1. What is your Minecraft username?
JobbutBladestead
2. How old are you?
23
3. What country are you from?
United States.
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
I have.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming: The use of out-of-character information while in-character. (Ex: Blurting out lore info your character doesn't know, calling out a disguise because you can see a username.)
Powergaming: The overriding of other players' agency and the reality/narrative of the scenario. (Ex: "I slit your throat before you can even respond." or "I break from the guard's cuffs while he's holding me and I'm on the ground, and I start running away again!")
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No, and if I'm uncertain about the legitimacy of a mod or texture pack I should question the staff first.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko (SirNicholas14)
8. Tell us about yourself!
I'm a long-time roleplayer and writer currently looking for a fun fantasy minecraft roleplaying server. I'm a long-time D&D Dungeon Master, and have even written content that was published on third party sources for 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons. I'm hoping to find something fun here that will help me relive some of the glory days of this game.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I previously worked with and wrote for the since-deceased Asmalur roleplaying server.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I found this server through online listings. There really isn't a great deal of pickings for roleplaying servers.
--
Character Name:
Katthik Irongrin
Character Age:
131
Character Race:
Dwarf
Appearance:
Katthik stands about 4'4", with dull brown eyes and matching hair. His body is stout, with a plump belly and jolly curves masking sturdy muscle and hardy bones. He is a fair skinned dwarf, but not without a spattering of freckles and a pinkish surface across his nose and cheeks.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'm still working on a skin to fit the above description.
Written Test!
The dwarf groaned, dragging the stone spoon through his meal and letting the dull, wet scraping sound of the mushroom stew remind him of where he'd found himself. His eyes slowly dragged his gaze up from the murky brownness to peer out the window at the oddly quiet city and distant dawn that rested outside the flimsy-looking window of the tavern.
The dwarf's thoughts wandered to how little love he spared for the wooden constructions of the surface dwellers, much preferring the fortresses and holds of a long-since abandoned home. The images of ancient dwarven architecture and the memories made in those fine stone halls haunted him with the allure of simpler times; before he had been spurned by his own indecision into journeying to the lands of men.
A large hand with a tattered glove ran over his face, dragging it downwards like a series of thick plows would old and soggy land. The recollections plucked at his heart-strings as he thought of home, remembering his host of older siblings and the comforts of his father’s estate. It had been such a fine life, such an easy life… And that is why he left, after all.
He cursed his own pride with another scoop of cold stew, swallowing down the savory recipe as his thoughts settled into his grand mistake. How had he grown so aged, and yet done so little? Dozens of years spent tending to his family’s estate, and yet he’d mastered none of it? How much of his long life had been wasted in pursuit of doing just enough to live comfortably?
The old questions stung just as harshly now as they did when they had first struck on his 125th birthday. He had grown too old to apprentice under a proper dwarven smith, and lacked the position or wealth to find a proper bride and settle down with a family of his own. The creeping dread snuck up into his full belly, squeezing it in a cold knot.
It was going to be his destiny to waste away into nothing as the youngest of his kin, to pass on with not children nor works; no great deeds to etch his name into history. He would be forgotten as but a passing footnote in his father’s greatness… But never let it be said that such worries had ever made a dwarf less stubborn.
It had taken some time to truly decide to leave the hold; but the tales from distant lands were too much to bear as the monotony continued to erode the aging dwarf’s will. It took an entire year, but the dwarf had sternly decided… He would journey to the surface, and seek this world of men and monster. Full of adventure, full of great treasures and glories waiting to be found!
The dwarf sat upright, his face set like stone as he slid the stone lid onto the pot and began to wrap it in the cloth. He remembered why he had come here. He would find his fortune, and etch his name into history, damn his age!
He teetered off the stool with a thump, adjusting his pack and giving a stretch before he pushed his way out of the inn, facing the scorching summer sun head-on.
If only he had known what kind of terrible adventure awaited him when that sun set, on the night he and so many others fled the old world from that hungry and terrible darkness.
JobbutBladestead
2. How old are you?
23
3. What country are you from?
United States.
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
I have.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming: The use of out-of-character information while in-character. (Ex: Blurting out lore info your character doesn't know, calling out a disguise because you can see a username.)
Powergaming: The overriding of other players' agency and the reality/narrative of the scenario. (Ex: "I slit your throat before you can even respond." or "I break from the guard's cuffs while he's holding me and I'm on the ground, and I start running away again!")
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No, and if I'm uncertain about the legitimacy of a mod or texture pack I should question the staff first.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko (SirNicholas14)
8. Tell us about yourself!
I'm a long-time roleplayer and writer currently looking for a fun fantasy minecraft roleplaying server. I'm a long-time D&D Dungeon Master, and have even written content that was published on third party sources for 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons. I'm hoping to find something fun here that will help me relive some of the glory days of this game.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I previously worked with and wrote for the since-deceased Asmalur roleplaying server.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I found this server through online listings. There really isn't a great deal of pickings for roleplaying servers.
--
Character Name:
Katthik Irongrin
Character Age:
131
Character Race:
Dwarf
Appearance:
Katthik stands about 4'4", with dull brown eyes and matching hair. His body is stout, with a plump belly and jolly curves masking sturdy muscle and hardy bones. He is a fair skinned dwarf, but not without a spattering of freckles and a pinkish surface across his nose and cheeks.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'm still working on a skin to fit the above description.
Written Test!
The dwarf groaned, dragging the stone spoon through his meal and letting the dull, wet scraping sound of the mushroom stew remind him of where he'd found himself. His eyes slowly dragged his gaze up from the murky brownness to peer out the window at the oddly quiet city and distant dawn that rested outside the flimsy-looking window of the tavern.
The dwarf's thoughts wandered to how little love he spared for the wooden constructions of the surface dwellers, much preferring the fortresses and holds of a long-since abandoned home. The images of ancient dwarven architecture and the memories made in those fine stone halls haunted him with the allure of simpler times; before he had been spurned by his own indecision into journeying to the lands of men.
A large hand with a tattered glove ran over his face, dragging it downwards like a series of thick plows would old and soggy land. The recollections plucked at his heart-strings as he thought of home, remembering his host of older siblings and the comforts of his father’s estate. It had been such a fine life, such an easy life… And that is why he left, after all.
He cursed his own pride with another scoop of cold stew, swallowing down the savory recipe as his thoughts settled into his grand mistake. How had he grown so aged, and yet done so little? Dozens of years spent tending to his family’s estate, and yet he’d mastered none of it? How much of his long life had been wasted in pursuit of doing just enough to live comfortably?
The old questions stung just as harshly now as they did when they had first struck on his 125th birthday. He had grown too old to apprentice under a proper dwarven smith, and lacked the position or wealth to find a proper bride and settle down with a family of his own. The creeping dread snuck up into his full belly, squeezing it in a cold knot.
It was going to be his destiny to waste away into nothing as the youngest of his kin, to pass on with not children nor works; no great deeds to etch his name into history. He would be forgotten as but a passing footnote in his father’s greatness… But never let it be said that such worries had ever made a dwarf less stubborn.
It had taken some time to truly decide to leave the hold; but the tales from distant lands were too much to bear as the monotony continued to erode the aging dwarf’s will. It took an entire year, but the dwarf had sternly decided… He would journey to the surface, and seek this world of men and monster. Full of adventure, full of great treasures and glories waiting to be found!
The dwarf sat upright, his face set like stone as he slid the stone lid onto the pot and began to wrap it in the cloth. He remembered why he had come here. He would find his fortune, and etch his name into history, damn his age!
He teetered off the stool with a thump, adjusting his pack and giving a stretch before he pushed his way out of the inn, facing the scorching summer sun head-on.
If only he had known what kind of terrible adventure awaited him when that sun set, on the night he and so many others fled the old world from that hungry and terrible darkness.
