Emmaway
Lord of Altera
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
Rosamonde
2. How old are you?
21
3. What country are you from?
Canada
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming would be making decisions as a character with information you obtained out of character, that such a character could not possibly know.
Powergaming would be doing actions that are extreme for your character and unrealistic, such as hitting someone once and them keeling over.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko
8. Tell us about yourself!
Hello! I'm Rosamonde, currently a student in university, and a massive fan of all things fantasy. I play the trumpet, clarinet, and piano - I enjoy a wide variety of music, but by far jazz is my favourite. I am a horrid artist, but I am trying to improve - slowly but surely. I follow politics avidly, as I think it's important to stay informed about the happen-stances going on around you.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
Not really, apologies!
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I was encouraged by a Mapboy_, as he knows that I love fantasy.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Rosamonde
Character Age:
51
Character Race:
Silver Elf
Appearance:
Pale skin tone, a brown dress, green eyes, and almost-auburn hair.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
Rosamonde lifted her tea-cup, ready to take a sip as she read more of the novel she had barely set down in nearly four days. After bringing the cup to her mouth, however, she quickly realized the cup had been empty. Glancing out the window and seeing the twilight, she concluded that it would be too dark to get more, thus she gracefully closed her novel and set it down on the table before her.
She glanced out the window once more, an almost impatient look upon her face. It was clear she was waiting for something, but at this late at night, such a "something" was quite mysterious. She appeared to almost be lost in thought when a light rattle was heard at her door. She quickly snapped out of whatever thought she was in the middle of, and gently lifted her dress as not to drag as she made her way into the other room.
She opened the wooden door with ease; the door was clearly cut slightly too small for the frame, and so moved quite freely. Stood before her was a courier - a young man, looking to be quite busy. He muttered greetings to Rosamonde whilst handing her a small letter, to which Rosamonde looked at with a slight smile. She bid him off a good evening, as it was clear to her that he still had many letters to deliver, even at such a time of day.
She returned to the previous room, so intently focused on the letter before her that she let her dress drag behind her, almost tripping over it as she walked. Bringing a candle over to the letter, she sat down gingerly in her seat, placing the letter on her desk and moving the novel she had been reading aside - the contents of this letter were quite important to her, this much was clear.
As she read through the letter, her smile slowly faded. Clearly not being what she had expected, she let out a slight sigh in the still air. A look fell upon her face - not disappointment, exactly, rather a look of retirement. Clearly whatever this letter was written about had happened before, and she was growing quite tiresome. A friend not repaying a debt, or perhaps a lover who does not visit - it was not clear.
As she folded the letter, the salutation was clear for but a moment - "To my dear Rosa," - it immediately became clear who the letter was written from, her father. Few others called her Rosa, for good reason - she hated the name. Taking a second to regain her composure, Rosamonde blew out the candle on her desk, and started a walk to her bed.
Although sleep would not come to her on that evening, rather Rosamonde would stare upon her ceiling, clearly pondering the question - why?
1. What is your Minecraft username?
Rosamonde
2. How old are you?
21
3. What country are you from?
Canada
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming would be making decisions as a character with information you obtained out of character, that such a character could not possibly know.
Powergaming would be doing actions that are extreme for your character and unrealistic, such as hitting someone once and them keeling over.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Niko
8. Tell us about yourself!
Hello! I'm Rosamonde, currently a student in university, and a massive fan of all things fantasy. I play the trumpet, clarinet, and piano - I enjoy a wide variety of music, but by far jazz is my favourite. I am a horrid artist, but I am trying to improve - slowly but surely. I follow politics avidly, as I think it's important to stay informed about the happen-stances going on around you.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
Not really, apologies!
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I was encouraged by a Mapboy_, as he knows that I love fantasy.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Rosamonde
Character Age:
51
Character Race:
Silver Elf
Appearance:
Pale skin tone, a brown dress, green eyes, and almost-auburn hair.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
Rosamonde lifted her tea-cup, ready to take a sip as she read more of the novel she had barely set down in nearly four days. After bringing the cup to her mouth, however, she quickly realized the cup had been empty. Glancing out the window and seeing the twilight, she concluded that it would be too dark to get more, thus she gracefully closed her novel and set it down on the table before her.
She glanced out the window once more, an almost impatient look upon her face. It was clear she was waiting for something, but at this late at night, such a "something" was quite mysterious. She appeared to almost be lost in thought when a light rattle was heard at her door. She quickly snapped out of whatever thought she was in the middle of, and gently lifted her dress as not to drag as she made her way into the other room.
She opened the wooden door with ease; the door was clearly cut slightly too small for the frame, and so moved quite freely. Stood before her was a courier - a young man, looking to be quite busy. He muttered greetings to Rosamonde whilst handing her a small letter, to which Rosamonde looked at with a slight smile. She bid him off a good evening, as it was clear to her that he still had many letters to deliver, even at such a time of day.
She returned to the previous room, so intently focused on the letter before her that she let her dress drag behind her, almost tripping over it as she walked. Bringing a candle over to the letter, she sat down gingerly in her seat, placing the letter on her desk and moving the novel she had been reading aside - the contents of this letter were quite important to her, this much was clear.
As she read through the letter, her smile slowly faded. Clearly not being what she had expected, she let out a slight sigh in the still air. A look fell upon her face - not disappointment, exactly, rather a look of retirement. Clearly whatever this letter was written about had happened before, and she was growing quite tiresome. A friend not repaying a debt, or perhaps a lover who does not visit - it was not clear.
As she folded the letter, the salutation was clear for but a moment - "To my dear Rosa," - it immediately became clear who the letter was written from, her father. Few others called her Rosa, for good reason - she hated the name. Taking a second to regain her composure, Rosamonde blew out the candle on her desk, and started a walk to her bed.
Although sleep would not come to her on that evening, rather Rosamonde would stare upon her ceiling, clearly pondering the question - why?
