OOC
Minecraft Username: Murghom
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes!
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes!
(Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: I’m joining as referred by my friend, thiefclass (Locke)
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
I’m Brandy, an MCRP’er who’s been around the block a few times, from frequenting the niche’s most popular servers, to even running one of my own in the past. I’m an enjoyer of tabletops, and a digital artist. I’ll be sharing art in the discord as I do it. <3
I will however share the skin and art I intend to use for my character.
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)? (150 words minimum - please make sure to include some references to our lore in your response!)
Roman drove and twisted his boot-heel into the ground, almost reticent to pay heed to the elderly voice beckoning his attention. The Walljack lingers on the sound his foot makes until one, ten seconds pass by, and he lifts his pale eyes to stare at the elderly woman, lips quirking and pulling into an awkward half-smile. His shoulders roll before he falls into a more sociable posture, leaning beneath his bench to pull out a worn, wooden crate filled with what can only be described as forgotten junk.
Blackened, sootmarked fingers lift a bronze chain affixed to an ornate pointed pendant, swung in front of the woman’s eyes.
“Antiques and heirlooms,” he drawls slowly, fighting through a mound of gravel in his throat. Roman seems particular in the way he holds and shows off the flashy amulet, concealing a concerning gathering of rust on the back face.
“I, erh.. Collect, and sell them. Little memories, fragments of history. I’m hoping to, offload this, and maybe pick up a few what the Aedall left by. You know, ‘affore they up and went.”
Roman stopped, leaning forward to stare out the back of the wagon, down the path they were slowly drawing away from. He cradled his box of odds and ends into his lap, mindlessly coiling the rusted piece of jewelry around his wrist and fingers. By now, his tapping and driving had left a profound smattering of mud on the ground; A memento of his homeland moors.
The Walljack hoped that The Spire had even a fraction of the comfort he felt in the Swamplands.
Character Name: Roman Wicke
Character Race: Half Human / Fey-touched
Character Age: 32
Brief Physical Description:
Roman is a tall man of average build whose demeanor is more lax and languid than his ostentatious way of styling would have one believe, adorned in a large, mottled fur coat with textiled patterning. His hair, despite being relatively young, is a steel-colored gray, face adorned with half shorn and ungroomed facial hair. Thick eyebrows and dark circles beneath the eyes make Roman seem as if he’s always just awoken.
At first glance, Roman wears his dual heritage on his sleeves. One might find it impossible to ignore his long, blackened fingertips, or the off-color milkiness of his solid eyes.
Despite not being much of a tracker or hunter like his other kin, Roman seems to have his own share of scars. Notably, one across his cheek, and another striking across his chest.
