OOC
Minecraft Username: aelvo
Are you at least 18 years old?: I'm almost 21
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Planetminecraft
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: N/A
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
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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?)
⋮°˖✧𓆩✧𓆪✧˖°⋮
Edric moved slightly on the wagon seat, the sound of the rhythmic hoofbeats creating space for quiet thoughts. Fields outside the wagon window blurred into the sky, he took a deep breath, and his eyes met hers.
“Nervous?” The woman asked, smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes. A small grin grew upon Edric’s face - Silence following her question, then a simple answer.
“Possibly.” He let air leave his nostrils slowly, hands pressing each other tightly.
“I can tell it’s your first time. I still remember mine.” She flashes a grin and leans in. “Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
“The Valk Midlands - that’s where I come from. Well.. used too.” His voice was heavy like water filled boots in a swamp. “Everything is like a puzzle, it all fits in place. Nothing suprises anyone.” He shrugged, his grin disappearing but rather being replaced by uncertainty. “Every person is a good fit somewhere, ment to do a certain job. Order matters deeply, the Empire almost.. measures everyone, places people where they’re supposed to be.” He looked down, his eyes catching the glimpse of the wood on the floor of the wagon. He shifted his grip, pressure rising within him. “The system thrives on certainty. There isn’t any doubt - the regime doesn’t allow there to be any.” Edric reached his hand under his seat, grabbing his bag - he opened the clutch on it and pulled out a notebook - along with a fountain pen that looked to be a little unsafe for one to use on a moving wagon. Writing appeared slow at first, just marks on his notebook. Ordinary marks, like one of a human would make. Then tiny changes appeared, ink spreading across the sheets, letters shiting while his pen wasn’t touching the paper. A quiet lump appeared in his throat, it was arriving fast - clear and cold. “Magic in Valkian culture does not come free nor unfold by choice, it is watched, closely managed. Using it means pledging to a patron, giving your fate to a presence older than any blood.” His look tightened. “One came for me once. I can not name what it was, exactly. But I knew enough to say no.” Silence settled shortly after, whilst Edric gently closed his notebook. He opened his mouth to speak, gently biting down on his top lip before nodding whilst continuing. “Saying no painted me as a threat. A lone mage with no master? Not uncommon, but that kind of wild spark is bound to set anyones nerves on edge around me. Risks don’t last among the Valk, not any longer. The Red Fists are rising, removing anyone they see as unpredictable or extra.” He slowed his words, scratching his neck with his left hand. “I wanted to leave before they made a choice about me.” He turned to face her again; his look had eased - though his sense of annoyance remained. “Tales of the Southern Reach were told years ago, untamed and unchecked stories far from midland tales.” His eyes drifted to the fields once more, his finger gently tapping the cover of his notebook with a strong rhythm. “Legend says the Arsa Sidhe lived there once. Then disappeared without battle, without sound. Places like that don’t forget moments like that, they change - adapt.” A light laughter escaped him, quieter than earlier. “Most people hear the legend, and then steer clear of it. But I guess - I heard it and thought… maybe it’s a place where someone like me can exist without being immediately labeled or hunted after.” His shoulders relaxed a bit as he leaned back. “I didn’t come here because I know who I am.” He grinned somewhat, admitting to himself. “I came because I don’t know who I am. I’d rather figure that answer out on my own terms - than have it handed to me by someone or something who has their own plans.” The wagon jolted a little - then slowly came to a stop. “Nervous?” He added, a hint of dry humour creeped back in to his tone of voice, “Yes. A little, but I think I’d be more afraid of staying where I was.”
Usage of AI to generate, modify or translate the writing on your application will result in denial of your whitelist. There will be no chance to re-apply afterwards.
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Character Name: Edric Mara Valerim
Character Race: Human, Valkian Culture
Character Age: 24 years old
Brief Physical Description: Edric was tall, standing at 5'8" with golden locks framing his face. He appeared withered, as if he had already spent enough time trying to figure the world out. His fingers were stained by ink, and his clothes were nothing of importance, as the harsh quality spoke for it self. Nothing about Edric would scream "Mage" - he'd been careful to hide it.
Image of Skin and Figura Model:
