OOC
Minecraft Username: Grug_TheTerrible
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Googled Minecraft roleplay servers
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: No.
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): I am Grug. I have been rping for several years throughout several different mediums but it has been a while since I've touched Minecraft roleplay. I'm excited to get involved here!
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond (in character)? (250 word minimum - please make sure to include at least three references to our lore in your response, with two coming from different pages in the Compendium. Two of the three selected should also be in-depth, avoid simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?)
Response:
Brown eyes widen as Philip is caught by surprise at the fact he was so easily read, and a smile forms on his face as the old woman's understanding becomes clear. Resting against the side of the wagon, it takes the young man some time to come up with a response. It's a fair question, and he isn't exactly sure how to articulate himself. Philip opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates, an uneasiness in his heart. An unsureness. That anxiety, always rising up within him. Letting out a cool exhale and dropping his shoulders to relax, Philip glances at the woman, smiling kindly again at her.
"I am a wanderer..." He begins. The soft, raspy voice escaping from between his lips. "...just a man making his way through the continent in a desperate attempt to find something. Be someone...because nobody has ever guided me. My mother always doted on my younger brother, said he had the chance to become some rich merchant...father always thought she was getting too influenced by the Valks we leaved near. Rich people them, always looking for the opportunity to acquire more coin."
The shadow of a smile leaves his lips as his gaze falters and he looks down at the wagon, idly running a finger across the wood, occupying his mind for a moment. Steady yourself, he thinks. Father and mother wanted a strong boy, not an emotional one. Shrugging and gazing at their surroundings. The Valkyians were always strange. His family lived close-enough to them to come into constant contact, and despite years upon years of meeting new and old, him nor his father could ever understand the idea of so many of them obsessing over the concept of chivalry and honor. So many knights had come across his home, needlessly questioning the family and trying to find a reason- any reason -to do as they'd like with them. Walljacks had always disliked kings and knights, for hundreds of years, or so his father would say. It's like it was infused into his very bloodline, and these things only made the resentment build more. But still, mother always wanted to be like them. Maybe it was for their protection. Maybe. Every time he thinks about it though, his mind become shrouded with such anger. Unfit for a Jack. Supposed to be cunning. But Philip is just stupid...
"...I didn't want to go, but after my father died and by mother kept trying to move us into the Duchy of Rulan I had enough and just...fled. I ran away as far as possible. Haha...word spread fast and nobody wanted to take me into their groups, said I was untrustworthy. So I just wander alone."
He falls quiet for a moment that seems to last forever. Will admitting this mean they will kick him off of the wagon? Does he have to go by himself? Will over Walljacks or even Valkyians attack him for who he is? His mind feels like a destructive whirlpool, dragging him into the depths of his own paranoia. But, with the shake of his head, he clears it all away, at least for a little.
"I guess I'm here for a new start. There are a lot of places that feel like they could use a sellsword or a soldier. I hear the Spire's got a militia! Run by the people, they've got the council letting it happen...and after hearing about something called the...Battle of the Garden Pass I think they might need new soldiers? I don't doubt they need the help, what with that big thing in the sky. I guess I'm also here to see what I can learn, but that's secondary. I just...don't really know. I'm here because I ended up here and I'm just saying whatever comes to mind."
Philip shrugs one final time before standing up and jumping off the wagon.
"I always have to find my own path. Maybe I'll see you again...Fo' Stone'za then, friend."
And off the wanderer walks, disappearing into the distance, making his own way in the world. The rest of the Southern Reach is at his fingertips, an entire expansive region ready for him to venture through. Rolling hills and deep blue skies before him, paths to the Spire where the great mystery of it all calls, paths to the north where the Valkyians are. So many choices, so many choices. He really should try finding that woman again, when he finally gets an answer he is happy with.
Character Name: Philip Forze
Character Race: Human
Character Age: 20
Brief Physical Description: An ordinary-looking young man, Philip stands at an unimposing 5'9". Wrapped in a tattered and ancient beige cloak that partially covers black armor. Brown hair matches his tired eyes. He's a lean fellow, hiding muscle underneath this facade of a small, weak man. He constantly looks dirty, from all the traveling he has been doing.
