- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nomine
LegendMerchant
{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: Berehynia
Age: 21+
Country & Timezone: USA / CST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is using information learned out of character to influence events in character without having come across this information in game. Powergaming is controlling the actions and outcomes of another player's character without proper consent.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I value story above all else in roleplay, because it's never about the loot, the land, or the meta-numbers. The people and their ideas are what make it creative and fun. That said, I like to write. A lot. I'm also guilty of the crime of using punctuation in typical conversation, so I usually resort to weird emotes instead. I'd rather get a laugh or eyeroll out of someone, because honestly we could all use more good humor these days. Really, my only interest is in chilling out with some cool people I know and getting back to some grassroots RP. Fresh slate. Let's go!
Referral: Blame Morpheus for my application.
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Isolde Lindemann
Age: 35
Race: Silver Elf
Appearance: Isolde stands at a meager 5'6", having gained little height in her youth due some malnourishment, because of this she is also physically frail even by elven standards. A stiff breeze could probably topple her over. Despite her literal shortcomings, she holds a remarkably regal bearing of old Silver Elf blood. She has a fair complexion with starkly contrasting long, black hair, and eyes like polished silver. At the moment, her only garment is an old and well worn dress that looks like it was once of a fine quality.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
Innocence may never be spared from tragedy, and all too often it may neither know why it was lost. Such is the unfortunate fate of humble Isolde, who was raised under a most spiteful yet lofty roof of affluence that would have preferred to keep her sheltered away from the view of the world forever. If time and providence had not ultimately allowed her to outlast the keeper of the key to her gilded cage. While she may understand that her elegantly pointed ears are to blame for why she would never have the whole of her late grandfather's love, she would also blessedly never learn the full truth of the terrible grief that he carried which had hardened his heart the day she was born.
Having lost his only beloved daughter in the most unexpected birth of the elven child, the old knight had turned his hateful rage to the one who was promised to be a new father and on that haunted evening two lives were taken, but not quite three. Out of a misplaced sense of honor, he raised the girl who reminded him daily of his loss and of his sin, locking her away from his sight only to be driven slowly mad by the sound of his daughter's voice singing yet from above her grave. Forgiveness could not possibly comfort him, for no opportunity had ever been taken to tell the granddaughter that he shunned why he despised her so, and guilt could not rid him of her for as long as she sang.
It was not until he was ancient and feeble that the fallen knight would reap the treachery he had sown decades past and drop a candle to clutch his chest in a seize of bitter anguish during a song's swell. Just and voracious fire would quickly consume the household built on malice and finery that had been left to turn to brittle sordid dust. The halls of the great manor empty of any who might have been able to stop them from burning, Isolde could simply stand and watch as the only life she had ever known crumbled into ash, and yet her heart was not heavy. Instead, her mind was abuzz with the static noise of existence without direction, thus she turned from the harrowing wreckage bewildered and with only a roughly hewn path to follow onward into the unknown.
Minecraft Username: Berehynia
Age: 21+
Country & Timezone: USA / CST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is using information learned out of character to influence events in character without having come across this information in game. Powergaming is controlling the actions and outcomes of another player's character without proper consent.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I value story above all else in roleplay, because it's never about the loot, the land, or the meta-numbers. The people and their ideas are what make it creative and fun. That said, I like to write. A lot. I'm also guilty of the crime of using punctuation in typical conversation, so I usually resort to weird emotes instead. I'd rather get a laugh or eyeroll out of someone, because honestly we could all use more good humor these days. Really, my only interest is in chilling out with some cool people I know and getting back to some grassroots RP. Fresh slate. Let's go!
Referral: Blame Morpheus for my application.
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Isolde Lindemann
Age: 35
Race: Silver Elf
Appearance: Isolde stands at a meager 5'6", having gained little height in her youth due some malnourishment, because of this she is also physically frail even by elven standards. A stiff breeze could probably topple her over. Despite her literal shortcomings, she holds a remarkably regal bearing of old Silver Elf blood. She has a fair complexion with starkly contrasting long, black hair, and eyes like polished silver. At the moment, her only garment is an old and well worn dress that looks like it was once of a fine quality.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
Innocence may never be spared from tragedy, and all too often it may neither know why it was lost. Such is the unfortunate fate of humble Isolde, who was raised under a most spiteful yet lofty roof of affluence that would have preferred to keep her sheltered away from the view of the world forever. If time and providence had not ultimately allowed her to outlast the keeper of the key to her gilded cage. While she may understand that her elegantly pointed ears are to blame for why she would never have the whole of her late grandfather's love, she would also blessedly never learn the full truth of the terrible grief that he carried which had hardened his heart the day she was born.
Having lost his only beloved daughter in the most unexpected birth of the elven child, the old knight had turned his hateful rage to the one who was promised to be a new father and on that haunted evening two lives were taken, but not quite three. Out of a misplaced sense of honor, he raised the girl who reminded him daily of his loss and of his sin, locking her away from his sight only to be driven slowly mad by the sound of his daughter's voice singing yet from above her grave. Forgiveness could not possibly comfort him, for no opportunity had ever been taken to tell the granddaughter that he shunned why he despised her so, and guilt could not rid him of her for as long as she sang.
It was not until he was ancient and feeble that the fallen knight would reap the treachery he had sown decades past and drop a candle to clutch his chest in a seize of bitter anguish during a song's swell. Just and voracious fire would quickly consume the household built on malice and finery that had been left to turn to brittle sordid dust. The halls of the great manor empty of any who might have been able to stop them from burning, Isolde could simply stand and watch as the only life she had ever known crumbled into ash, and yet her heart was not heavy. Instead, her mind was abuzz with the static noise of existence without direction, thus she turned from the harrowing wreckage bewildered and with only a roughly hewn path to follow onward into the unknown.
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