{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: Lemoy_Siul
Age: 24
Country & Timezone: Mexico (UTC -6)
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is to try and close the gap between player knowledge and character knowledge, meaning that the player may make decisions based on their own knowledge, not the one from the character. Powergaming is when a player enacts situations in which their character always ends on top even when the situation is clearly out of their hands; meaning the characters or players always have things go their way without effort. In other words, is to be overpowered.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I am somewhat of a shy person, but I still enjoy to be in company of other people, specially those who like to create and hear stories, and play games, since those are my favorite hobbies. While I'm mostly quiet, I think I have some ease in describing and writing, although my English might not be the best around. I am aiming to become a full time artist at some point, and in fact, I am participating in a comic OCT (Original Character Tournament) called War for Rayuba, in which I have made a couple comics (not that I'm between the best artists, mind you). Right now, I am also studying a course in electric instalation, since being a basic level English teacher is not a very viable career in my city. Between the course, my job, and the OCT I have little time to play, but I'm looking forward to invest some more time on this once the OCT is finished.
Referral: I just looked for a more roleplay focused Minecraft server on the web, so I stumbled upon this server in the results of the search
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Cynwrig
Age: 174
Race: Caparii
Appearance:
A stout Greathorn, built to be a warrior, yet porting a heavily bent posture, dwarfing what would easily be 6 feet of muscle and horn into a still tall but less threatening mass of 5'7. He seems like having a once deep black fur on his legs and head, now turning grayish because of his age. His head is covered in a dirty and thick hair that covers most of his face, only adorned by weathered horns, shiny gray eyes and a hooked nose that protrudes outside of his mane, all topped by a grampa-like smile that stumbles between aimable and scheming. He wears a heavy dark brownish wool cloak so thick it seems to be the responsible for his encurvature overlaying an old but otherwise elegant and exotic orchid vest made of cotton, adorned with golden trims. He wears a leather belt with a golden chiseled buckle with many packs hanging of it, two bronze armlets on his right arm and a stone bracer on his left arm adorned with colorful stones and another bronze ring on his left calf. His horns and hooves are chiseled. He also wears some pieces of old iron armor pieces: a right pauldron over the cloak, a right hand gauntlet and a left tasset hanging from his belt.
As accesories and additional items, he has a broken iron sword, old but elegant in its making, it defenitley looks like it had better days and is at the point of turning into dust any second now. He always has this sword within arm reach but rarely uses it, as it has more of a sentimental value. He also has a strange pendant, made by a bronze halo encroaching a piece of turtle's shell which was labrated into a circlet to fit within the bronze ring, adorned with a red ribbon, marking some kind of holy meaning in the Lenngseah culture.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'll work on the skin, but here's some quick concept art I made
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
It was my first day being assigned to the guard post at the gate. I had completed my training and became a town centinel at Queensport, finaly landing the stable job I have been looking for years. Being a guard is usually calm and uneventful, something I really appreciate since I'm not much of a hardworker myself, but there are days when the town is filled with new visitors from both land and sea. The captain moved a whole lot of the garrison to cover the entrances and keep track of the new arrivals, including me, to my disgust. I was asigned with other 13 soldiers to watch and question the newcomers to make sure what were their intentions in the city. Some of these soldiers already knew some of the travelers and chatted with them as old friends, but I found myself not very comfortable when speaking with them. The stories, trinkets and everything else that these people brought were not on my interest. Going adventuring is not something I really find myself invested in. As the time passed I only found myself more and more bored, tired and annoyed, having to make the same tedious routine of asking and looking at the wares over and over again.
That is, until I saw him. A robust figure, covered in a dark coat with bulging horns growing out of a hairy head, bringing with him a pair of pack mules covered in packages. While he looked and moved like any other merchant, I could only see one thing on him: problems. As he aproached, I couldn't help but feel inclined to register this outsider myself. Was it by a sense of duty or sheer curiosity? I don't know, but I didn't want to pass over this guy.
I aproached him and he smiled at me with a seemingly honest and innocent smirk that only made me feel more uncomfortable. Trying to keep some semblance of authority, I asked him: "What are your intentions here?"
Opening his eyes like if he was caught off guard by the question, he replied in a soothing tone: "Excuse me?"
I repeated myself, not wanting to back up a little bit: "I said, what are your intentions here?"
He twitched a little, like if he just realized what the conversation was about: "Oh, my apologies, it's just I'm somewhat used to be greeted before answering questions"
I was not having any of it: "We are skipping formalities today. Now tell me what are your whereabouts."
Still with a semblance of understanding on his face, the man told me: "I see. Well I just came from a long journey, looking to sell some commodities to this city. Some good profit and favors for some friends are in my baggage, and I would like to deliver while preparing for my next trip."
"You take me for a fool!?" I screamed as I was having enough of this farse, and decided to look closer to his "wares".
I was right! There were weapons, potions and all manners of artifacts between all the wares he was obviously using as a facade. I paralized for a moment, I was not ready for this! He could try and kill me in the spot to try and run away! In a flash, I unsheathed my sword and pointed it at him, but in a similar shock to mine he just raised his hands in compliance with an expression of surprise.
Not taking my eyes away from him I shouted at my companions in desperation. "Help! Weapons Smuggler! He's armed to the -"
I got interrupted by a hand falling at my shoulder as a voice resounded right behind me. "By the gods! What do you think you're doing!?"
It was one of the centinels, an older soilder that was most of the time stationed here.
After calming down a little bit, he explained the situation: "Cynwrig here is a common visitor! He always brings all kinds of things to town, including weapons. He got a permit for that."
Cynwrig replied, the same warm smile he had before in his face: "Not to worry. I suppose I might have startled him with my whole appearance. Sorry for getting up your nerves like that, young one."
Without letting me respond, the soldier answered: "Bah, there's no need to apologize, he's just new, he needs to get used to visitors like you, that's all."
He got closer to inspect Cynwrig's luggage. "By the way, what do you bring today?"
Inspecting the things, he reveals some massive charred bones, hanging by one of the mules' side.
"Are these...!?" A surprised look on the guard's face.
"Drakodo knuckle bones, that's right!" Said Cynwrig with a satisfied tone, to which an astonished guard answers: "Don't tell me you killed it!?"
Cynwin bursts a couple of obtuse laughs: "Not really, I was there to see the creature go down though. A great battle to behold! And a good purchase of my part to those slayers! I know I can get a better price from some nobles around here"
Astonished, I couldn't help but grasp at the sight of the bones, just imagining that something the lenght of my arm and the width of my torso was nothing but a knuckle bone to a massive creature was incredible and terryfing!
After some more chatter and stories given by the traveler, we let him go on and enter the city, but not before I apologized to him for my missdemeanour. The towering Caparii looked at me with a smile and with one hand he pulled a small carved stone from his pocket and with the other he pulled a small bronze pendant with a green center and a red ribbon. He swirled a couple circles with the pendant above his open palm holding the stone coin while murmuring some words.
He then happily gave me the stone piece, which had labrated what seemed to be a swimming turtle, and said: "You don't have to apologize to me, young boy! The fact you were so willing to search an uncanny character as myself speaks about how seriously you take your job! And I think you'll be a respected defender of this city in the future to come." And with that, he left.
I was reluctant to believe him at first, I mean, I got this job just because I wanted something stable in my life, but I really just risked it all trying to confront someone I believed was a dangerous criminal who could kill me should he wish it... And I still feel I would do it again! Maybe, this job could really be my calling in life after all...
Minecraft Username: Lemoy_Siul
Age: 24
Country & Timezone: Mexico (UTC -6)
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is to try and close the gap between player knowledge and character knowledge, meaning that the player may make decisions based on their own knowledge, not the one from the character. Powergaming is when a player enacts situations in which their character always ends on top even when the situation is clearly out of their hands; meaning the characters or players always have things go their way without effort. In other words, is to be overpowered.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I am somewhat of a shy person, but I still enjoy to be in company of other people, specially those who like to create and hear stories, and play games, since those are my favorite hobbies. While I'm mostly quiet, I think I have some ease in describing and writing, although my English might not be the best around. I am aiming to become a full time artist at some point, and in fact, I am participating in a comic OCT (Original Character Tournament) called War for Rayuba, in which I have made a couple comics (not that I'm between the best artists, mind you). Right now, I am also studying a course in electric instalation, since being a basic level English teacher is not a very viable career in my city. Between the course, my job, and the OCT I have little time to play, but I'm looking forward to invest some more time on this once the OCT is finished.
Referral: I just looked for a more roleplay focused Minecraft server on the web, so I stumbled upon this server in the results of the search
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Cynwrig
Age: 174
Race: Caparii
Appearance:
A stout Greathorn, built to be a warrior, yet porting a heavily bent posture, dwarfing what would easily be 6 feet of muscle and horn into a still tall but less threatening mass of 5'7. He seems like having a once deep black fur on his legs and head, now turning grayish because of his age. His head is covered in a dirty and thick hair that covers most of his face, only adorned by weathered horns, shiny gray eyes and a hooked nose that protrudes outside of his mane, all topped by a grampa-like smile that stumbles between aimable and scheming. He wears a heavy dark brownish wool cloak so thick it seems to be the responsible for his encurvature overlaying an old but otherwise elegant and exotic orchid vest made of cotton, adorned with golden trims. He wears a leather belt with a golden chiseled buckle with many packs hanging of it, two bronze armlets on his right arm and a stone bracer on his left arm adorned with colorful stones and another bronze ring on his left calf. His horns and hooves are chiseled. He also wears some pieces of old iron armor pieces: a right pauldron over the cloak, a right hand gauntlet and a left tasset hanging from his belt.
As accesories and additional items, he has a broken iron sword, old but elegant in its making, it defenitley looks like it had better days and is at the point of turning into dust any second now. He always has this sword within arm reach but rarely uses it, as it has more of a sentimental value. He also has a strange pendant, made by a bronze halo encroaching a piece of turtle's shell which was labrated into a circlet to fit within the bronze ring, adorned with a red ribbon, marking some kind of holy meaning in the Lenngseah culture.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
I'll work on the skin, but here's some quick concept art I made
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
It was my first day being assigned to the guard post at the gate. I had completed my training and became a town centinel at Queensport, finaly landing the stable job I have been looking for years. Being a guard is usually calm and uneventful, something I really appreciate since I'm not much of a hardworker myself, but there are days when the town is filled with new visitors from both land and sea. The captain moved a whole lot of the garrison to cover the entrances and keep track of the new arrivals, including me, to my disgust. I was asigned with other 13 soldiers to watch and question the newcomers to make sure what were their intentions in the city. Some of these soldiers already knew some of the travelers and chatted with them as old friends, but I found myself not very comfortable when speaking with them. The stories, trinkets and everything else that these people brought were not on my interest. Going adventuring is not something I really find myself invested in. As the time passed I only found myself more and more bored, tired and annoyed, having to make the same tedious routine of asking and looking at the wares over and over again.
That is, until I saw him. A robust figure, covered in a dark coat with bulging horns growing out of a hairy head, bringing with him a pair of pack mules covered in packages. While he looked and moved like any other merchant, I could only see one thing on him: problems. As he aproached, I couldn't help but feel inclined to register this outsider myself. Was it by a sense of duty or sheer curiosity? I don't know, but I didn't want to pass over this guy.
I aproached him and he smiled at me with a seemingly honest and innocent smirk that only made me feel more uncomfortable. Trying to keep some semblance of authority, I asked him: "What are your intentions here?"
Opening his eyes like if he was caught off guard by the question, he replied in a soothing tone: "Excuse me?"
I repeated myself, not wanting to back up a little bit: "I said, what are your intentions here?"
He twitched a little, like if he just realized what the conversation was about: "Oh, my apologies, it's just I'm somewhat used to be greeted before answering questions"
I was not having any of it: "We are skipping formalities today. Now tell me what are your whereabouts."
Still with a semblance of understanding on his face, the man told me: "I see. Well I just came from a long journey, looking to sell some commodities to this city. Some good profit and favors for some friends are in my baggage, and I would like to deliver while preparing for my next trip."
"You take me for a fool!?" I screamed as I was having enough of this farse, and decided to look closer to his "wares".
I was right! There were weapons, potions and all manners of artifacts between all the wares he was obviously using as a facade. I paralized for a moment, I was not ready for this! He could try and kill me in the spot to try and run away! In a flash, I unsheathed my sword and pointed it at him, but in a similar shock to mine he just raised his hands in compliance with an expression of surprise.
Not taking my eyes away from him I shouted at my companions in desperation. "Help! Weapons Smuggler! He's armed to the -"
I got interrupted by a hand falling at my shoulder as a voice resounded right behind me. "By the gods! What do you think you're doing!?"
It was one of the centinels, an older soilder that was most of the time stationed here.
After calming down a little bit, he explained the situation: "Cynwrig here is a common visitor! He always brings all kinds of things to town, including weapons. He got a permit for that."
Cynwrig replied, the same warm smile he had before in his face: "Not to worry. I suppose I might have startled him with my whole appearance. Sorry for getting up your nerves like that, young one."
Without letting me respond, the soldier answered: "Bah, there's no need to apologize, he's just new, he needs to get used to visitors like you, that's all."
He got closer to inspect Cynwrig's luggage. "By the way, what do you bring today?"
Inspecting the things, he reveals some massive charred bones, hanging by one of the mules' side.
"Are these...!?" A surprised look on the guard's face.
"Drakodo knuckle bones, that's right!" Said Cynwrig with a satisfied tone, to which an astonished guard answers: "Don't tell me you killed it!?"
Cynwin bursts a couple of obtuse laughs: "Not really, I was there to see the creature go down though. A great battle to behold! And a good purchase of my part to those slayers! I know I can get a better price from some nobles around here"
Astonished, I couldn't help but grasp at the sight of the bones, just imagining that something the lenght of my arm and the width of my torso was nothing but a knuckle bone to a massive creature was incredible and terryfing!
After some more chatter and stories given by the traveler, we let him go on and enter the city, but not before I apologized to him for my missdemeanour. The towering Caparii looked at me with a smile and with one hand he pulled a small carved stone from his pocket and with the other he pulled a small bronze pendant with a green center and a red ribbon. He swirled a couple circles with the pendant above his open palm holding the stone coin while murmuring some words.
He then happily gave me the stone piece, which had labrated what seemed to be a swimming turtle, and said: "You don't have to apologize to me, young boy! The fact you were so willing to search an uncanny character as myself speaks about how seriously you take your job! And I think you'll be a respected defender of this city in the future to come." And with that, he left.
I was reluctant to believe him at first, I mean, I got this job just because I wanted something stable in my life, but I really just risked it all trying to confront someone I believed was a dangerous criminal who could kill me should he wish it... And I still feel I would do it again! Maybe, this job could really be my calling in life after all...
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