R0B3RUTE
Villager
- Pronouns
- He/Him
| {Introduction Section} Minecraft Username: R0B3RUTE Age: 22 Country & Timezone: United States, EST Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Meta gaming is using unspecified information you have not gleaned from actual roleplay events, to benefit your character within a roleplay context. For example, within a roleplay a person who meta games might know the location of a bandit hideout without actually gaining said information from roleplay means. Power gaming is using the preposition that they as a character can beat anyone through typically unspecified means. Typically asserted to “Main Character Syndrome” it’s mostly seen as the person identifying their character as unbeatable or as the main character within a roleplay context. For example, a roleplayer might attempt to swing his sword at the power gamer and they in turn will always dodge or deflect the hit without repercussions. Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs? No, the server does not allow exploitation of mod packs or texture packs for unfair player personal gain. Tell us about yourself!: My name is Robert, but you’re okay to call me by my characters name or my Minecraft ign. I am a long time role player from my early years in DND and Larping. I picked up Minecraft back in 2015 and quickly developed interest into Minecraft roleplay. My first roleplay was in lotr based servers, which lead to my love of the series and eventual admiration for the Dwarven race. I am a father of a one year old girl, and I also work in private armed security. I also take part in cosplay and I have a couple of marvel related suits. (Dm me on discord @RobertTheGuard#4200 if you’re interested in my designs) Referral: None found you online through PMC, a few of my friends also play here. ________________________________________ {Character Section} Character Name: Elrin Bronzebeard Age: 59 (Young for a dwarf considering most fantasies have them live upwards to 350) Race: Dwarf Appearance: Elrin has steel grey eyes and a main of copper colored hair. Elrin has a complexion of that of most dwarves his age, not too wrinkled but not too young. His beard is respectable in length, beaded with bronze, iron, copper, and silver trinkets. He wears a mixture of Dwarven forged mail and cloth, typical of most Dwarven men of age. His stature is that of a stocky forgemaster, carrying himself with a slight limp due to a forging accident as a child. His boots are of thick leather and metal coverings for metal splash and soot. Elrin always has a layer of grime on his hands from hard work. (Optional) Picture of the Skin: (Don’t have one yet, but until I have one made I’ll use a generic lotr dwarf skin) Written Test (Min: 400 words): Deep in the mountains across deep crevasses of ore, lava, and all manner of beasts of the deep Sat a vast mine. In this mine, many dwarves work their entire lives as foundations to the great history and heritage of the race. Each dwarven man, woman, and child seeking to leave their mark for the next generation. Elrin was born into the Bronzebeard variant of the clan, a family who's namesake is their unique hair. The family was known as great weapon smiths, each generation innovating in some way on how to chop, smash, or pierce a foe. However, as it seems, Young Elrin cannot for the life of him figure out how to bring honor to his ancestors before him. His father, Balrin The Splitspear, was renowned for his innovation of having a spear mechanically split open at the tip enabling massive organ damage. His mother, Falrin The Reflection, was renowned for her innovation in the mirror dagger. The reflection being so good you could blind a creature by pointing it at the sun in its direction. However, Elrin... He still hadn't even decided what weapon he wanted to create or specialize in. He just couldn't decide. His parents brought him various tutors from within the family from everything to swords and maces. Elrin was coming of age to make his mark in the clan, but he could not decide his passion or what he wanted his mark to even be. Nothing caught his interest, but one day while strolling the forges he came across a shiny suit of articulate armor. Its design baffled and amazed him. He looked upon its bronze colored chinked chestplate, its long strutted leg guards sparkling with designs of shiny cogs and pistons. Its bejeweled chestplaye adorned with etchings of dwarven accomplishments. The armor had a strange intruding jewel on its center that, however did not match its other designs. Elrin reached out, gently pressing the jewel to try and make it level to the chest... Upon doing so, the armor began to collapse in on itself until it folded into a more easy to carry form. Loud clanking and hollow whistling coming from every inch of the strange metal mass. He stepped back quickly, obviously surprised by its unique reaction. However, suprisingly, the beautiful life like armor did not do anything that resembled living. It did not breathe, it did not see, it did not taste, it did not feel... It was a mechanical suit of armor devoid of soul. Elrin could see this by the way the mechanics moved, and folded itself back into its proper light armor form. He realized whoever made this creation did it to automatism the process of transporting armor at mass. With a click and a loud pop, the armor went dead silent. He turned to walk away, before the device's creator returned. However, before he could take a single step he slammed right into the very dwarf. "Aye Wat'ch it young'n!", The old gnarled dwarf yelped as he fumbled with his various mechanical parts he was carrying. "Don't ya know to watch where ya step? Fa stones sakes boy, ya grew up in a forge and mine like da rest of us!" Then the old dwarf raised a single grey bushy eyebrow looking past the young dwarf. "Ya touched the armor set did ya? Whatcha think? Marvelous isn't teh?" the old dwarf said eyeing Elrin with intrigue. "Ah, Yeah... Fa sure. I twas look'n at it. Neva seen some'n like it prior. I'h don't think I told ya my name though, I be Elrin BronzeBeard of the Weapons Forger variety." He said with a sigh. The old dwarf smiled dryly and turned slowly around before saying, "T'was a shame, I'd hop'd for a new blood ta take up mah arts. It makes sense doe, Automaton isn't tradition." he sighed. Elrin felt a singular pull in his gut, a feeling he thought he might never feel... He felt ambition and a desire to create. He walked behind the slow moving dwarf and began to speak, "Ay Old Dwarf, Ya never told me ya name." The old dwarf wrinkled his old dirty weathered brow and smiled, "My Name is Forglorn Cragcloak. I be the best armorsmith of this mountain." Elrin stopped whispering the word, each time energy sparking in his mind at the thought of these wonderful mechanical armors. "Aye, I'd want to learn ya craft." He said without further hesitation, Not knowing what hardships it would lead him down in the near future... |
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