Antimarksman
Villager
Minecraft Username: Antimarksman
Age: 25
Country & Timezone: Canada
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Using outside or otherwise unknown knowledge and experience to influence your characters thoughts actions or decisions in the RP environment. Forcefully describing an action against or with another player that would usually require them to partake or play along.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hi, I'm Pat. I read all kinds of fantasy media and love historical fantasy. I enjoy creative writing, especially High fantasy shorts. I spent the last few years running my own D&D 5E campaign I wrote myself. I love to delve into player created lore and help shape that lore by immersing myself deeply in the community surrounding it.
Referral: Google'd RP Medieval MC Servers.
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{Character Section}
Character Name: Croaker
Age: 28
Race: Human
Appearance: Croaker is an unassuming man, pale skin a testament to his Kaltic heritage. Light green eyes would mark him of noble birth, but a rough spun wool tunic and the weathered pigskin leather boots speak for themselves. The only testament to any wealth is the wolf pelt cloak draping his wideset shoulders. The only remarkable feature is his fair hair, noticeably odd for a northmen.
Written Test (Min: 400 words): -The book of Croaker. Volume one. Chapter one. A life on the road. If someone asked you what drove the second son of a noblemen to leave Queensport and wander the continent, you would most likely draw a conclusion akin to riches or fame. I am Croaker a man of noble birth and no taste for nobility, or the politics and bootlicking involved. Croaker is only a moniker, safer to use an assumed identity while travelling alone. I keep these journals in hopes that one day I'll pass my knowledge to kin or possibly an apprentice, if I succeed in my goals. I haven't much in the way of worldly experience, my brother being the firstborn son was always hitched to my father in his travels. I didn't mind that though, as I preferred the library and the apocathery to courts and hunts. The few times I was brought along father taught me just enough not to starve or freeze outside the city walls. I was well cared for at my fathers estate but my thirst for knowledge is what drove me to the road. I studied under father's physician to learn healing herbs and some barbering, but his skills are limited and with the crows feet growing deeper set on his eyes and joints creaking like a rusted hinge, his patience for teaching had worn thin. My eyes are set south to new lands and new opportunity. Find a teacher to guide me in alchemy. The thought of my departed sister strengthens my resolve on the cold nights in my bedroll. When the fever took her mother wept for weeks, and never truly recovered. I set out on this journey to bolster my skills as a physician. The tomes in fathers library speak of elven healing that borders on the arcane. Mother would consider it blasphemy but I'm sure if it would have saved my sister she would have let the fae folk dance on the tips of her toes and let imps nibble on her ears. Some of the writing are just stories for tucking young berns into bed, however after reading enough of them I'm sure there's some truth to them, just as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. This is just the beginning dear reader, I will continue to chronicle my journey across Altera and possibly beyond. These journals are the legacy of a second son, a tale not yet written.
Age: 25
Country & Timezone: Canada
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Using outside or otherwise unknown knowledge and experience to influence your characters thoughts actions or decisions in the RP environment. Forcefully describing an action against or with another player that would usually require them to partake or play along.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hi, I'm Pat. I read all kinds of fantasy media and love historical fantasy. I enjoy creative writing, especially High fantasy shorts. I spent the last few years running my own D&D 5E campaign I wrote myself. I love to delve into player created lore and help shape that lore by immersing myself deeply in the community surrounding it.
Referral: Google'd RP Medieval MC Servers.
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Croaker
Age: 28
Race: Human
Appearance: Croaker is an unassuming man, pale skin a testament to his Kaltic heritage. Light green eyes would mark him of noble birth, but a rough spun wool tunic and the weathered pigskin leather boots speak for themselves. The only testament to any wealth is the wolf pelt cloak draping his wideset shoulders. The only remarkable feature is his fair hair, noticeably odd for a northmen.
Written Test (Min: 400 words): -The book of Croaker. Volume one. Chapter one. A life on the road. If someone asked you what drove the second son of a noblemen to leave Queensport and wander the continent, you would most likely draw a conclusion akin to riches or fame. I am Croaker a man of noble birth and no taste for nobility, or the politics and bootlicking involved. Croaker is only a moniker, safer to use an assumed identity while travelling alone. I keep these journals in hopes that one day I'll pass my knowledge to kin or possibly an apprentice, if I succeed in my goals. I haven't much in the way of worldly experience, my brother being the firstborn son was always hitched to my father in his travels. I didn't mind that though, as I preferred the library and the apocathery to courts and hunts. The few times I was brought along father taught me just enough not to starve or freeze outside the city walls. I was well cared for at my fathers estate but my thirst for knowledge is what drove me to the road. I studied under father's physician to learn healing herbs and some barbering, but his skills are limited and with the crows feet growing deeper set on his eyes and joints creaking like a rusted hinge, his patience for teaching had worn thin. My eyes are set south to new lands and new opportunity. Find a teacher to guide me in alchemy. The thought of my departed sister strengthens my resolve on the cold nights in my bedroll. When the fever took her mother wept for weeks, and never truly recovered. I set out on this journey to bolster my skills as a physician. The tomes in fathers library speak of elven healing that borders on the arcane. Mother would consider it blasphemy but I'm sure if it would have saved my sister she would have let the fae folk dance on the tips of her toes and let imps nibble on her ears. Some of the writing are just stories for tucking young berns into bed, however after reading enough of them I'm sure there's some truth to them, just as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. This is just the beginning dear reader, I will continue to chronicle my journey across Altera and possibly beyond. These journals are the legacy of a second son, a tale not yet written.
