sokkenpop
Lord of Altera
Hi there everyone, Im coming back, so i guess ill have to fill this in once more.
About you
1) What is your MINECRAFT username?
Sokkenpop
2) How old are you?
20 years old and counting ;-)
3) Where are you?
I'm proud to be a Dutchman (in the non-racist way
)
4) Have you read our guides yet?
Yep-pard-dee-doo
5) Introduce yourself!
Im Stefan, and I have been playing on this server for quite some time now. due to personal issues, I have been forced to quit. A lot has changed, and I have not been online for years. It is good to see that some people still know me though. I am an outgoing person who enjoys creativity, originallity and general kindness. In my spare time I enjoy playing the (tenor)sax and I give sailing lessons to children 12-18
6) Got any examples of your work?
I guess the best example would be my town i used to work on in one of the older builds of the server
LINK: CLICK
7) Did you explore our world prior to your application?
Yes i did, briefly though, couldnt wait to get started again, great job on the starting town though!
----
About your character
Name:
Sokkenpop, no other, often abbreviated as Sok or Sokken
Age:
about 25 years old
Race:
nobody knows for sure, since he always travels hooded and cloaked. He is suspected to be human or elflike
Appearance:
see avatar/signature
---
The test
He was free, he finally was free. Three months it had been since he last smelt the fresh air. How glorious fresh air could smell compared to three months of rats and the smell of his own chamberpot. Although the piece of cloth still stuck to his face and his hands were still bound, Wyk enjoyed the ability to breathe without feeling the need to retch all the time. "He had been sniffing around the lord's garden, picking some of the lord's turnips." They had said. Nobody had made any objection, so he had been forced to sniff on rat droppings and the smell of blood, fear and death down the great dungeons of Elm's Keep. Three months later nothing had remained of the once-so-proud Wyk. Wyk had been a smiths 'prentice before he got caught. He wanted to become a master armourer one day. He could still picturing himself hammering beautiful curves and edges in the helms the knights used to love buying... His daydreaming was brusquely interrupted by some growing noise.
He could hear shouts and screams of the crowd as he felt the sunlight brush his cheeks. The feeling made him believe he had stepped out of the dungeons and onto some square. He shuddered when he was dragged onto something made of wood, some kind of stage. Something felt suspicious...
When they took off the blindfold, fear struck as suddenly as lightning bolt. He was on the market square, in the middle of a crowd, and on the balcony sat Lord Elmstruck, in his ornate wooden chair, decorated with ruby and onyx leaves, the top wrought upward in to a giant elm tree. He sat there, with eyes of a deep purple the way amethysts could shine. The mob could be heard shouting "Away with his 'ead" and "Death! Kill him!" The Lord stood up abruptly.
"People of Elm's Keep. I hereby present you, the traitor, Wyk, the smiths apprentice. He has been accused of treason by stealing your food. This was your food. Now he must be punished accordingly, what say you?".
The mob became a turmoil of sounds, until the lord screeched "Silence! I have heard your voices and your prayers. As he plucked our turnips, now his head shall be plucked by justice."
The headsman came forward, a rather tall man, all hooded and cloaked in dirty, muddy garments of something what once could have been blue or grey. He wielded a giant two-handed axe in his left hand as it was a feather. Wyk was placed onto a chopping block as the headsman sharpened his axe. Something felt wrong. Really wrong. Wyk was drunk with fear and could no longer pay attention to what was happening around him. The Lord made a gesture, and in the corner of his eye Wyk saw the axe coming down. He was going to die.
As the axe was on its highest point, the headman threw it aside, and whistled loudly. The crowd parted to let other hooded and cloacked men trough. They were ahorse. The last thing Wyk remembered, was that he had been thrown upon one horse like a sack of apples. He lost consciousness shortly after.
When he woke, the headsman was the only one that remained. He was seated in a log in the middle of some field.
"What happened?" grunted Wyk. He could see the hood and cloak of the headsman had been exchanged for one so white it almost blinded his eyes. The headman looked more like some cleric or priest in his white cloak. Wyk looked closely and saw his cloak was trimmed purple, as was his half-mask. his eyes shone a bright red, like highly polished rubies.
"What happened?" he asked once more. The priest said nothing, gave him an apple, and walked away slowly. Wyk took a bite of the apple, and lost consciousness shortly after again.
Hours later, Wyk waked again.
He was free, he finally was free.
NOTE: the story was a bit of side-lore to Sokkenpop the priest, as a character
About you
1) What is your MINECRAFT username?
Sokkenpop
2) How old are you?
20 years old and counting ;-)
3) Where are you?
I'm proud to be a Dutchman (in the non-racist way
)4) Have you read our guides yet?
Yep-pard-dee-doo
5) Introduce yourself!
Im Stefan, and I have been playing on this server for quite some time now. due to personal issues, I have been forced to quit. A lot has changed, and I have not been online for years. It is good to see that some people still know me though. I am an outgoing person who enjoys creativity, originallity and general kindness. In my spare time I enjoy playing the (tenor)sax and I give sailing lessons to children 12-18
6) Got any examples of your work?
I guess the best example would be my town i used to work on in one of the older builds of the server
LINK: CLICK
7) Did you explore our world prior to your application?
Yes i did, briefly though, couldnt wait to get started again, great job on the starting town though!
----
About your character
Name:
Sokkenpop, no other, often abbreviated as Sok or Sokken
Age:
about 25 years old
Race:
nobody knows for sure, since he always travels hooded and cloaked. He is suspected to be human or elflike
Appearance:
see avatar/signature
---
The test
He was free, he finally was free. Three months it had been since he last smelt the fresh air. How glorious fresh air could smell compared to three months of rats and the smell of his own chamberpot. Although the piece of cloth still stuck to his face and his hands were still bound, Wyk enjoyed the ability to breathe without feeling the need to retch all the time. "He had been sniffing around the lord's garden, picking some of the lord's turnips." They had said. Nobody had made any objection, so he had been forced to sniff on rat droppings and the smell of blood, fear and death down the great dungeons of Elm's Keep. Three months later nothing had remained of the once-so-proud Wyk. Wyk had been a smiths 'prentice before he got caught. He wanted to become a master armourer one day. He could still picturing himself hammering beautiful curves and edges in the helms the knights used to love buying... His daydreaming was brusquely interrupted by some growing noise.
He could hear shouts and screams of the crowd as he felt the sunlight brush his cheeks. The feeling made him believe he had stepped out of the dungeons and onto some square. He shuddered when he was dragged onto something made of wood, some kind of stage. Something felt suspicious...
When they took off the blindfold, fear struck as suddenly as lightning bolt. He was on the market square, in the middle of a crowd, and on the balcony sat Lord Elmstruck, in his ornate wooden chair, decorated with ruby and onyx leaves, the top wrought upward in to a giant elm tree. He sat there, with eyes of a deep purple the way amethysts could shine. The mob could be heard shouting "Away with his 'ead" and "Death! Kill him!" The Lord stood up abruptly.
"People of Elm's Keep. I hereby present you, the traitor, Wyk, the smiths apprentice. He has been accused of treason by stealing your food. This was your food. Now he must be punished accordingly, what say you?".
The mob became a turmoil of sounds, until the lord screeched "Silence! I have heard your voices and your prayers. As he plucked our turnips, now his head shall be plucked by justice."
The headsman came forward, a rather tall man, all hooded and cloaked in dirty, muddy garments of something what once could have been blue or grey. He wielded a giant two-handed axe in his left hand as it was a feather. Wyk was placed onto a chopping block as the headsman sharpened his axe. Something felt wrong. Really wrong. Wyk was drunk with fear and could no longer pay attention to what was happening around him. The Lord made a gesture, and in the corner of his eye Wyk saw the axe coming down. He was going to die.
As the axe was on its highest point, the headman threw it aside, and whistled loudly. The crowd parted to let other hooded and cloacked men trough. They were ahorse. The last thing Wyk remembered, was that he had been thrown upon one horse like a sack of apples. He lost consciousness shortly after.
When he woke, the headsman was the only one that remained. He was seated in a log in the middle of some field.
"What happened?" grunted Wyk. He could see the hood and cloak of the headsman had been exchanged for one so white it almost blinded his eyes. The headman looked more like some cleric or priest in his white cloak. Wyk looked closely and saw his cloak was trimmed purple, as was his half-mask. his eyes shone a bright red, like highly polished rubies.
"What happened?" he asked once more. The priest said nothing, gave him an apple, and walked away slowly. Wyk took a bite of the apple, and lost consciousness shortly after again.
Hours later, Wyk waked again.
He was free, he finally was free.
NOTE: the story was a bit of side-lore to Sokkenpop the priest, as a character
Last edited:
We found through a long method of testing that players have a much lower chance of breaking rules with that specific copy/paste'd message xD