OOC
Minecraft Username: GoldieSenpai
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes, 19
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yessir
(Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: No
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): No 
—
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)?
Dafydd blinked, pulled back from the quiet grip of his thoughts by the woman’s voice. The rhythm of the wagon swaying beneath him and the steady thump of hooves against the dirt had lulled him into a trance, memories of towering peaks and blood-soaked battlefields playing behind his eyes like shadows.
He turned his head slowly, his gaze settling on the woman. She was older, her face lined with years, but there was warmth in her smile. He had seen plenty of smiles in his time—most full of malice or fear—but hers was genuine. That alone gave him pause.
“Nervous?” he rumbled, his voice low, gravelly, as though it hadn’t been used much recently. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, more out of politeness than amusement.
He glanced back out at the endless plains, the golden grass swaying in the breeze like waves on an ocean, the sky above them a flawless stretch of blue. It was so… open. Too open for a man who’d spent most of his life in the shadow of mountains or the dim torchlight of taverns. The South Reach was nothing like the lands he had known—wild, free, untamed.
Dafydd’s gaze lingered on the horizon, watching the endless plains of the Southern Reach stretch out like a vast, untamed ocean. The land here felt alive, with nothing to confine it. The grasslands rolled on forever, uninterrupted by the towering peaks or the stone walls he had grown so accustomed to. This land was open, exposed, a place where the sky and earth met without obstacle.
"It's... different," he murmured, almost to himself, before glancing back at the woman beside him. "Back home, the mountains hem you in. Every step is a battle—against the cold, against the rock, against the very land itself." He scratched his chin, his thick fingers tracing the stubble there as his mind drifted back to the jagged slopes of the high valleys.
"Back in the mountains," he said, glancing at the woman, "The Matriarch, My mother—she led our whole family. Stronger than any man I’ve known. She was the one who taught me-... My clan. what it means to survive up there, to thrive. And we thrived, but it was always… contained." He shook his head slightly, as though still coming to grips with the vastness of the Southern Reach.
Dafydd let the question hang in the air for a moment, his mind turning over the answer like an old, worn stone. Why had he come? He wasn’t sure if he even knew himself. A fresh start, maybe. Or perhaps it was just the kind of place where a man could disappear—where no one knew his name or what he’d done.
“I needed to leave,” he said after a long pause, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of years behind it. “Where I was… wasn’t a place for me anymore.”
His gaze shifted back to the woman, meeting her eyes. They were kind, patient. She wasn’t pressing, just listening. It was something Dafydd wasn’t used to—being listened to without judgment or expectation.
“I’ve spent most of my life in places where you fight just to stand still,” he added, rubbing a hand over his shaven head, feeling the familiar scars under his fingers. “But here… maybe here I can find something different.”
—
Character Name: Dafydd 'Elgath' Dewr of the fen Harlech clan
Character Race: Greatling
Character Age: 27
Brief Physical Description:
Body & Facial Details: Despite his scars, Dafydd's body is well-maintained, with muscles that speak of his physical strength. He has a rugged and masculine appearance. His Greatling tusks/teeth add to his demeanor, and his pale blue Greatling skin provides a stark contrast to his black hair lined with white streaks.
Clothing: Dafydd's choice of clothing is practical and functional, suited for the challenges of his job. His thick black tunic is designed to withstand the rigors of battle, and his dark blue trousers provide flexibility for quick movements. His woolen boots are sturdy and well-worn, evidence of his long travels and hard work. When Dafydd needs to be battle-ready, he dons his suit of heavy armor, including shoulder pauldrons and other protective pieces. His armor is well-crafted and intricately designed with features representing his position and Greatling clan.
