the same year the Dusk Gate first sparked. An 11 year old Regis awoke to aggressive yelling within he and his mother’s quarters; the brothel owner, Shy, was drunk again, had chosen Faye as his comfort for the night, and began undressing her, ignoring her protests. Regis sprung into action; putting himself between Shy and his mother. Still intoxicated, the old owner found this amusing and, turning the situation into a game, challenged Regis to one of his “scrappins". As soon as the enraged boy nodded, the owner was on him-smashing the boy into the wall repeatedly. Shy was old, but had some weight about him. This along with the speed of the attack attributed to Regis’ slow reaction. He soon gathered his bearings, maneuvered out of Shy’s grab into a position where his hands were around the owner's thighs (meaning to grab his waist but he's only fought children until now) and shifted his weight in an effort to flip the old man. Because of the unbalance, Regis and Shy fell to the side instead of backwards. As they came down, the side of Shy’s head smacked onto a bedpost and they landed in a heap; Regis rose first and was frozen in place, stunned by the blood emerging from the old man's skull. Faye called for Mi-Agi as she saw Shy rise slowly with his hand to his temple and yell with rage as he saw the blood coming from his wound. In his rage, with no hesitation, The old brothel owner unsheathed the small knife he kept in his boot and slashed Regis diagonally across the chest. But before he could continue he could bring the knife back to stab again, Mi-Agi tackled him to the ground and held him there while Faye picked up Regis and fled the room.

The cut wasn't very deep, but was painful. Faye had taken Regis to Mi-Agi’s home where, luckily, the soldier had seen and treated small cuts like this before. Faye had to return to the brothel but she left Regis to stay with Mi-Agi. The two became even closer and Mi-Agi began teaching Regis to treat wounds such as his along with how to REALLY fight, even teaching him how to use a blade in case the Shy ever came looking for him. This arrangement lasted four weeks during which, Regis began a rigorous training schedule; becoming stronger and faster alone with learning the art of the sword. He also received regular visits from Skitz and his mother. The latter seemingly paler and paler after every visit despite her cheery attitude. The morning of Regis’ fifth week with Mi-Agi, his father had come for him. News of Regis’ fight with Shy had traveled even to the Councilman. Martin and his personal guard arrived at the door and informed Regis that his mother had passed during the night due to a disease contracted from her profession. The Councilman “would not allow one of his blood to live such a sad life" while he was able to take action(the truth being he was much too proud to allow another man to raise his child). For half the day, Regis refused to go with his father, went back to the brothel, saw the news about his mother was true and grieved for another day. Martin arrived alone the day after that, now offering much better training facilities and the opportunity to do so with his current mentor if he so wished. Again Regis initially refused but Mi-Agi claimed it 3was the life his mother would've wanted for him and that he'd be with Regis along the way. Finally, Regis accepted and began moving in with Martin, his wife Cecilia, Regis’ younger half brother and sister: Samson and Skye.

Regis was treated somewhat fairly with his new family but everything in regards to him had a somewhat pitying or condescending tone; keeping him from truly feeling like part of the family. The rest of his adolescent and teenage year wants as follows up until around 36 AV: mornings were spent on schooling and learning about the world and its events, afternoons consisted of which became even more effective now that the Civil War was over and Mi-Agi could be around more often. He taught Regis his code of honor and to never kill unless it is absolutely necessary for his own survival. His father's new facilities even gave them access to new equipment such as armor and shields. Nights were often extra training sessions or exercise. A result of Regis not being able to sleep well after his mother's passing and regretting that he never got to say goodbye. Regis would spend most of his free time with Skitz (due to his new family members not wanting much to do with him or being busy with their own hobbies and his father being away on secrets meetings) up until he was arrested for stealing a loaf of bread. Regis never saw him again after that. By the time he was 16(34 AV), Regis was comparable to a real world linebacker, fairly knowledgeable on current events, and proficient in sword and shield combat. His sister had become proficient in runes and his brother was following in their father's footsteps to become a politician.

At 18, Regis and Mi-Agi were both given leadership roles in Martin's personal defense force( all four of the Councilmen had one and the the leader of the village, Consul Charles, had what was equal to two) of 20. Just in time for his usurpation of the title of Consul. Unbeknownst to Regis, Martin saw the Consul as weak willed and to leineint on the people of Irïki and had been conspiring to overthrow and kill Consul Charles and had been meeting with the other Councilmen to convert them to his cause; and it was time to begin. Regis and his group were sent on “peacekeeping missions" for years. Destroying and arresting supposed thieves, vandalists, and corrupt establishments, soldiers and officials without knowing that they were merely supporters of Charles. As part of his manipulation, Martin began more compassionate with Regis to help keep his guard and suspicion down. Regis began to finally feel pride in his family, ignoring the aging Mi-Agi’s suggestions that something about their missions wasn't right. By 27(47 AV),Regis had thrown himself into his father's revolution and the talks of Xitians returning and dragons arriving in far away lands had little bearing in his mind. Mi-Agi remained loyal by his apprentices side despite his reservations and the two keys parts of the usurpation. Right up until the final mission. The Councilman's combined forces stormed the Consul’s mansion and cut a swathe of violence through the remaining opposition, Regis and his mentor being the only two not to kill anyone. As the fighting stopped, Martin's forces had the Consul and his family on their knees in surrender, thinking this was where the battle was over, Regis sheathed his weapon. Mi-agi's stayed in his hand.But Martin had no such thought and ordered them all executed in cold blood. The soldiers complied with no hesitation. Regis ran to his father in protest but as soon as he put his hand on his shoulder, Martin told him he'd “outlived his usefulness” and was “a blemish on his reputation that can finally be removed.” Martin ordered his soldiers to kill his son and his mentor. Before he could think, Regis was pushed out of of the main chamber and as the doors slammed closed, there was a glimpse of his mentor attacking Martin as he yelled “RUN!” Regis tried to get back in but the doors were locked from the inside all he could hear was the clanging of metal. He never found out if Mi-Agi survived. As he made his escape, Regis was chased by soldiers but lost them by running through the slums-shortcuts he'd memorized since childhood- and shedding his armor along the way.

Regis stole a horse from the village stables and fled without looking back;knowing he'd be killed if he ever returned. Carrying the guilt of what he brought upon his village, he traveled for two years, taking on bodyguard and mercenary jobs to fund his ever expanding journey. Regis finally stopped riding and reluctantly used the last of his money to buy a boat ticket to a place in in the Forbidden Lands where his father would never find him: a small lake town called Nightveil. He arrived tomorrow.

Capabilities:
Hand to Hand Combat: Fist Fighting/ Wrestling- Competent- spent early childhood wrestling and learned some fisticuffs from Mi-Agi
Armored Combat: Sword and Shield- Advanced- Spent entire teen and adult life learning from licensed trainers and Mi-Agi
Light Wound Treatment: Cuts, scratches slashes- Apprentice- taught some simple but effective techniques from Mi-Agi
Can't swim

Items:
Iron or Stone sword- whichever is more acceptable
Shield
3 Pork Chops(salted meats)

Additional Comments:
I know the backstory might be a bit long and I can edit as needed.
I want to give Regis a birthday but I wasn't able to find a real calendar on the forum so if I could be referenced to one I'd really appreciate it.
All advice and criticism is appreciated.

[/align]

[Approved] Application - kalokagamer

Sun, 08 Jul 2018 19:51:24 +0000

In Game Name (IGN):
[kalokagamer]
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)
[https://www.minecraftforum.net/forums/se...aft-server]
About You:
[I really like role playing. I am however not very experienced. I play mass effect and some random mmo-rpgs also skyim and I am currently playing dragon age origins (witch I absolutely love its fantastic). ]
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name:
[Tom Farwell]
Age:
[20]
Gender:
[Male]
Appearance:
[physically fit, smart, 180m tall, good stamina, white slightly tanned skin, average eyesight, normal pitch voice, skinny, quite muscular]
Personality:
[serious, quick tempered, slightly autistic, committed to his believes, hardened]
Backstory:
[Tom was born and raised in a isolated town in the middle realm. The people there were mostly hunter and farmers. Being born in 29AV at the end of the civil war when the resources where rare his mother died. His Father raised him to the best of his abilities but he was young and knew little about children. On top of the rumours were beginning do spread about a spark at the dusk gate. One day in the first quarter of the year 32AV his father did not return from the Hunt. The next day his body was found in the woods with his throat ripped out and his legs tore to shreds.
Tom was adopted by his neighbours and his life turned to the better with the end of the civil war in 33AV and a good harvest season.
However, this peace should be broken soon when the reopening of the dusk gate in 35AV brang fear over the lands of the middle realm once again. Tom now 6 years old was like every child in the village being trained in the art of war which the, just slightly paranoid (you can’t blame the for it considering the events of the last 3 decades), village people saw right around the corner. He learned to shoot a bow and at the age of 8 his stepfather started to teach him how to forge a blade in and took him as an apprentice in his blacksmith. The work was hard and certainly not fit for a child but the people of sad town where hardened from life and soon he became too. With whispers about the Xitians emerging again and end of the world predictions being made by superstitions old people Tom had a difficult childhood to say the least.
When Tom reached the 14th year of his life his stepmother, which he had come to love a great deal passed away from some to him unknow illness with her breathing which made her caught all the time. A difficult childhood indeed. When the dragon came upon the middle lands nobody in the village had any clue what those horrific beast were. They had not heard anything from the outside world since a few years so they blamed it on the Xitians who had ironically been the ones that warned the rest of the middle realm early. Not that it made a difference on Tom’s fait where they came from. Tom now being 17 years old returned from hunting one day and all he came back to were the ashes of his village. Tom tried to cry but he could not. He had to may horrible things happen to him to still have the ability to cry. So that day he left his home with nothing but a bow a sword and the cloths he had on his body. ]
Capabilities:
[Competent smithing, Advanced Hunting, Apprentice Swordsman ]
Items:
[Bow, Arrows, Iron Sword, Hunting cloths]
Additional Comments:
[English is not my mother tongue so I apologize if my grammar is not top-noch and my typing is flawed. If there are better ways to say something please tell me. ]

[Approved] Application - DarkDaash

Mon, 11 Jun 2018 19:04:15 +0000

PLAYER INFORMATION

In Game Name (IGN):

DarkDaash

How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)

A website called 'The Roleplay Periodical'.

About You:

I have been a player of Minecraft since the days of beta 1.6, and have been roleplaying for about three to four years now. I am an avid writer, composer, and performing musician who enjoys partaking in cooperative storytelling, and hopes to get plenty of it. It has been quite some time since my last Minecraft roleplay, and this server seems to house the quality I have been wanting.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name:

Alvinorinthian "Alvi" Norvaticus Sephecur

Age:

Gender:

Male

Appearance:

Alvi is quite distinct regarding his looks. Despite being twenty-four, and his voice within a tenor range, his face is the epitome of boyishness, being round, normally with a wide smile set upon it. It doesn't help that he stands at a measly 5'3" making him look as if he were a child. Other than his childish, he sports velvet red hair and bright green eyes alongside skin colour resembling tan-peach. Concerning clothing, Alvi is typically seen in his black work overalls and black work boots, even when he isn't working. When he does decide to take them off, he is usually seen in a red shirt and beige cargo pants, though this may vary depending on weather and season. However, no matter what, he is always seen with his signature goggles propped atop his forehead. These goggles are quite thick around the lenses and have a black leather strap which is adjustable. The lenses themselves are tinted red and glow when the button atop the goggles is activated, due to it being a runic device.

Personality:

Cheery, optimistic, innocent. These three words describe Alvi the best. Alvi does not believe in evil or bad. Somehow, he manages to find good in everything, and in everyone. He will happily make friends with anyone and everyone if given the chance. However, this makes Alvi unbelievably naive. He will believe everyone and is easily convinced to do things that would typically be wrong to do. He also blindly trusts everyone due to his views on the world. This has landed Alvi in trouble before. Alvi also has an unhealthy need to work and be useful. Alvi's self-worth comes not from finishing tasks, but from having tasks to do. Alvi also has a dark side to him which he tries to suppress. He recently discovered that he has bloodlust and is very ashamed of it.There have been very few times where Alvi has had nothing to do or told he was useless. Those were also the few times that Alvi has been severely depressed and almost suicidal. However, past all that is a dedicated individual who is a valuable friend and worker.

Backstory:

In 25 AV, Alvinorinthian Norvaticus Sephecur was born in a caravan by Mourene Sephecur and Sycomyanthian "Sy" Balgarius Sephecur. In 5 AV, the couple started this caravan, which travelled through cities more central to the mainland before restocking at the port city of Halsbrook. The caravan was quite successful, until the year 13 AV, when the civil war broke out. Their regular trade routes became battlefields. This forced them to travel along an increasingly smaller route. Soon, their moderately successful caravan turned into a failure, throwing the Sephecurs into bankruptcy. However, Sy still had hope for his business. When Alvi was born, Sy had hopes of raising him to succeed the caravan. However, those dreams would only remain dreams.

In 29 AV, when Alvi was four years old, the Sephecurs were on their trade route after stocking up on supplies when their whole caravan was raided. The raiders stole the entire caravan and supplies, leaving Mourene and Sy behind. However, the raiders didn't know that little Alvi was asleep in the back of the carriage. They were halfway to their camp before the four-year-old woke up crying for his parents. When the raiders returned to their camp, their commander was furious. Stealing supplies was one thing, but kidnapping a child was another. Unfortunately, there was no way the raiders were able to find Alvi's parents again. Upon asking the scared, weeping child where his parents would be, the only place he could even say was Halston, the port city. Two of the raiders were instructed to go to Halsbrook in disguise and bring Alvi to the orphanage there. However, the two raiders had a different plan.

When Alvi and the two raiders arrived at Halston, they immediately went to the black market in attempts to sell the child for a hefty profit. Fortunately for young Alvi, a middle-aged man by the name of Horace Campbell was there in search of weapon parts. He never used to dwell in places like the black market, but the civil war made resources scarce. The black market was the only place to get some of the parts he wanted. When he saw that a child who couldn't be older than four was for sale, he decided to spend all the money he had to rescue him.

Horace was a runic engineer. For the longest time, he worked in a shop he owned. However, due to the civil war, he was forced to join with other engineers and make weapons for the war. Being able to make runic armaments became an asset for the people he was making them for, but it was not what Horace enjoyed. Horace decided to take in young Alvi and keep him safe until his parents came back to Halston. When Alvi was brought to Horace's home and workshop for the first time, he was in awe by the number of machines Horace had. When Horace explained that he made all of them, Alvi immediately wanted to know how to make them. Horace was reluctant to teach such a young child, but seeing Alvi's enthusiasm made his heart melt. Horace didn't have any child to pass his knowledge down, and he did not know how much time he had left. So, he decided to teach Alvi mathematics and the very basics of runic engineering until his parents came for him.

Of course, Alvi's parents never did come back to Halston. That was evident after a year. At this time, the five-year-old Alvi was beginning to learn about simple machines, what runes are, and what runes can do at their purest. Even after a year, Alvi was still confused by this but continued to be fascinated. Horace, who adored Alvi's fascination to no ends, encouraged Alvi to stay curious and intrigued. This sentiment would ring throughout Alvi's entire life. Three years later, the civil war ended. Horace was able to move back into his shop and begin to teach Alvi how to read blueprints and make some runic machines finally. However, much to Horace's surprise, Alvi managed to create some very simple contraptions all on his lonesome!

Soon, Alvi became a known face around Halston. As Horace got older, he began to start losing his movement. Alvi had to start running all the errands. Most people seemed to enjoy Alvi's cheeriness, though there was the occasional person who found him to be annoying and fake. Alvi even began to make some friends, though they were not what most would expect. Alvi, not knowing any better, got caught up in a group of children who stole from market stands, pickpocketed, and even broke into peoples houses. Alvi was told that they only did that because they needed to and he believed them. He also joined in, thinking he was helping his friends. However, a local guard caught them and sent all of them to prison except for Alvi, only because he was a familiar face and that Alvi had no idea what he was doing was even wrong. Horace then realised that because he was occupied with keeping Alvi cheerful and teaching him how to engineer, he completely forgot to teach Alvi right from wrong, and what was and was not legal. Though Horace tried to do that, it didn't seem to get through to him. Eventually, Horace figured that Alvi's good heart would lead him to the right place.

Time went on, and the kinds of machines that Alvi could make began to grow. Alvi got better at making more complicated, and more efficient constructions. Though Alvi still had much to learn, including how to make runic devices as well as other aspects of runic theory, Alvi wanted to begin making stuff up all on his own. By the age of ten, word was out that a dusk gate had opened. Horace was called back into making weapons to prepare for what was thought to be another Xitian invasion, but at this point, Horace was bound to a wheelchair. Alvi was instead required to take Horace's place. Of course, Though Alvi and Horace continued their lessons, Alvi was now the one making their source of income, and at age ten nonetheless. Alvi found enjoyment in having a job. He loved following the blueprints and assembling the weapons, but he had no idea what they were. At first, Horace didn't have the heart to tell Alvi that he was contributing to what could be another war. Then, it dawned on him that Alvi had no way to protect himself. Horace got his friend from the guard, who happened to be the same guard member who arrested him, to teach Alvi the basics of marksmanship. He decided that Alvi would spend half his free time after work working on marksmanship, and the other half on

For two years, Alvi's schedule consisted of work, marksmanship, and lessons on engineering. Within that time, Alvi managed to make his very first runic device: It was simplistic and was primarily a toy. Alvi struggled greatly with marksmanship. It was never something he liked very much, but he realised that he would be using it in exceptional cases. When word that Xitians finally arrived through the portal, Alvi's output increased, while his pay decreased. Of course, this did not matter to Alvi, as he was only in it for the work itself. However, the guard member who was teaching Alvi was drafted into the army. Horace would have been as well, had it not been for his physical impairment. Alvi decided to dedicate time every day to marksman practice still. However, due to overwork, Alvi fainted on the job three times before being sent home on unpaid leave.

Alvi never went back to work for the army. Instead, he ran Horace's shop while continuing to learn more and more. In the next five years, Alvi began to catch up to Horace's level of skill, though not to Horace's dismay. He was happy to pass on his legacy. Alvi, now seventeen, felt he has found his purpose and was content with life. Even the Xitian news about Dragons didn't sway him, though he did practice more with his crossbow when Horace told him it was worth it for both of their protection. Three years later, the Dragons made their way to the middle realm. Horace began to be increasingly worried for Alvi's safety since Alvi was of the opinion that he could befriend the dragons. It took time, but Alvi was convinced to get on a boat and leave not only Holston but the mainland. Within the next year, after having to sell plenty of things to afford a ticket, Alvi got on a boat and left for refuge, but not before a long goodbye, and a gift from Horace; Horace's favourite pair of goggles. They were a pair of goggles Horace made long before Alvi came into his life. There was nothing special about them, but they were a decent pair of goggles. Alvi was in love with the gift, to the point of never taking them off.

The boat travelled for one and a half years since Alvi lived far south in the mainland. On board, Alvi made friends with a young woman by the name of Amelia. She was a talented flautist and poet. This was Alvi's first experience with the arts, and it amazed him to his core. Alvi and Amelia fell in love, but only for a short time. Amelia had become diseased with scurvy and died many months before the boat would reach the forbidden lands. Though Alvi was devastated, he focused on the bright side and was glad he got to meet her. Though Alvi would probably never become an artist, he would now have a lasting appreciation for it.

Another friend he made was Asher, the naval engineer on the boat who was picked up from another port city and was hired to maintain the ship. Though Asher was not a runic engineer, their shared interest in engineering allowed them to get along well. Alvi showed Asher what could be done with the little runic wire he had with him, and Asher showed him all the things that had to go into maintaining the boats. Another thing that Asher showed Alvi were ballistae. Alvi found enjoyment in learning about larger battlements. Asher even taught Alvi how to use them. Alvi spent all his free time drawing up blueprints for things he wanted to make when he arrived on land.

When Alvi arrived at the forbidden lands, he immediately tried to open up a shop. However, this seemed to be a fruitless effort. Alvi had no supplies, and nobody was buying from him. The only way Alvi was making money was by killing dusk creatures. Alvi didn't plan on going that direction, but when a hoard of undead attacked the settlement he was apart of, Alvi was one of the people to step up and defend the camp. Alvi at first didn't want to do it, but it turned out that his marksman training made him quite competent with his crossbow. For the next two years, Alvi made his share by fending off dusk creatures and even hunting. However, after those two years and a bit, Alvi found that he was enjoying it a bit too much. Every time he had to defend the settlement, Alvi started to get a rush. He even found himself getting excited by the idea of it now. Alvi discovered an unknown bloodlust that probably sprung from his optimism. Realising what he believed was his purpose is again, he decided to leave the settlement and head towards the larger town of Nightveil in hopes to begin engineering again, and in hopes of suppressing his newfound love for the hunt.

Capabilities:

[b]Engineering:[Runic] - Advanced[/b]

[b]Combat:[Crossbow, Bow & Arrow, Ballistae] - Competent[/b]

[b]Wilderness:[Hunting] - Novice[/b]

Items:

A crossbow made by Alvi

Goggles made by Horace

No additional comments

[Accepted] Application - absolutemonarch

Wed, 16 May 2018 05:44:40 +0000

[Approved] Application - VirtigoVII

Wed, 16 May 2018 02:33:11 +0000

In Game Name (IGN): VirtigoVII
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)
I was sick of the last server I was on (I won't name it for obvious reasons) being non-inclusive and simply not having enough people in one place. The map was too big. My stubborn self likes to stay on one server, but I'd had enough. I want to seriously roleplay. I decided to spend about an hour browsing server listing sites, videos, and eventually I found Mesalia on The Roleplay Periodical.
About You:
I'm finally done with a busy year and now I can get back to my hobbies. I enjoy reading, writing, drawing, roleplaying, gaming, and playing my mandolin, guitar, piano, and flute. I'm also collecting PS2 games, if that's interesting to anybody at all. I lift?

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Vadaxin'zaar
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: Vadaxin'zaar stands at a fearsome five feet tall. With a generous smear of darkness and fatigue under her almond eyes of sage and celadon, she's a desolate look to her. Her rosy cherub lips seldom part, nor move at all; it's as if she doesn't breathe. Vada's skin is porcelain, fettered by nothing other than warm papaya and honey freckles that gather around her dainty nose's bridge. FRaming her face before falling into long, luscious waves is her hair of saffron. It spills like merlot down her back and off of her shoulders if not restrained by intricate braids. Her delicate burnt ochre brows are the most expressive part of her, rising and falling with or without words to accompany the gestures.
Personality: Despite her colorful features, Vada is bereft and forlorn. She's strong, but one can't help but sometimes think she looks a little gaunt, a little gray. Albeit mournful, Vaddie can make for great conversation!... among others' talk. She's a definite spectacle, and could have easily been subject to ridicule and chastisement. Though secretive with even the most minor of things, she cannot speak a breath of a lie. With all things considered, there's still something haunting about the girl and her voice, soft as petals and as doleful as wilted ones.
Backstory: (I'd like to keep this condensed, if that's alright.) Vadaxin'zaar was content with her state of life; She lived with a beautiful, artistic mother, a hardy, intuitive father, and a glorious house (made and kept that way by her parents). They had a simple, linear way of living. Her mother was literate, and took up teaching her to write and read. However, working as a tailor (a good one, at that), Vada's mother found herself needing more time to tend to her job. With extra money earned, her parents invited a tutor to stay with them, as their house was relatively spacious and always had vacancy. Their house, situated on the side of a trading route, had a pleasant flow of potential customers and barterers. The downside to this was the lack of social expertise on Vada's part.
Alexander de Percy was a name Vadaxin'zaar would never forget, and he made sure of it. Shortly after hiring Sir Alexander, Vada's father passed away when she was ten. Though it was a gloomy day and she was young, she still had faith in his spirit manifesting itself in the night sky, and found a deep, personal comfort in this. Without her father's craft in armor and weaponry (at least she wagered, as she could only recall watching him work with bright lights and hot metals), Vada's mother was reliant on Alexander's income, thus shifting the balance of power in the household beneath their very noses.
Alexander became stricter, and acted in a way that matched his appearance. The most sun he'd get was from his walks from the front door to the middle of their field behind the house, behind a mill. His eyes were dark, devoid of emotion and honesty. His hair, though full, was white, making him look older than he was. Vada couldn't help but cringe whenever he wrung his bony, cold fingers.
His infatuation with her shifted from hope- she was and is a delightfully bright girl- to something more perverse. Over the course of five years, Alexander de Percy channeled his frustrations with things as little as ledgers to things as troublesome as foreign affairs on Vada. At first, it was common reprimand: a slap on the wrist, a stern talking-to. This Vada could take, however stupid she thought the things she was punished for were. Her mother began to travel into town to sell smaller trinkets and decor once she turned fourteen. Although successful in her trade, this did no good for Vadaxin'zaar, left alone with her tutor.
Small stutters, mumbles, and natural screw-ups soon were soon disciplined out of the question with books, rulers, and eventually a letter-opener. Vadaxin'zaar took to wearing more modest of attire: long sleeves, turtlenecks, ankle-length dresses, and gloves to hide the cuts and bruises she bore.
Worse became worst. With Vadaxin'zaar's mother traveling so much, she'd fallen ill to a common ailment and returned with it. Quarantining herself, her mother showed her face well-nigh nevermore. Many nights followed that Vada thought of running away. To where she did not know, as she'd never gone past the sparse copse surrounding their land.
Vadaxin'zaar was forced to improvise when Alexander went into a drunken stupor with a blade in hand. Clad in naught but her nightgown, she swiped a candle and burst out of the front door, quickly making her away around the house and down the path made by Alexander's periodic trips out. His confusion left him breaking things rather than bones inside the house, much to her relief. She finally came to a cellar door behind their now-aged mill. Her inquisition was roaring over the sound of her breathing and the glass breaking a few hundred feet away. One hand held the candle away from her face as the other worked at breaking the rusted lock on the door before her. It finally gave, and the true gates of Hell were thrown open. Hearing a call from Alexander suggesting he was going to come look for her, she panicked and forced herself down the abysmal tunnel before shutting the doors once more.
Defenseless, Vada was cautious with her steps on the musty, cold ground. Her effort was comprised half of patting the wall and half of squinting through candlelight, but was fruitful in finding doors. They were makeshift, old and free of any locking mechanism. Vada decides to push it open. Slipping inside, she'd trip over something clunky, falling against the wall and dropping her candle. Vada was oddly complacent with the silence of it all. She knew where she was. She could get out if she really needed to. She was safe, hidden.
Her solace was cut short after a bundle of papers to her left began to turn red, orange, and suddenly a hot yellow. Eyes widened, she'd clamber to open the door, struggling to get a grip on herself as she frantically studied her surroundings. The girl's fingers unwrap from the edge of the stiff door, now scraped and splintered. All around her were drawings- some ablaze, some dimly illuminated- of her. Her young, her older, her in less clothing than she'd ever wish for, her tied and cut... She was depicted in nearly all ideas imaginable, variations sometimes so subtle she swore she was seeing double. A sob escapes her and she tugs at the jammed door. Her fists pummel the exit now as she breaks down, losing sight of the danger slowly engulfing her. Wiping at her eyes, she coughs and kicks a wooden apparatus away from the ravenous flames. It was a wheel with a particularly large hub, a ring. It was a sinister device to devoid one of sleep, but the girl could only figure it to be junk. With one last burst of energy, the girl takes advantage of the moment and gets the door open. By memory, she makes her way to the cellar doors a final time to escape. Popping back into the field, her mother takes her by surprise. Vada tries to scream, but is silenced by a well-meaning hand.
Her mother coughs into the inside of her elbow, bringing her hand away and forming a point to bring to her lips. Mere yards away, Alexander was motionless with a shard of glass in his neck.
The current state could be described as a quiet chaos. Vada paced in the parlor, arms trembling in unison with her lips as her mother packed a bag for her. With a hug and a push out the door, Vada was on her own. All there was to follow was the stars or the road, so she meagerly took her leave. She'd essentially become devoid of all thoughts and processes other than walking and scrambling for a pouch of pay for a carriage to "Anywhere, please.'
Nightveil awaited her.

Capabilities:
Music | Instrument Skills & Singing | Competent - Vada had grown up singing, dancing, and primarily playing a violin with her mother and father's guidance. She has no desire, however, to monetize this or even make it public. It's easier for her to express her emotions through the violin... or any other instrument she could get her hands on, really. However, anything that was not stringed would have a steeper learning curve.
Fine Arts | Reading, Writing, & Drawing | Competent/Advanced - Vada knows little to nothing of color theory, but she's a naturally artistic, curious girl who was blessed by the mediums her mother was able to provide. She has no desire to monetize this, but will gladly make things for people as favors. She is only well-practiced in reading and writing, and has an extensive vocabulary.
Handicrafts | Other | Competent - Vada enjoys making herself headdresses and little jewelry pieces. As pretty as they may be, they are strictly for herself and she struggles to understand what others would want.
Tradeskills | Cuisine | Apprentice - Vada is not an extravagant cook, but she's got a sensitive palate and a promising future if she finds it necessary to pursue this. It's unlikely.
Tradeskills | Tailoring | Apprentice - Vada's mother did not have a lot of time to spare to teach Vada, but she's got the basics down, and her creativity helps widen the possibilities. It's unlikely Vada will get any better without a personal teacher.
Knowledge | Science | Competent - Vada had to force herself to near-perfection (to her level of education) to please Alexander and avoid his fury. At least something useful came out of that. The girl has a special interest in botany for cosmetic uses.

Items:
-A journal bound in deep green leather with an attached bookmark of garnet cloth.
-Sticks of charcoal.
-A canteen of water.
-A pair of glass bottles filled with fragrant creams with the consistency of lotion. They smell of bergamot, sandalwood, and citrus.
-A violin and horse-hair bow.

Additional Comments:
This is incredibly ironic, but I think this song fits Vada, title aside.
The Cellar

Pardon me if any of this is a little shifty, I've had finals this week and my brain is sort of fried. I'm really hoping this formats right. I also hope I'm putting this in the right spot. I'm notorious for being garbage with forums. Thanks for reading all of this!

[Approved] Jamie

Sun, 03 Dec 2017 18:22:01 +0000

Name: Jamie Samantha Elliot
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Race: Xitian
Religion: Confused / On the Fence
Eyes: Red
Hair: Brown / Curly
Height: 5’7 / 170cm
Weight: 140lbs / 63kgs
Marks:
Harpy Eagle Emblem branded on chest, left side, below collarbone.
Lineart tattoo covering majority of right thigh depicts a stylized tiger battling a serpent.

Personality:
Jamie is a rather rash and spontaneous person. She thinks of herself first, and while capable of planning and patience she vastly prefers to do things as they occur to her. She is known to harbor a level of resentment towards the lucin race, but it hasn’t reached a level of all out hatred. More along the line of casual and subtle racism. She can often prove very energetic and friendly, but doesn’t tend to get very deep with people. She has a free spirit and is very independently motivated, but enjoys having others around for entertainment and utility.

Description:
She stands at about an average height and is notably slender, she’s athletic and her muscles are well toned, but she’s still rather skinny. She mostly deals with her own body weight rather than heavy loads. She has a very youthful appearance about her, and due to her body type can often be mistaken for someone a decade younger. Her figure is petite to an extent and she’s the type that could squeeze through a child sized hole if she needed to, but she carries herself with the confidence of a heavyweight champion. Her hair is curly and kept medium length so she doesn’t burn it, and her skin is slightly tanned. She has a harpy eagle branded onto her chest just below the left collarbone, and a stylized black-and-white tattoo covering the majority of her right thigh depicting a tiger engaged in fierce battle with a serpent.

Languages:
Common - Fluent
She understands the language well.
Xitian - Conversational
She grew up speaking xitian, but hasn’t had the chance to really engage in the language since she was young.
Lucin - Translatable
She understands enough to translate the language given time. She can speed the process using her translation book on the language.
KoBan - Barely Viable
She knows the basic grammar and a couple of simple phrases, but would need a new book in order to translate it fully.

Powers:
Fire - Normal Use
This is her naturally attuned element, she’s been using it from a young age and it is her one above average skill. However, she lacks a good teacher and as such struggles to advance past the normal level.
Earth - Easy Use
She has trained with this element rigorously, however it does not come totally natural to her at all and is better used as a utility, not reliable in combat.
Nether - Barely Usable
She has no training whatsoever with this element, so far her attempts to use it all end in spectacular failure - typically with collateral damage.

Skills:
Acrobatics - Competent
She is athletically spry and skilled at maneuvering on the fly, naturally good at climbing, clearing obstacles, and running. She can be very light footed and move silently as needed. She has a basic ability to use this in performance for flips, tight ropes, and other basic stunts. She learned most of what she knows as a ranger, but honed the skill to an art in the circus.
Survivalism - Competent
She knows the basics of living off of the land and surviving harsh mountain and jungle terrain, she isn’t particularly skilled and hardly a woodsman, but she can keep herself alive in a wilderness situation for an extended but not indefinite period of time.
Hand to Hand - Apprentice
She isn’t great with striking blows or special techniques, but she’s gained a basic capacity to dodge, evade, redirect, and grapple with opponents. She roughly integrates this with her fire use as a last resort, but can only manage novice fire use while engaging in hand to hand due to the concentration it requires.
Cartography - Apprentice
She can map out terrain or structural features usably, but don’t expect anything fancy.
Linguistics - Apprentice
She’s studied a few languages and older root words to gain an ability to decipher and translate languages to a limited extent. When she runs into roadblocks on a translation, she can usually solve them with the right book or help. This helps her learn new languages faster.

Equipment:
Leather Rucksack
Steel Kukri
Waterskin
Spyglass
Cartography Equipment
Language Book: Old Mesalian
Language Book: Lucin
Rope: 20 Meters
Silver Earings x2
Silver Tiara
Silver Anklets x6
Tiger Tooth Necklace

Clothes:
Rain Cloak - Loose / Green Patterned Foilage
Silk Circus Garb - Loose / Red w/ Silver Beads
Leather Jacket - Loose Rugged / Brown
Burlap Trousers - Relaxed Fit / Khaki
Cotton Buttoned Shirt - Fitted / White x2
Leather Running Boots - Fitted / Brown
Boot Socks / Grey x3 Pairs
Undergarments / Bottom - Fitted / Black x4
Undergarments / Top - Fitted / Black x4
Leather Gear Belt / Brown

Backstory:
Jamie Samantha Elliot was born in a xitian mountain camp in the year twenty-three after the veld, to an old trouble making veteran of a father and a mother who spent most of her years working in the iron mine. Her parents were both thoroughly noble blooded, and traced their lineage to skilled leaders of the conquest of the middle realm. Her father spent his early years fighting to hold the lines at the Dusk Gate in the final days of the war, her mother spent her childhood moving stone and iron for the war effort. None of that mattered two decades after the great defeat. None of it.

Jamie’s mother moved on, and let love into her heart. No one expected her to finally bear a child at almost forty seasons of age, but with this blessing she was able to find peace. Jamie’s father however had never known peace. He was born in war, he was raised in war, and he was scared by war. Not even a daughter to raise could stop him from his constant plotting and wilful contribution to the misunderstandings of the civil wars.

He kept on fighting - encouraged by the recent spark of the dusk gate that he took as an omen of the return of xitian supremacy - until the day came in the year twenty-nine after the veld that a lucin by the name of Captain Henry Cliffon finally tracked him home, and put an end to him and every other military aged male in the village. A final solution that came far too late for the jungle city of Kal-Moro, which was decimated by their neighbors in the nearby mountain kingdom of Havenhold due to lethal misunderstandings - the work of Jamie’s father and his associates. She was six seasons old.

Jamie’s mother was bitter.. But she knew the day would come when her husband’s stubbornness would be the end of him, and she thanked gods of all religions that her daughter was spared from the collateral. But now the hidden village was weak, smaller, and very alone. Life was hard for a time, until the day came that the civil wars ended and an uneasy peace settled on the entire region. In the year thirty-three after the veld Jamie’s mother took her ten year old daughter to the kingdom of Havenhold to seek refuge and a new life. The people were apprehensive, but she brought many gifts of iron and silver from her mining years to persuade them.

Thus Jamie grew up in the great stone city, the realm of heroes and conquerors where stories of adventure and battle are sung in every corner. She was inspired and grew ambitious and unruly, often causing trouble for her aging mother, who dreamed of a place where they could both along, and be safe. Then the time came that the dusk gate opened. The city guard was called up and put on alert for that entire year, and the xitians living there were kept closely monitored. Young Jamie thought this was an adventure she was destined for, but her mother had grown too frail to make such a journey.

A twelve year old could never cross a continent on her own, and neither could an elder with decades of mining brittling her back. So Jamie made a promise to her mother, that if they couldn’t go to the place that they belonged.. She would make this place their home, she would make the people of the city accept them, and give her mother the comfortable and easy life she deserved. Jamie worked hard even in her youth, but given the circumstances of the city she could never stay out of trouble or hold an apprenticeship. She was a misfit.

So she ended up where all the other wayward and misguided young people go to make their mark and earn their keep. The city guard. When she was fourteen she joined up with the garrison chapter of the guard as a recruit, cleaning equipment and running errands between training and exercise. Her mother taught her lessons on the elements every day when she came home, but her mother was best at moving earth. Jamie took after her father and attuned towards fire, an element her mother was barely competent with.

Nonetheless, Jamie trained hard in the guard, she trained diligently with her mother, and by the time she was in her sixteenth season and old enough to leave the garrison chapter behind to test for a fighting chapter she was able to pass the survival test required to join the rangers and receive their brand, permanently burnt onto her chest. The Havenhold Guard Rangers were a skilled bunch of rowdy misfits who prefered expedition and adventure to walking a patrol or manning the wall. Their responsibility was to scout the mountains for threats and once a season raid the ruins of Kal-Moro to suppress packs of vengeance seeking resistance fighters.

They taught Jamie how to survive in the mountains and jungle, they taught her how to traverse cliffs and climb trees. She learned how to set small animal snares to sustain herself far from home, pitch a tent, create a smokeless cooking fire, draw a basic map, and survey an area or subject without detection. She returned home whenever she could to continue her lessons with her mother, but met with frequent roadblocks in the advancement of her power and could never exceed basic competency with her attuned element.

Jamie served with with the rangers for six years, becoming a rather skilled scout and a somewhat respected guardsman. She had explored many of the old ruins of Kal-Moro and profited from her finds, and exploring these lost places became her favorite part of being a ranger. She searched the jungle and mountains for ancient sites, learning what she could and taking what she could carry, but without the knowledge to understand the sites nothing she found was ever considered particularly valuable.

Shortly after Jamie’s twenty second birthday her mother’s health began to deteriorate. She took leave to stay with her in the end, and her mother passed peacefully of natural causes at the age of sixty one seasons. Jamie grieved, and spent her savings to bury her in a place of honor in the city. Then she left.

With her mother gone, Jamie no longer felt tied to Havenhold. The place no longer seemed like a grand adventure without the end purpose being to provide for her last family and keep her safe. So she searched for a chance to make a new life travelling and learning, to find her true adventure. She spent what little she had left on old dusty tomes and sought out scholars to learn the languages of the world, learning the fundamentals, root words, and grammar necessary to build on her understanding and the history still known to the world while hoping to find a way to profit off of adventures to come, and then she found her chance one day in conversation at a tavern when she met a man from a passing circus. He had traveled many lands and learned to speak many languages, and promised that within the circus were all manner of skilled people from all manner of places.

Jamie joined up as an acrobat and immediately started taking lessons in language from the speaker, history from the elders of each town they passed through, and tried her best to learn to talk with the horse riding KoBan performers though only ever learning some basic grammar and phrases from these strange people the circus had picked up in far off travels. All of this between her acrobatic practice days and firedancing shows. She tried many times to get a lesson from the fireworks master, but he absolutely refused to educate her in explosives beyond the basic principles of how to avoid setting off the ones in storage.

Eventually the time came when she felt that she had learned enough from the circus. It was time to go out again and adventure, explore even more of the world.. And find the lost treasures and profits that she could. She joined up with a merchant vessel and worked her way across numerous ports of the forbidden lands, before coming across an ancient city rumored to be cursed. Her excitement could barely be contained amidst such adventure-sounding rumors, so she gathered her things and left the ship at Nightveil. Not knowing how the town would receive a xitian - let alone someone seeking to profiteer from their history - She stashed her ranger equipment up a tree and headed into town as merely a performer.

Timeline:
Born - Age 0 / 23AV
Father killed / Gate Spark - Age 6 / 29AV
Civil War End / Settled in Havenhold - Age 10 / 33AV
Dusk Gate Opened / Promise Made - Age 12 / 35AV
Joined Guard - Age 14 / 37AV
Joined Rangers - Age 16 / 39AV
Mother Died / Left Rangers / Joined Circus - Age 22 / 45AV
Left Mainlands / Found Nightveil - Age 26 / 49AV