LordofthePies314
Villager
LordofthePies314
The Whitelist Application Form
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
LordofthePies314
2. How old are you?
21 — November 7th, 2001
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
USA, Mountain Standard Time (Denver)
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
King’s Law: Yes. All three sections.
Code of Conducts: Yes. Most staff are in GMT or EST. Hi Mods (Lannis, Solus, Wolf, Elz, Ice&Fire, and Ghost) :wave: (Soooo embarrassing if I have the wrong team <.<).
Official Lore: Yes. Thinking about being a Daoine that secretly worships Visage and has a goal of obtaining (or at least seeing) one of those super shiny artifacts and relics (as intangible as they’ll likely be).
Player Guides: Yes, though I’m hoping to learn as much of the Common Knowledge, Combat, and Stats with someone that can walk me through it. Even though I’ve read it, some things are difficult to totally absorb until you’re running the commands.
(There, you can find information about how our server is run, as well as the playable races.)
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
(It is important to understand what these terms are and why they are bannable offenses in any roleplaying community.)
Metagaming is using information gained out of character to serve an in-character purpose, whether accidentally or otherwise. Common examples include ousting someone’s secret plans that they only told you in a VC, your character visiting a location you were shown by a friend but not actually in the game, or mixing forum posts up with in-game information.
Powergaming is when a player tries to abuse available systems in order to gain an extreme advantage over others, like with skill or gear grinding. It can also be forcing actions or effects to happen on characters that aren’t your own, fudging rolls, or rules lawyering your way out of GM calls.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nope! Any “client-side mods intended to give a benefit to the player” are not allowed.
7. Tell us about yourself! Do you have any examples of your work?
Hi-hi! I go by Lord or Pies, either works. Bonus points if you get the reference. No pronoun preference. Despite my music taste being very wide, my choice of games is extremely narrow. Skyrim, Rimworld, and Minecraft are my favorites, with little else holding up to the thousands of hours I have in each. I used to actually own/host/write for a role-play server of my own, and happily worked on it for a little over two years. I dropped it for the sake of my health (my anxiety is ridiculous, but hey, in this economy, who can afford to be normal?) Sadly I now have a full time job, so I can’t give the same amount of commitment now as I could then, but RPGs of any kind are still a huge passion of mine (not to be confused with MMORPGs, barf). I love writing, and might do it a little too much (sorry for whoever gets to read this, but with my experience, I know you’ve seen worse.) Though, writing about yourself is… rough. I never know what to say. So, let me talk about what I’ve written instead, eh?
My mother’s top three picks:
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
No referral! I found it on the Planet Minecraft RP server listing
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About Your Character!
This section is about the character you intend to use once you join the server. We ask that new players follow these guidelines during this portion of the application:
Characters begin with basic skills and gear. No advanced armor or weaponry. Skills and abilities are appropriate to a novice level. Skills should be learned through roleplay, not through backstory.
Characters fit the lore. If you choose to play as a Moor Elf, for example, we expect appearance and details to be fitting with base lore.
Characters cannot use magic in any way. The test itself should not mention magic either. HollowWorld uses a restricted magic system and it is only accessible to those who find and learn from a teacher in-game.
Tests should not be violent. No murder, killing, death, torture. In the past, 8 out of 10 applications featured characters fighting off bandits or slaying passersby. We don't want to see how well you can script a fight scene. We want to see how well you can tell a story, how well you can roleplay.
Be creative and be original. Do not use tests/characters whose home villages were burned, parents murdered, and then set off to be an orphan assassin. It has been done before. Please don't do it again.
You can remove the guidelines above when you're copy and pasting the application. The instructions above are for you to read and can be removed when applying.
Current Setting of the Server:
The lands of Altera have long been laced with upheaval, supernatural turmoil that would threaten to shatter the realm or tear it asunder. Long, have the peoples of Altera withstood these tribulations, overcoming and persevering through the generations. Only too recently, have they settled the ire of Titans and Gods. Though the days were dark and long, the realm did survive, through tenacity and reverence. The memories of their trials behind them still fresh, the realm sits in a state of unease and angst . . . with eyes on the horizon.
In the skies above, the stars flicker and burn across the auburn colors of the setting sun, streaks of color in the gathering dark. The Realm of Altera awaits . . .
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Character Name: Sophia Liston-Callister
Character Age: 24
Character Race: Human — Daoine
Appearance: Auburn Hair, Brown Eyes, Pale Skin, Nice but Practical Attire
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
LordofthePies314
2. How old are you?
21 — November 7th, 2001
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
USA, Mountain Standard Time (Denver)
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
King’s Law: Yes. All three sections.
Code of Conducts: Yes. Most staff are in GMT or EST. Hi Mods (Lannis, Solus, Wolf, Elz, Ice&Fire, and Ghost) :wave: (Soooo embarrassing if I have the wrong team <.<).
Official Lore: Yes. Thinking about being a Daoine that secretly worships Visage and has a goal of obtaining (or at least seeing) one of those super shiny artifacts and relics (as intangible as they’ll likely be).
Player Guides: Yes, though I’m hoping to learn as much of the Common Knowledge, Combat, and Stats with someone that can walk me through it. Even though I’ve read it, some things are difficult to totally absorb until you’re running the commands.
(There, you can find information about how our server is run, as well as the playable races.)
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
(It is important to understand what these terms are and why they are bannable offenses in any roleplaying community.)
Metagaming is using information gained out of character to serve an in-character purpose, whether accidentally or otherwise. Common examples include ousting someone’s secret plans that they only told you in a VC, your character visiting a location you were shown by a friend but not actually in the game, or mixing forum posts up with in-game information.
Powergaming is when a player tries to abuse available systems in order to gain an extreme advantage over others, like with skill or gear grinding. It can also be forcing actions or effects to happen on characters that aren’t your own, fudging rolls, or rules lawyering your way out of GM calls.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nope! Any “client-side mods intended to give a benefit to the player” are not allowed.
7. Tell us about yourself! Do you have any examples of your work?
Hi-hi! I go by Lord or Pies, either works. Bonus points if you get the reference. No pronoun preference. Despite my music taste being very wide, my choice of games is extremely narrow. Skyrim, Rimworld, and Minecraft are my favorites, with little else holding up to the thousands of hours I have in each. I used to actually own/host/write for a role-play server of my own, and happily worked on it for a little over two years. I dropped it for the sake of my health (my anxiety is ridiculous, but hey, in this economy, who can afford to be normal?) Sadly I now have a full time job, so I can’t give the same amount of commitment now as I could then, but RPGs of any kind are still a huge passion of mine (not to be confused with MMORPGs, barf). I love writing, and might do it a little too much (sorry for whoever gets to read this, but with my experience, I know you’ve seen worse.) Though, writing about yourself is… rough. I never know what to say. So, let me talk about what I’ve written instead, eh?
My mother’s top three picks:
- R3N-G3O
- R3N-G3O (CS)
- This is actually a “prolog” for a text RP I was hosting with my mother (who’s a nerd just as much as I am). She loved it so much that she wanted me to turn it into a properly ended short story that she convinced me to post on Ao3. It is *technically* Fallout 4 fanfiction (though I will admit I’ve only played about 2% of the game, hehe).
- Ren is one of my favorite characters despite my limited knowledge of the game that her “race” is from. Synths and their dilemma give me life. This writing is accidentally about what it means to be human.
- TW: Suicide Mention
- Tieflings Race Document
- Tieflings (First Draft)
- Tieflings! What more can be said about the traditional DnD goat-man race that is every sad rogue or bard ever? A lot, apparently. For a brief moment, I worked for Fables and Fantasy. I don’t really agree with what they’re doing today, and a lot of their actions served to be the main reason why I left. Though, when I was helping them develop their game, they asked me to make an entire race and nation — specifically Tieflings, with the ask that they’re nothing like DnD Tieflings. This was my solution. I absolutely love everything they are, and they have a nation document beside this, but this doc is my pride and joy. I even made a calendar (from scratch) for this race! It’s a shame most of it got trashed when I left. Sigh.
- Introductions — Phyrrah and the Monolith
- Introductions
- It was difficult whittling down a favorite for third place, especially since most of what my mom thinks is my best “work” was the DMing I did in the game. RP is rarely kept, and often needs contextualizing, but I managed to find a piece I saved that works well enough on its own. I even color-coded it for your enjoyment.
- This was actually one of the last events I did for this server — Feudal Tales— and, beyond some things I can’t summarize in a paragraph, became my favorite. Spooky spirits send my heart aflutter, truly.
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
No referral! I found it on the Planet Minecraft RP server listing
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
About Your Character!
This section is about the character you intend to use once you join the server. We ask that new players follow these guidelines during this portion of the application:
Characters begin with basic skills and gear. No advanced armor or weaponry. Skills and abilities are appropriate to a novice level. Skills should be learned through roleplay, not through backstory.
Characters fit the lore. If you choose to play as a Moor Elf, for example, we expect appearance and details to be fitting with base lore.
Characters cannot use magic in any way. The test itself should not mention magic either. HollowWorld uses a restricted magic system and it is only accessible to those who find and learn from a teacher in-game.
Tests should not be violent. No murder, killing, death, torture. In the past, 8 out of 10 applications featured characters fighting off bandits or slaying passersby. We don't want to see how well you can script a fight scene. We want to see how well you can tell a story, how well you can roleplay.
Be creative and be original. Do not use tests/characters whose home villages were burned, parents murdered, and then set off to be an orphan assassin. It has been done before. Please don't do it again.
You can remove the guidelines above when you're copy and pasting the application. The instructions above are for you to read and can be removed when applying.
Current Setting of the Server:
The lands of Altera have long been laced with upheaval, supernatural turmoil that would threaten to shatter the realm or tear it asunder. Long, have the peoples of Altera withstood these tribulations, overcoming and persevering through the generations. Only too recently, have they settled the ire of Titans and Gods. Though the days were dark and long, the realm did survive, through tenacity and reverence. The memories of their trials behind them still fresh, the realm sits in a state of unease and angst . . . with eyes on the horizon.
In the skies above, the stars flicker and burn across the auburn colors of the setting sun, streaks of color in the gathering dark. The Realm of Altera awaits . . .
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Character Name: Sophia Liston-Callister
Character Age: 24
Character Race: Human — Daoine
Appearance: Auburn Hair, Brown Eyes, Pale Skin, Nice but Practical Attire
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Sophia tapped her fingertips against the pristine countertop of her father’s clinic. This close to the emergency room doors you could smell the iron of old blood that stained the once-bright maple cherry. She was thankful for the waft of strong liquor and herbal scents that came through the swinging doors whenever a new body entered and an old doctor left.
She straightened as her father passed into the lobby, wiping his hands off on a square of gifted linen he kept safely tucked into his belt.
He flashed a grin. “Another quick one.”
Sophia blew out a tired breath. “When do you ever have slow ones?”
The doctor set his hands on the counter. “Hey! Drilling takes quite a while with all that squirming.”
A waiting room guest peered up from their book, eyebrow raised and face reading great concern.
Doctor Liston, of course, simply waved a hand dismissively. “Nurse Abby will be cleaning up after me today, so you needn’t worry about the tools, but I will be needing your help for my four o’ clock.”
Sophia gave a soft smile. “Let me guess… leg amputation?”
Her father made a sawing motion. “At the hip. They rarely make it easy anymore and get shot in the knees.”
“Only you would pray that you could cut a leg off at its lower joint.”
“Quicker that way.”
“Shouldn’t we be asking Shalherana for a speedy recovery?”
“Perhaps after the fact. It’s a shame we only make our Radiants from misfortune. Speaking of—”
The door crashed open, ripping everyone’s attention toward the front of house.
Sophia need only see the swarm of emerald Teaghlach tabards and silver blades to know that her time was up.
Liston jumped between the men and his daughter, the motion a silent cry to run. He clumsily struggled with the first few frustrated men, buying her precious seconds.
She leapt over the counter and dashed beyond the swinging doors, leaving her father to be dragged off by his collar, gripped by the Nathair.
Their shouts were drowned out by the pounding of her heart as she passed room after room, her mind only set on the next step — and a bag hidden buried under towels by the back door.
Sophia narrowly dodged an opening door, which, seconds later, blocked a grasping hand. She glanced behind her, meeting the dusty, and furious eyes of Aodah.
There was no time for apologies, but a look said more than she ever could. Sorry, old friend. She knew that despite their years together, to him, it was duty over debt. Every cut bandaged, every slight forgiven— Oh, Sallana, would he still love her for this?
On Sophia ran, tearing up the laundry basket. As soon as the leather of her travel pack was in her hands, she was out the door.
She skirted around an oncoming shield bash, meant to knock her into the arms of Aodah, still hot on her heels.
Breathe. Sophia reminded herself. It’s just like you were told.
Luckily for her, it seemed the Nathair weren’t expecting a fight. Only two men guarded the back door, the rest spilling in from the front, ripping the clinic’s insides apart.
She couldn’t think about it. The guilt would stop her dead in her tracks.
On she ran, vaulting over fences and marring beautiful, yet sleeping gardens with each frantic step, until finally, she took pause in the market crowd. The cacophony of dark gambesons and bright afternoon dresses did well to disguise her. That, and the winter furs she pulled from her bag and wrapped around her shoulders.
Only did the clamor of the square’s chatter, flutes, and fiddles break into silence when warning horns rang throughout the city. It’d be her head or her hands now that she had run. Perhaps she’d be lucky and they’d only take fingers. Though, Sophia knew better than to rely on luck.
So she swayed with the ebb and flow of the market rabble, until she made her way to the city’s edge. There was a boat, like she knew there’d be — The Misty Veil painted on its side. Its captain stood at alert, setting pole in hand, as if it might save him from the storm to come.
Sophia settled in, pulling a dirty tarp over her and her things. The captain poured a barrel of fresh fish over her to disguise her from dock-worker and port guard before finally moving on.
She did her best not to pant under the stink of cold fish, thankful that summer was long past. Her chest hurt in Ghostmoon’s foggy air, her breath catching in the wind and glinting against what light snuck in through the cracks of the tarp. Already she ached against the wood of the ship, but any motion would destroy her chances of leaving this place unscathed.
The chatter of the city dissolved in the swirl and rush of river water. Sitting so still that her limbs fell numb, this soon became the longest boat ride of her life, despite the short crossing to the Moores.
The only thing she felt was the hot pinpricks of tears, threatening something worse to come as the adrenaline settled, only guilt and fear replacing it.
I’m sorry, father. Give me a good wake.
She straightened as her father passed into the lobby, wiping his hands off on a square of gifted linen he kept safely tucked into his belt.
He flashed a grin. “Another quick one.”
Sophia blew out a tired breath. “When do you ever have slow ones?”
The doctor set his hands on the counter. “Hey! Drilling takes quite a while with all that squirming.”
A waiting room guest peered up from their book, eyebrow raised and face reading great concern.
Doctor Liston, of course, simply waved a hand dismissively. “Nurse Abby will be cleaning up after me today, so you needn’t worry about the tools, but I will be needing your help for my four o’ clock.”
Sophia gave a soft smile. “Let me guess… leg amputation?”
Her father made a sawing motion. “At the hip. They rarely make it easy anymore and get shot in the knees.”
“Only you would pray that you could cut a leg off at its lower joint.”
“Quicker that way.”
“Shouldn’t we be asking Shalherana for a speedy recovery?”
“Perhaps after the fact. It’s a shame we only make our Radiants from misfortune. Speaking of—”
The door crashed open, ripping everyone’s attention toward the front of house.
Sophia need only see the swarm of emerald Teaghlach tabards and silver blades to know that her time was up.
Liston jumped between the men and his daughter, the motion a silent cry to run. He clumsily struggled with the first few frustrated men, buying her precious seconds.
She leapt over the counter and dashed beyond the swinging doors, leaving her father to be dragged off by his collar, gripped by the Nathair.
Their shouts were drowned out by the pounding of her heart as she passed room after room, her mind only set on the next step — and a bag hidden buried under towels by the back door.
Sophia narrowly dodged an opening door, which, seconds later, blocked a grasping hand. She glanced behind her, meeting the dusty, and furious eyes of Aodah.
There was no time for apologies, but a look said more than she ever could. Sorry, old friend. She knew that despite their years together, to him, it was duty over debt. Every cut bandaged, every slight forgiven— Oh, Sallana, would he still love her for this?
On Sophia ran, tearing up the laundry basket. As soon as the leather of her travel pack was in her hands, she was out the door.
She skirted around an oncoming shield bash, meant to knock her into the arms of Aodah, still hot on her heels.
Breathe. Sophia reminded herself. It’s just like you were told.
Luckily for her, it seemed the Nathair weren’t expecting a fight. Only two men guarded the back door, the rest spilling in from the front, ripping the clinic’s insides apart.
She couldn’t think about it. The guilt would stop her dead in her tracks.
On she ran, vaulting over fences and marring beautiful, yet sleeping gardens with each frantic step, until finally, she took pause in the market crowd. The cacophony of dark gambesons and bright afternoon dresses did well to disguise her. That, and the winter furs she pulled from her bag and wrapped around her shoulders.
Only did the clamor of the square’s chatter, flutes, and fiddles break into silence when warning horns rang throughout the city. It’d be her head or her hands now that she had run. Perhaps she’d be lucky and they’d only take fingers. Though, Sophia knew better than to rely on luck.
So she swayed with the ebb and flow of the market rabble, until she made her way to the city’s edge. There was a boat, like she knew there’d be — The Misty Veil painted on its side. Its captain stood at alert, setting pole in hand, as if it might save him from the storm to come.
Sophia settled in, pulling a dirty tarp over her and her things. The captain poured a barrel of fresh fish over her to disguise her from dock-worker and port guard before finally moving on.
She did her best not to pant under the stink of cold fish, thankful that summer was long past. Her chest hurt in Ghostmoon’s foggy air, her breath catching in the wind and glinting against what light snuck in through the cracks of the tarp. Already she ached against the wood of the ship, but any motion would destroy her chances of leaving this place unscathed.
The chatter of the city dissolved in the swirl and rush of river water. Sitting so still that her limbs fell numb, this soon became the longest boat ride of her life, despite the short crossing to the Moores.
The only thing she felt was the hot pinpricks of tears, threatening something worse to come as the adrenaline settled, only guilt and fear replacing it.
I’m sorry, father. Give me a good wake.
