MossyMorel
Merchant
Username: Caedd.
Age: 18
Gender: Male.
Country: United Kingdom.
Do you agree to read our Survival Guide before logging onto the server?
Yes.
Do you agree to consult both our Tome of Citizenship and Everything you need to know page before asking any questions in the game?
Yes.
Please provide a lengthy in-character introduction.
[My character really isn’t the type of person to spout information about themselves. If you want to know more you can find my character’s profile when I post it. It should explain pretty much everything.]
Below are the events that caused Ced to wake up in the grove of Shalherana.
You walk into a tavern, a large front room with smoke clinging to the ceiling, a bard in the corner playing over the bubble of voices coming from the men and women sat at their tables drinking rich mead and eating simple food.
The smells are thick and heavy, but not unpleasant. Roast boar and duck are on a spit over a fire in one corner, and the scents make your mouth water. Mulled wine is being passed around.
Walking to the bar, a square section in the middle of the room, you sit on one of the stools and order a drink from the gruff serving man.
Nearby, a young man sits, toying with his pint. He wears scruffy brown leather clothes, his face is obscured by a moss green hood, but you see smoke rising from a pipe held loosely in his mouth, each breath bringing forth a fiery glow. He notices you staring and grins.
“You want the rest of this?” He says, gesturing to the beer in his hands.
“I’ve just ordered one myself, thanks,” Is your reply.
“Good. I think they got this one from a bad keg. What’s your name? And why do I look so interesting to you?”
“I’m [insert name here], yours? You seem like quite an adventurer in that get up is all.”
The man laughs. “I’m Ced, and no, I’m not an adventurer. I spend most of my time in places where this ‘get up’ saves my life. So excuse me if my blatant disregard for fashion offends you.” He finishes his pipe, empties it out and stores it in an inside pocket of his jacket. You notice the flash of a blade as he does so.
“Any reason for the weapon?”
He glances at you directly for the first time, shrugs and says, “Like I said, I live in a place where this would save my life.”
“And where is this terrifically dangerous place?”
He gestures behind him, towards the door. “Outside.”
It appears that this is the most you’re going to get out of him. But you don’t give up. You buy him another drink (from a different barrel), and pry him slowly for more information. He never tells you where he resides or where he spends most of his time, but you learn that he used to live in a city called Aurefold, yet was exiled as a young boy. Meeting several people, he became great friends with them over the six years that have passed between now and then. When asked for their names, he only smiles mysteriously, and lists off a set of cryptic descriptors; “The Sister, the Snake, the Witch, the Wolf, the Baron, the Bear.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moon is fully up, the tavern is quieting and the counter is littered with empty glass mugs. You drowsily pat the man on the shoulder.
“You’ve given me a terrifically interesting night, young Ced, and for that, I thank thee.”
“Aha, not at all, my dear friend -hic!- anytime, anytime...” The man looks exhausted and much older than his years. “I believe I will stay here for tonight. I’m far too tired and... intoxicated, to handle my usual sleeping arrangements. Barman!”
As he's getting up to pay for his room, the door to the tavern opens, bringing in a chill winter night’s wind.
A silhouette of a man the size of an ogre fills the door frame. He wears chain armor belted at the waist, plate leather breeches and a huge grey cloak with black fur adorning his broad shoulders.
He stoops forwards into the light, revealing a grim scarred face, and looks with heavy black eyes towards Ced.
“You goin’ somewhere?” His voice a guttural rumble, his mouth twisted into a snarl.
Ced turns slowly towards him, “Ah. Hello again, Cairn.”
They face each other across the floor of the tavern. Ced’s fingers twitch.
“Don’t be trying any tricksy business this time, boy. My men surround this place. Why don’t we try this without bloodshed?”
Ced had instantly sobered up. “You know I won’t do that, old friend. You know I can’t.”
“You slaughtered half of my squad!” Roars Cairn. He draws a large broadsword from a scabbard on his back. It makes a metallic rasp as it comes out. “You come quietly, or I take the pleasure of splitting you in two!”
There's a tense silence in the room. Both men are poised, ready to react. Looking towards Ced, you notice his eyes going out of focus, as if looking at something just past the large man’s grizzly head. Cairn notices too.
“What’re you up to boy? My patience is running thin!” He scowls, the wrinkles in his face creasing the shining scar tissue. Fire in his eyes, he takes a step towards Ced, readying his broadsword, and keels over as a mug flies into the back of his head. The dull thud resounds throughout the room, and Cairn topples.
Ced leaps forwards, the telekinetic arcân receding into his bloodstream. He pulls out a thin knife from within his jacket, and as he quickly steps past Cairn, he bends down and cuts his purse. Throwing it at the barman, he shouts, “Apologies for the trouble!” And slips through the door.
Cairn is up quickly and, roaring like a wild beast, he lumbers after Ced into the night. Sounds of him crashing through the woods surrounding the tavern slowly die away.
The people at their tables recover remarkably quickly from the events. Almost instantly, the inane chatter is back, the somewhat shaken lute player strikes up again, and the mood is back to normal. You pick up the discarded mug off the floor, and hand it to the barman.
Looking at each other, there is an unspoken agreement to never talk about what happened this evening again.
IRL bio:
I live in the UK, I like books and nature. I hate cities and crowded situations. I want to become a writer when I grow up, though I am worried I’m just not good enough. The story above isn’t a good example of my writing as it was rushed and I tried to fit as much stuff into it as I could while keeping it short. I love the fantasy and medieval genre, I think my life pretty much revolves around it. I love folklore and legends and stories of trolls and witches and knights in armor. It’s the same with movies, though if I’m in the mood for it I could happily watch a horror (as long as it isn’t Saw...).
I’m quiet I think, I try not to be offensive or obnoxious, but sometime I can get carried away and say something I regret, if I believe someone is being cruel or narrow-minded.
I’m a bit of an eco-nut. I recycle and go to camp-outs to save woods. I campaign for the National Trust, and if my writing career doesn’t work out I’d love to work for them. When I have my own house, the dream is to live in the Lake District, growing my own food and getting energy from solar panels and maybe a water mill.
Do you have any examples of your work and creativity, either in
minecraft or outside? You can attach them to this post using the "upload a file" button or link to the image or video.
Hmm is it worth me building the place where the story above takes place? Will it improve my chance of getting in if you see how I build?
Is there anything else you wish to share with us?
I have dyspraxia, which basically means I have a hard time submitting thoughts to paper (typical really, when you want to be a writer). Basically if I come across as blunt, or weird on the forums, I really don’t intend to be.
Are you aware that the use of black magic (xray,xray texture packs and ore locator mods) is not allowed on our server, and a banishable offense?
Like hacks and cheats? I assumed so, yeah.
How did you find out about our server?
I can’t quite remember; might’ve been on another forum or a youtube video or something.
Have you voted for us?
I’ve only just arrived on the forums and I haven’t been on your server yet. How am I to know whether I think you deserve a vote?
Age: 18
Gender: Male.
Country: United Kingdom.
Do you agree to read our Survival Guide before logging onto the server?
Yes.
Do you agree to consult both our Tome of Citizenship and Everything you need to know page before asking any questions in the game?
Yes.
Please provide a lengthy in-character introduction.
[My character really isn’t the type of person to spout information about themselves. If you want to know more you can find my character’s profile when I post it. It should explain pretty much everything.]
Below are the events that caused Ced to wake up in the grove of Shalherana.
You walk into a tavern, a large front room with smoke clinging to the ceiling, a bard in the corner playing over the bubble of voices coming from the men and women sat at their tables drinking rich mead and eating simple food.
The smells are thick and heavy, but not unpleasant. Roast boar and duck are on a spit over a fire in one corner, and the scents make your mouth water. Mulled wine is being passed around.
Walking to the bar, a square section in the middle of the room, you sit on one of the stools and order a drink from the gruff serving man.
Nearby, a young man sits, toying with his pint. He wears scruffy brown leather clothes, his face is obscured by a moss green hood, but you see smoke rising from a pipe held loosely in his mouth, each breath bringing forth a fiery glow. He notices you staring and grins.
“You want the rest of this?” He says, gesturing to the beer in his hands.
“I’ve just ordered one myself, thanks,” Is your reply.
“Good. I think they got this one from a bad keg. What’s your name? And why do I look so interesting to you?”
“I’m [insert name here], yours? You seem like quite an adventurer in that get up is all.”
The man laughs. “I’m Ced, and no, I’m not an adventurer. I spend most of my time in places where this ‘get up’ saves my life. So excuse me if my blatant disregard for fashion offends you.” He finishes his pipe, empties it out and stores it in an inside pocket of his jacket. You notice the flash of a blade as he does so.
“Any reason for the weapon?”
He glances at you directly for the first time, shrugs and says, “Like I said, I live in a place where this would save my life.”
“And where is this terrifically dangerous place?”
He gestures behind him, towards the door. “Outside.”
It appears that this is the most you’re going to get out of him. But you don’t give up. You buy him another drink (from a different barrel), and pry him slowly for more information. He never tells you where he resides or where he spends most of his time, but you learn that he used to live in a city called Aurefold, yet was exiled as a young boy. Meeting several people, he became great friends with them over the six years that have passed between now and then. When asked for their names, he only smiles mysteriously, and lists off a set of cryptic descriptors; “The Sister, the Snake, the Witch, the Wolf, the Baron, the Bear.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moon is fully up, the tavern is quieting and the counter is littered with empty glass mugs. You drowsily pat the man on the shoulder.
“You’ve given me a terrifically interesting night, young Ced, and for that, I thank thee.”
“Aha, not at all, my dear friend -hic!- anytime, anytime...” The man looks exhausted and much older than his years. “I believe I will stay here for tonight. I’m far too tired and... intoxicated, to handle my usual sleeping arrangements. Barman!”
As he's getting up to pay for his room, the door to the tavern opens, bringing in a chill winter night’s wind.
A silhouette of a man the size of an ogre fills the door frame. He wears chain armor belted at the waist, plate leather breeches and a huge grey cloak with black fur adorning his broad shoulders.
He stoops forwards into the light, revealing a grim scarred face, and looks with heavy black eyes towards Ced.
“You goin’ somewhere?” His voice a guttural rumble, his mouth twisted into a snarl.
Ced turns slowly towards him, “Ah. Hello again, Cairn.”
They face each other across the floor of the tavern. Ced’s fingers twitch.
“Don’t be trying any tricksy business this time, boy. My men surround this place. Why don’t we try this without bloodshed?”
Ced had instantly sobered up. “You know I won’t do that, old friend. You know I can’t.”
“You slaughtered half of my squad!” Roars Cairn. He draws a large broadsword from a scabbard on his back. It makes a metallic rasp as it comes out. “You come quietly, or I take the pleasure of splitting you in two!”
There's a tense silence in the room. Both men are poised, ready to react. Looking towards Ced, you notice his eyes going out of focus, as if looking at something just past the large man’s grizzly head. Cairn notices too.
“What’re you up to boy? My patience is running thin!” He scowls, the wrinkles in his face creasing the shining scar tissue. Fire in his eyes, he takes a step towards Ced, readying his broadsword, and keels over as a mug flies into the back of his head. The dull thud resounds throughout the room, and Cairn topples.
Ced leaps forwards, the telekinetic arcân receding into his bloodstream. He pulls out a thin knife from within his jacket, and as he quickly steps past Cairn, he bends down and cuts his purse. Throwing it at the barman, he shouts, “Apologies for the trouble!” And slips through the door.
Cairn is up quickly and, roaring like a wild beast, he lumbers after Ced into the night. Sounds of him crashing through the woods surrounding the tavern slowly die away.
The people at their tables recover remarkably quickly from the events. Almost instantly, the inane chatter is back, the somewhat shaken lute player strikes up again, and the mood is back to normal. You pick up the discarded mug off the floor, and hand it to the barman.
Looking at each other, there is an unspoken agreement to never talk about what happened this evening again.
IRL bio:
I live in the UK, I like books and nature. I hate cities and crowded situations. I want to become a writer when I grow up, though I am worried I’m just not good enough. The story above isn’t a good example of my writing as it was rushed and I tried to fit as much stuff into it as I could while keeping it short. I love the fantasy and medieval genre, I think my life pretty much revolves around it. I love folklore and legends and stories of trolls and witches and knights in armor. It’s the same with movies, though if I’m in the mood for it I could happily watch a horror (as long as it isn’t Saw...).
I’m quiet I think, I try not to be offensive or obnoxious, but sometime I can get carried away and say something I regret, if I believe someone is being cruel or narrow-minded.
I’m a bit of an eco-nut. I recycle and go to camp-outs to save woods. I campaign for the National Trust, and if my writing career doesn’t work out I’d love to work for them. When I have my own house, the dream is to live in the Lake District, growing my own food and getting energy from solar panels and maybe a water mill.
Do you have any examples of your work and creativity, either in
minecraft or outside? You can attach them to this post using the "upload a file" button or link to the image or video.
Hmm is it worth me building the place where the story above takes place? Will it improve my chance of getting in if you see how I build?
Is there anything else you wish to share with us?
I have dyspraxia, which basically means I have a hard time submitting thoughts to paper (typical really, when you want to be a writer). Basically if I come across as blunt, or weird on the forums, I really don’t intend to be.
Are you aware that the use of black magic (xray,xray texture packs and ore locator mods) is not allowed on our server, and a banishable offense?
Like hacks and cheats? I assumed so, yeah.
How did you find out about our server?
I can’t quite remember; might’ve been on another forum or a youtube video or something.
Have you voted for us?
I’ve only just arrived on the forums and I haven’t been on your server yet. How am I to know whether I think you deserve a vote?
