OOC
Minecraft Username: emiTYgreenS
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yeah sure
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: I was told by a boy who ain't quite right
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: SomeSanity
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): I've been seriously writing for about a year. I'm hoping that this server will help me improve further.
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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)?
A frown pervaded 'cross the man's already dull features. Silence for a beat too long, then a slow, methodical shift of hands to pockets. "I come in search of assumed wealth." He spoke with tone even as a cheese-string: even normal syllable stress was understated and hard to recognize. A few beats pass, the man's eyes darting over the aged woman. Particular scrutiny is given to visage, gaze centered and unblinking for longer than is polite.
"I am... a Valkan?" Eyes squinted, assessing belief. "Yes, Valkan," he nodded. "I felt it would benefit myself and the folks I work with to, ah, relocate. The spring festival's just passed, and with it, our business. Ah, but don't get any ideas to ask me of our wares; I am but a... merchant speculator."
The supposed Valkan went quiet, pulling out a paper from his pocket. At a glance it vaguely resembled Greatspeak, however anybody with a monicker of fluency would be able to determine that whoever wrote it was illiterate, a false-facer, or both. "Ah, right. First we are to station ourselves at Albern Crossing, by the inn. I have been told that many interesting individuals pass through. Bounty hunters, in particular, and such folk are never adverse to adding another knife to their belts." He put the paper away before it could be further scrutinized.
"We will remain for a week's time and gather information about the area. Then after we've passed off knickknacks and picked up some odd jobs, along with the names of local gentlemen, we'll be heading to the Spire." His lips wavered for a moment, then a tight-lipped mockery of a smile graced his face. "Please, if you know any prominent names, tell me. I'm sure that my associates will have some sort of trinket they'd be willing to part with, at a heavy discount of course. You should be able to find me at Albern, ask around and I'm sure I'll turn up."
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Character Name: Alaric Armins
Character Race: Human
Character Age: 21
Brief Physical Description: Alaric wears a well-tailored and well-worn tunic, along with thick but otherwise nondescript pants. His skin is fair, with subtle tan lines around his neck, wrists and feet. He has high cheekbones, thin lips, blue eyes and a downturned nose.
