RaeshiSeeks
I think I might like it here
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Minecraft Username: Salodree
Age: 23
Country & Timezone: CST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming: Using knowledge known by the player and not the character to make decisions or rp with, potentially breaking the immersion of ongoing rp's. Responding to thoughts, background info, etc. all counts towards this. Powergaming: Removing agency from others in any given scene, deciding the outcome of an action without allowing others to have input in how their own character responds or even has a chance to react as would be natural. Can really frustrate the ppl you're rping with. Both can bleed into each other in unpleasant manners. They should be avoided to keep more open and creative rp opportunities available.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hello! I'm Salo/Sparrow to most, I've been an avid rper since I was still in the single digits starting with a home game of D&D. I've explored many different mediums for role play, from forum posts to in person interactions, to dice to pure improv. I'm absolutely a nerd and am prone to conspiracy theories about ongoing plots and such-Various DM's have told me that they love this about me! Various parties have told me to please stop giving them ideas to throw at us as well...
Referral: I went searching for a place to place blocks and rp in a fantasy setting!
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Hiedric Branáin
Age: 18
Race: Kaltic Human
Appearance: Fair and freckled with sea glass green eyes and wavy locks of dark auburn hair kept begrudgingly tamed into a short tail at the base of his skull. Tall and coltish in proportions, usually wearing simple work leathers and linens-Or a softer blue or green dyed woolen tunic on rest days. Thick woolen mitts, sturdy leather boots of good make, numerous scarves of all kinds for various patterns and make for different weather. Occasionally braids clasps and beads of wood into his hair, as that's what's available to him at the moment.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
The winters in Queensport were long and frigid, dark days and darker nights broken up by the ever kept hearth flames by it's residents and the ever protective flare of watchtowers. Hiedric was born in the heart of winter, the Winterfeasts longest stretch of darkness ending just as the newest Branáin was welcomed into the world by his Granny who, being a midwife with six children and now thirteen grandchildren of her own was an old hand at the craft!
The whole family was gathered in the to small winter home till the first breath of spring blessed the land once more and they scattered like seeds from a wishing flower in the wind. Somber as these cold month could turn the Kalts, not a single Branáin was without cheer that bubbled up with merry congratulations to Hiedric's very wide eyed father and his tired and *very* smug mother.
Borne into the dark months amidst good cheer and warmth, an omen for how Hiedric himself would find the world later in life.
Wood, Wool and Winter were the three things that stood out the strongest in his life. The sound of the carving knives and sanding grit being put to good work by his otherwise quiet father, the gentle hum and chatter of his mother in her weaving circles as words and wool both were passed between those present. And winter, when the Branáin clan would return home like birds turning south when the first kiss of frost pressed against the prairies, bringing a sense of chaos only family could while they all nestled themselves poorly in the still to small abode. Not that Hiedric minded truly, he loved the warmth his family brought with them! His cousins with tales of the woods and fields and the adventures to be had there, the taste of fresh herbs that couldn't be kept in the city in their breads and stews. The smell of the wild sea mingling with the rich scent of earth and growing things, all slowly fading under the sharp bite of frost.
Winter brought the rest of the world as he knew it to his doorstep and Hiedric reveled in that.
It wasn't quite...lonely, in those off months, when his family scattered with the warmer winds to work the earth or wrestle the sea for it's bounty. But it wasn't far off from that feeling at times either. Learning the basics of his parent's crafts filled his days with enough busy work that he rarely had the time to dwell on such things. Often though, he found himself taking smaller works he'd been set on to the Assemblies and soaking in the presence and sound of Important Persons whilst he whittled or embroidered. Talk of a world outside of even the one his family brought to his door could be heard there, Important Persons hemming and hawing over silly things or turning to steel and cinders whenever certain topics were brought up.
It was at those Assemblies that Hiedric had an interesting thought of his own. Hearing of strange, far off lands with their own histories, with rich culture-Derided or praised they may be by his kinsmen, what were the rich and bone deep bits of their own culture? Tapestries and statues aplenty were present in the halls of the Assemblies, telling tales related more to the Anhalder and the time after becoming tethered to them than anything solely their own.
It saddened him a touch. There seemed to only be scattered remnants of what the Kalts could have once offered to show off to the world as a badge of who they were in the past. A clear, bloody line in history where they were remade in another's image.
But there wasn't much to be done to reclaim the past, nor were the present times overly unpleasant due to their conquerors. Not to Hiedric at least. He had more to fear the howling oceans and long, unforgiving winters than he did the distant Anhalder or what bits of their culture his kinsmen had cleaved to.
Hells, he had to fear not being able to grow a beard more than he did the Anhalder!
So he kept his peace, dreaming little flights of fancy of what the past could have been like and making them just a touch real with Wool and Wood, waiting for Winter to bring his family and the World to his doorstep again.
Age: 23
Country & Timezone: CST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming: Using knowledge known by the player and not the character to make decisions or rp with, potentially breaking the immersion of ongoing rp's. Responding to thoughts, background info, etc. all counts towards this. Powergaming: Removing agency from others in any given scene, deciding the outcome of an action without allowing others to have input in how their own character responds or even has a chance to react as would be natural. Can really frustrate the ppl you're rping with. Both can bleed into each other in unpleasant manners. They should be avoided to keep more open and creative rp opportunities available.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hello! I'm Salo/Sparrow to most, I've been an avid rper since I was still in the single digits starting with a home game of D&D. I've explored many different mediums for role play, from forum posts to in person interactions, to dice to pure improv. I'm absolutely a nerd and am prone to conspiracy theories about ongoing plots and such-Various DM's have told me that they love this about me! Various parties have told me to please stop giving them ideas to throw at us as well...
Referral: I went searching for a place to place blocks and rp in a fantasy setting!
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Hiedric Branáin
Age: 18
Race: Kaltic Human
Appearance: Fair and freckled with sea glass green eyes and wavy locks of dark auburn hair kept begrudgingly tamed into a short tail at the base of his skull. Tall and coltish in proportions, usually wearing simple work leathers and linens-Or a softer blue or green dyed woolen tunic on rest days. Thick woolen mitts, sturdy leather boots of good make, numerous scarves of all kinds for various patterns and make for different weather. Occasionally braids clasps and beads of wood into his hair, as that's what's available to him at the moment.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words):
The winters in Queensport were long and frigid, dark days and darker nights broken up by the ever kept hearth flames by it's residents and the ever protective flare of watchtowers. Hiedric was born in the heart of winter, the Winterfeasts longest stretch of darkness ending just as the newest Branáin was welcomed into the world by his Granny who, being a midwife with six children and now thirteen grandchildren of her own was an old hand at the craft!
The whole family was gathered in the to small winter home till the first breath of spring blessed the land once more and they scattered like seeds from a wishing flower in the wind. Somber as these cold month could turn the Kalts, not a single Branáin was without cheer that bubbled up with merry congratulations to Hiedric's very wide eyed father and his tired and *very* smug mother.
Borne into the dark months amidst good cheer and warmth, an omen for how Hiedric himself would find the world later in life.
Wood, Wool and Winter were the three things that stood out the strongest in his life. The sound of the carving knives and sanding grit being put to good work by his otherwise quiet father, the gentle hum and chatter of his mother in her weaving circles as words and wool both were passed between those present. And winter, when the Branáin clan would return home like birds turning south when the first kiss of frost pressed against the prairies, bringing a sense of chaos only family could while they all nestled themselves poorly in the still to small abode. Not that Hiedric minded truly, he loved the warmth his family brought with them! His cousins with tales of the woods and fields and the adventures to be had there, the taste of fresh herbs that couldn't be kept in the city in their breads and stews. The smell of the wild sea mingling with the rich scent of earth and growing things, all slowly fading under the sharp bite of frost.
Winter brought the rest of the world as he knew it to his doorstep and Hiedric reveled in that.
It wasn't quite...lonely, in those off months, when his family scattered with the warmer winds to work the earth or wrestle the sea for it's bounty. But it wasn't far off from that feeling at times either. Learning the basics of his parent's crafts filled his days with enough busy work that he rarely had the time to dwell on such things. Often though, he found himself taking smaller works he'd been set on to the Assemblies and soaking in the presence and sound of Important Persons whilst he whittled or embroidered. Talk of a world outside of even the one his family brought to his door could be heard there, Important Persons hemming and hawing over silly things or turning to steel and cinders whenever certain topics were brought up.
It was at those Assemblies that Hiedric had an interesting thought of his own. Hearing of strange, far off lands with their own histories, with rich culture-Derided or praised they may be by his kinsmen, what were the rich and bone deep bits of their own culture? Tapestries and statues aplenty were present in the halls of the Assemblies, telling tales related more to the Anhalder and the time after becoming tethered to them than anything solely their own.
It saddened him a touch. There seemed to only be scattered remnants of what the Kalts could have once offered to show off to the world as a badge of who they were in the past. A clear, bloody line in history where they were remade in another's image.
But there wasn't much to be done to reclaim the past, nor were the present times overly unpleasant due to their conquerors. Not to Hiedric at least. He had more to fear the howling oceans and long, unforgiving winters than he did the distant Anhalder or what bits of their culture his kinsmen had cleaved to.
Hells, he had to fear not being able to grow a beard more than he did the Anhalder!
So he kept his peace, dreaming little flights of fancy of what the past could have been like and making them just a touch real with Wool and Wood, waiting for Winter to bring his family and the World to his doorstep again.
