Sir Saltington
Lord of Altera
1. What is your Minecraft username?
Sir_Saltington
2. How old are you?
18
3. What country are you from?
United States of America
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
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!
I roleplayed here about a year ago. Since I’ve been dewhitelisted due to inactivity, I’m filling out this application to return. I enjoy reading and sometimes I’ll write. Most of the time I’ll be playing some kind of video game. Also I’ve been roleplaying for about six years now.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I’m alright, thank you.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I’ve been here before.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Hamon Creek
Character Age:
23.
Character Race:
Human.
Appearance:
Hamon stands at a height of 5 feet 11 inches and is well built from his days in the fields. His brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin makes him come off as an average farmer. He wears what you’d expect from a peasant with the exception being a pair of fine, black leather boots.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
N/A
Written Test!
The sun was low in the sky as Hamon reached the town. With a relieved sigh he entered the town, looking for the local tavern. As he went the people around him were finishing up their daily deeds, trying to get as much as they could done before the sun went down. No one paid him any attention as he walked down the street and entered the tavern.
Inside the building was a dimly lit room with rough wood benches and tables. Accompanying the ascentetics were the scent of sweat and ale ingrained into the place. Behind the bar was a balding man who looked to be in his forties, his gut hanging over his belt. In his hands was an old mug that he was cleaning.
“Hello there stranger, can I get you anything?” The bartender asked, placing the mug down on the bar.
Hamon glanced around the room as he approached. No one was here, but with the sun setting soon the tavern was bound to see some more faces. “Happen to have any work?” He asked.
“Can’t say that I do,” the bartender said, “but some of the boys might need another hand in the fields. Though I can offer you an ale to nurse while you wait.” He reached underneath the bar and placed a bottle right next to the mug.
Hamon gave a slight nod. “That’d be much appreciated. How much?”
“Five a mug.” The bartender said as he opened the bottle and filled up the mug.
Hamon proceeded to reach into a pouch tied to his belt and place five coins on the counter. “Thanks.” he said, picking up the mug and walking toward the back of the room.
By the time someone approached him, the top of the sun was barely visible over the horizon and the tavern was filled with men fresh from the fields. Hamon had finished his mug of ale and was waiting for everyone to be settled in with a couple drinks when a burly man sat down across from him. “So stranger, you got a name?”
“Hamon, how about you?”
“George. What brings you to our village Hamon?” The man said, taking a drink from his mug.
“Work, been a farmer all my life.” Hamon said. “Know anyone looking for an extra hand?”
“Aye,” George said “I could. My son married some girl a village over, so it’s just me looking after my fields now. With me growing old, I can’t get all the work done on my own like I used to.”
Hamon glanced around, and though the bartender was looking in their direction nothing seemed to be off. “Alright, let’s negotiate. What are you offering?”
Sir_Saltington
2. How old are you?
18
3. What country are you from?
United States of America
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
- Powergaming: Performing actions outside what is logical for your character to be able to do. Also forcing actions onto others without giving them room to respond to said action. Eg. “George burst through the wooden wall unscathed.” or “Alexander grabs Robert and slams him into the ground, pinning him down completely.”
- Metagaming: Using information from out of character that wouldn’t make sense for you to know. Eg. Steve knows about the secret passage in the library because he heard about it in the discord.
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!
I roleplayed here about a year ago. Since I’ve been dewhitelisted due to inactivity, I’m filling out this application to return. I enjoy reading and sometimes I’ll write. Most of the time I’ll be playing some kind of video game. Also I’ve been roleplaying for about six years now.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
I’m alright, thank you.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I’ve been here before.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Hamon Creek
Character Age:
23.
Character Race:
Human.
Appearance:
Hamon stands at a height of 5 feet 11 inches and is well built from his days in the fields. His brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin makes him come off as an average farmer. He wears what you’d expect from a peasant with the exception being a pair of fine, black leather boots.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
N/A
Written Test!
The sun was low in the sky as Hamon reached the town. With a relieved sigh he entered the town, looking for the local tavern. As he went the people around him were finishing up their daily deeds, trying to get as much as they could done before the sun went down. No one paid him any attention as he walked down the street and entered the tavern.
Inside the building was a dimly lit room with rough wood benches and tables. Accompanying the ascentetics were the scent of sweat and ale ingrained into the place. Behind the bar was a balding man who looked to be in his forties, his gut hanging over his belt. In his hands was an old mug that he was cleaning.
“Hello there stranger, can I get you anything?” The bartender asked, placing the mug down on the bar.
Hamon glanced around the room as he approached. No one was here, but with the sun setting soon the tavern was bound to see some more faces. “Happen to have any work?” He asked.
“Can’t say that I do,” the bartender said, “but some of the boys might need another hand in the fields. Though I can offer you an ale to nurse while you wait.” He reached underneath the bar and placed a bottle right next to the mug.
Hamon gave a slight nod. “That’d be much appreciated. How much?”
“Five a mug.” The bartender said as he opened the bottle and filled up the mug.
Hamon proceeded to reach into a pouch tied to his belt and place five coins on the counter. “Thanks.” he said, picking up the mug and walking toward the back of the room.
By the time someone approached him, the top of the sun was barely visible over the horizon and the tavern was filled with men fresh from the fields. Hamon had finished his mug of ale and was waiting for everyone to be settled in with a couple drinks when a burly man sat down across from him. “So stranger, you got a name?”
“Hamon, how about you?”
“George. What brings you to our village Hamon?” The man said, taking a drink from his mug.
“Work, been a farmer all my life.” Hamon said. “Know anyone looking for an extra hand?”
“Aye,” George said “I could. My son married some girl a village over, so it’s just me looking after my fields now. With me growing old, I can’t get all the work done on my own like I used to.”
Hamon glanced around, and though the bartender was looking in their direction nothing seemed to be off. “Alright, let’s negotiate. What are you offering?”
