Minecraft Username: RicketyTrickster Age: 23 Country & Timezone: GMT +3 Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Powergaming: 1. Forcing others' actions through your own descriptions 2. The character wields unrealistic power and/or abilities. Metagaming: Using out-of-character knowledge in-character. Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No Tell us about yourself!: Hey! I'm a veteran of the hobby, relapsing after a looong break. Typical fantasy nerd, you know the kind. I also sit by the computer for a living. Minecraft RP just seems to be the best of both worlds Referral: UNHANDME ________________________________________ {Character Section} Character Name: Vinzent Wachs Age: 20 Race: Anhalder Human Appearance: Vinzent is an underwhelming sight - a mere shade in the colorful tapestry of "the crowd". Not that he's trying to fall out of sight, it just happens. His clothing would be best described as neutral. Not pristine, not unkempt either. His dark pants are puffed at the thighs, his white shirt has some nearly-white patches on it. To top it off - an unassuming vest! His black hair's supposed to be cropped, but it hasn't been for some time now. His complexion is pale, his eyes - grey blue. His posture's not the greatest. One would assume that he might be doing some heavy lifting, but his general build would indicate the contrary. He seems tired, not exhausted, stumbling every dozen steps or so, with seemingly everlasting bags under his eyes. (Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread Written Test (Min: 400 words): "I don't take books fer payment, boy" the dwarf grumbled. What new scam is this? He'll give the man a ride, then the library will come knocking at his home for some overdue payment? "Are you sure..? There's this one intriguing passage on mountain brews..." Vinzent began flipping through his proposed payment to find the chapter. "Let me stop ya right there." A stout finger stopped the page flipping. "Just because I'm a dwarf, that makes me a drunk?" "What? Oh! No, no, I just figured..-" "Ye figured wrong! I only drink on birthdays, name days, weddings, and funerals!" There's a name day every day... Right? "... A dwarf of great resolve." "My second cousin, however! 'e might take a gander... Ye got any secret recipes in there?" "Oh, certainly! This author was great friends with the Toothbacks - not sure if you know them--" "Save it for tha trip." The Dwarf grinned and extended his hand, to help Vinzent up onto the wagon. "But first, I suggest gettin' some shuteye, 'ere's plenty of room in the back. Ye look like you've come straight for the Sorrows!" "Gladly" Vinzent smiled and, within minutes, had hit the sack. Literally. It was preferable to the crates. His dreams were of sentences and paragraphs, of asterisks and footnotes. Of those that he's read, and those that will come. He's had this habit for a while, where midnight reads turn to sleep, and reality itself gets tangled up with fantasy. It was an uneasy rest. Knowing that he'll have to part with one of his written treasures. But perhaps worth it, considering what awaited at the end of this latest journey. Knowledge yet unseen, entire worlds undiscovered. Gods know how long until he'll find a moment of rest once he's in the city. Perhaps the break was deserved, after all. |