1. What is your Minecraft username?
Khjaaro
2. How old are you?
22
3. What country are you from?
United States
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
I have indeed!
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is the use of out of character knowledge in an in-character situation where the character has not learned said knowledge.
Powergaming on the other hand, is when one player attempts to force their own desired outcome of a roleplay situation without the consent of other players, or put simply, "forcing" their own interraction.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No, said modifications or packs are not allowed on Hollow World.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko
8. Tell us about yourself!
Greetings! My name is Nick, and I wanted to apply to this server as a place to roleplay with my friends. I've been an avid roleplayer since 2012 (So about 5 years now, my how time flies!) and it serves as one of my prime hobbies. Aside from that, I very much enjoy playing MMORPGs (FFXVI, WoW, GW2, the list goes on!), as well as other video games such as Overwatch or any game from the Elder Scrolls Series, since I'm a HUGE Elder Scrolls fan-boy. I'm a college student who has two lovely cats, and I'm studying Advertising as my future profession. I look forward to possibly joining everyone in Hollow World to write a fantastic story together!
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I'm afraid that the only thing I'd care to share here is some of my roleplay, but I suppose you'll see a sample of that further down!
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
To say I was refered is a bit of an odd question, my friends and I all stumbled upon this server in our quest to find a new place to roleplay!
Character Name:
Brandon Forren
Character Age:
Twenty and Three!
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Brandon is a man of relatively average height, if not a bit on the shorter side at 5'8", roughly 190 lbs. He sports a mop of brown hair atop his head attempted to be kept relatively short, crowning a face which was covered with a short beard. His features were relatively plain in nature-.. He certainly wasn't an ugly man, though the pale line which skipped across his left eye in a trail down to the line of his jaw robbed a portion of his brow and fledgling beard of hair certainly did nothing to help him with anything considered 'dashing' as it were. He sported light skin, as was typical of some, lending to him a yet continuingly mundane appearance, accentuated only by his piercing green eyes which threatened to allow him a uniqueness. Moving downward, his sported an athletic frame which suggested temperence in the forge of farm work made manifest, and in such implied humble beginnings, is found humble attire. He wore a simple travelers duster with a plain tunic beneath, and as you might guess, humble trousers. Perhaps the most unique item he carries is a reasonably sturdy crafted mask in the appearance of a fox. He appears to protect this item dearly. Perhaps it means a lot to him?
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'll actually need to design a new skin for this server, so I can't provide a picture, sorry!
Written Test!
The pale grey sky of dawn promised another chill to the late fall air, a crispness lent to the blades of grass underfoot from the frozen dew which layered their likeness. No welcoming fingers of light would breach the drab blanket of clouds which had ceased to disperse for a few days now. Brandon placed his hands on his hips as a visible breath rolled from his chapped lips, looking out to the dirt trail which yawned before him endlessly. He'd check once more into his plain satchel. A few dried meats, his negligible sum of coin, flint and tinder, a wood cutting ax, and of course his mask. He let a smile curl across his tiers as he was met with the vulpine visage of it, looking onward down the road once more as he set foot forward. Today marked the eighth passed year since his landing upon his confusing new land, and today would mark the day he'd move on from his life working fields. Brandon felt there was more of the world for him, something beyond the handle of a sickle. The early morning chill would subside a slight, as the grey clouds began to light in a silver tint from the light which illuminated their tops and lent visibility to the landscape about him, laying before him the brilliant hues of formerly verdant leaves atop the trees which lined the path to either side in a forest fit to sleep, prepared to be tucked amidst a blanket of snow and soothed to rest from the whistling lullabies of winter wind.
Brandon turned his mind from thoughts of winter, choosing to ignore his poor choice of time in departure on this new chapter of his life. He continued to tread down the path, only the sound of rocks and dirt shifting beneath his boots accompanying him as he pressed on. The day was mostly like this, lonely steps setting a tempo which he set his thoughts to, pondering many of things great and small in a listless stream. He thought of summer warmth and how he missed it already, of the scent of freshly baked bread. He thought of how he envied birds in their perspective, and whether or not birds thought fondly of him and felt the same envy of him. He considered the trees around him, wondered if they looked back to him as he spied their gnarled roots and curved branches, and he occasionally thought of the future and what would become of him. On occasion Brandon would interrupt his ponderings by humoring himself with a bit of childishness, drawing his mask from his bag and donning it over his features. He took on a confident gait and pretended he was a gilded hero, or perhaps a feared yet brave swordsmen, just like in the stories he read in his youth. He'd spar and best invisible foes with a stray stick he'd happened upon in grand flourishes of his wooden rapier, and indulge in the cheers of phantasmal crowds which showered their adoration from the echoes of his imagination. He was however, embarrassed to find that he'd been spied by travelers moving opposite to him in the moment of his daydream and found himself the brief brunt of a few jeers.
"Oi, yew some 'kinda forest sprite lad? Sportin' around like a fox eh? Mind yourself, don't wanna get holed by hounds!"
They didn't understand in their laughs. He'd surely make a name for himself, and this mask wasn't to be a sight from which to derive a laugh from the sheer queerness of its evidence on his person. He planned to do great things in this mask, and still indulge in the life of a common man. Yes, it would be just like one of his story books.
Khjaaro
2. How old are you?
22
3. What country are you from?
United States
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
I have indeed!
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is the use of out of character knowledge in an in-character situation where the character has not learned said knowledge.
Powergaming on the other hand, is when one player attempts to force their own desired outcome of a roleplay situation without the consent of other players, or put simply, "forcing" their own interraction.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No, said modifications or packs are not allowed on Hollow World.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko
8. Tell us about yourself!
Greetings! My name is Nick, and I wanted to apply to this server as a place to roleplay with my friends. I've been an avid roleplayer since 2012 (So about 5 years now, my how time flies!) and it serves as one of my prime hobbies. Aside from that, I very much enjoy playing MMORPGs (FFXVI, WoW, GW2, the list goes on!), as well as other video games such as Overwatch or any game from the Elder Scrolls Series, since I'm a HUGE Elder Scrolls fan-boy. I'm a college student who has two lovely cats, and I'm studying Advertising as my future profession. I look forward to possibly joining everyone in Hollow World to write a fantastic story together!
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I'm afraid that the only thing I'd care to share here is some of my roleplay, but I suppose you'll see a sample of that further down!
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
To say I was refered is a bit of an odd question, my friends and I all stumbled upon this server in our quest to find a new place to roleplay!
Character Name:
Brandon Forren
Character Age:
Twenty and Three!
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Brandon is a man of relatively average height, if not a bit on the shorter side at 5'8", roughly 190 lbs. He sports a mop of brown hair atop his head attempted to be kept relatively short, crowning a face which was covered with a short beard. His features were relatively plain in nature-.. He certainly wasn't an ugly man, though the pale line which skipped across his left eye in a trail down to the line of his jaw robbed a portion of his brow and fledgling beard of hair certainly did nothing to help him with anything considered 'dashing' as it were. He sported light skin, as was typical of some, lending to him a yet continuingly mundane appearance, accentuated only by his piercing green eyes which threatened to allow him a uniqueness. Moving downward, his sported an athletic frame which suggested temperence in the forge of farm work made manifest, and in such implied humble beginnings, is found humble attire. He wore a simple travelers duster with a plain tunic beneath, and as you might guess, humble trousers. Perhaps the most unique item he carries is a reasonably sturdy crafted mask in the appearance of a fox. He appears to protect this item dearly. Perhaps it means a lot to him?
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'll actually need to design a new skin for this server, so I can't provide a picture, sorry!
Written Test!
The pale grey sky of dawn promised another chill to the late fall air, a crispness lent to the blades of grass underfoot from the frozen dew which layered their likeness. No welcoming fingers of light would breach the drab blanket of clouds which had ceased to disperse for a few days now. Brandon placed his hands on his hips as a visible breath rolled from his chapped lips, looking out to the dirt trail which yawned before him endlessly. He'd check once more into his plain satchel. A few dried meats, his negligible sum of coin, flint and tinder, a wood cutting ax, and of course his mask. He let a smile curl across his tiers as he was met with the vulpine visage of it, looking onward down the road once more as he set foot forward. Today marked the eighth passed year since his landing upon his confusing new land, and today would mark the day he'd move on from his life working fields. Brandon felt there was more of the world for him, something beyond the handle of a sickle. The early morning chill would subside a slight, as the grey clouds began to light in a silver tint from the light which illuminated their tops and lent visibility to the landscape about him, laying before him the brilliant hues of formerly verdant leaves atop the trees which lined the path to either side in a forest fit to sleep, prepared to be tucked amidst a blanket of snow and soothed to rest from the whistling lullabies of winter wind.
Brandon turned his mind from thoughts of winter, choosing to ignore his poor choice of time in departure on this new chapter of his life. He continued to tread down the path, only the sound of rocks and dirt shifting beneath his boots accompanying him as he pressed on. The day was mostly like this, lonely steps setting a tempo which he set his thoughts to, pondering many of things great and small in a listless stream. He thought of summer warmth and how he missed it already, of the scent of freshly baked bread. He thought of how he envied birds in their perspective, and whether or not birds thought fondly of him and felt the same envy of him. He considered the trees around him, wondered if they looked back to him as he spied their gnarled roots and curved branches, and he occasionally thought of the future and what would become of him. On occasion Brandon would interrupt his ponderings by humoring himself with a bit of childishness, drawing his mask from his bag and donning it over his features. He took on a confident gait and pretended he was a gilded hero, or perhaps a feared yet brave swordsmen, just like in the stories he read in his youth. He'd spar and best invisible foes with a stray stick he'd happened upon in grand flourishes of his wooden rapier, and indulge in the cheers of phantasmal crowds which showered their adoration from the echoes of his imagination. He was however, embarrassed to find that he'd been spied by travelers moving opposite to him in the moment of his daydream and found himself the brief brunt of a few jeers.
"Oi, yew some 'kinda forest sprite lad? Sportin' around like a fox eh? Mind yourself, don't wanna get holed by hounds!"
They didn't understand in their laughs. He'd surely make a name for himself, and this mask wasn't to be a sight from which to derive a laugh from the sheer queerness of its evidence on his person. He planned to do great things in this mask, and still indulge in the life of a common man. Yes, it would be just like one of his story books.
