OOC
Minecraft Username: jaubc
Are you at least 18 years old?: I'm turning 25 this month (put me in the grave)
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes!
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Misttixx
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: Misttixx (:
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Hihihihihihihihihi, I'm jaubc (pronounced how ever you want (; ) I like rp and doing GM stuff when I can (: I just want to do medical rp, why must everyone rely on magic, let me stitch you up and put weird smell herbs on you.
Is that to much to ask?
—
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)?
Salatz blinks again his eyes watering slightly, he lets out a breath he didn't fully realize he'd been holding in. Salatz was typically a cold person, physically of course, he wrings his hands trying to warm the digits. Even though the weather was much better than the bitter cold of his youth in Korami, it didn't help he hadn't eaten in a few days. Hunger wasn't a stranger to him, winters were hard and coming from a small clan that valued strength more than intellect meant he went without more than with.
His hands... They were callused and worn. Unlike most of his siblings he had kept all of his fingers, though they were still just as scarred. The most recent he'd wrapped well, the boat ride over had made him dreadfully ill and his steady hands had given way and while mending a sail between the Mist Isles and the Reach, he'd accidentally stitched his pointer to the main mast. He looks over to the woman and nods a bit Shakily, the bouncing of the wagon bobbing his head more than he'd want it to.
"Yeah.. Sort of. My uhm, grandmother was from Aedall, so I thought I'd try and head to an... ancestral home so to speak. Get away from the winters in Korami and the uhh, proving grounds so to speak. Can't expect to have a fulfilling life swinging a sword around and dealing with arrow wounds and amputations all your life."
The elven man chuckles, cutting himself off realizing his own statement.
"Not that that's all I do, of course..."
Salatz chuckles weakly, his breath faltering as he looks back to the wagons floor. Reaching into one of the many pockets of his winter jacket, he'd pull out a small mint leaf and jam it in his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he straightens himself out looking once more to the woman and jutting out a hand with bandaged fingers.
"Oh right, how rude of me. I'm Salatz by the way, doctor by trade. You uhh, wouldn't happen to have any food you're willing to part with would you?"
—
Character Name: Salatz Altan
Character Race: Arsa Sidhe
Character Age: 32
Brief Physical Description: A spindly elven man with blunted ears, curly brown hair, and tan skin. He wears a thick over coat that hides his thin nature, its pockets are often stuffed with medicinal herbs and bandages. Though his green eyes constantly seem tired with heavy bags beneath them, he always has a cheerful demeanor and tries to make time for all he can. When times are tough he smells of smoke...
