OOC
Minecraft Username: JamieBuggie
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: CCARKUS
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): I'm James (he/him), I have been known to do art on occasion.
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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)? (150 words 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?)
One eye, burning red like hot coal, opens at the attempt at conversation, studying the appearance of the woman as much as she does him. Larimir lifts a large hand and drags it down his face, as if to pull himself out of the catnap he had been taking. His great bulk makes the wagon cramped, and he shifts slightly to give himself a bit more room, much to the chagrin of those he’s seated beside.
“I needed a change of scenery.” His voice is deep and rough, like stones grinding against each other, and thickly accented. The statement itself isn’t entirely a lie, though a natural distrust of strangers stemming from his Greatling heritage pushes him to leave out any more topical information. To punctuate his point, Larimir averts his gaze from the woman and turns it to the landscape passing them by. He thinks he’ll never get used to it here; everything is so green. Nothing like the greyscale of his home in the volcanic mountains of the Ashlands- granted, there are some small patches of green there. But the light is plentiful here, and the warmth of the sun beating down on his face reminds him of home, of her. He lives in that moment for what seems like ages, letting himself be happy just for those few seconds, then shakes his head as if to erase it from his mind, turning once again to face the elderly woman.
“Surely you know of my people. You know we travel, create our own settlements. When the spirit of the Fire Dragon commands, we obey. There is unclaimed land here; the Spire is simply a, ehh, pitstop before I continue my journey.” Black-tipped fingers stray from their place on Larimir’s thighs to brush against a dark stone fastened around his neck by a length of leather cord, an absent-minded motion intended to soothe him as his gaze strays to the scenery around them again.
—
Character Name: Larimir Vaalen
Character Race: Half Greatling and Half Fey-Touched
Character Age: 47
Brief Physical Description: Larimir stands at a proud 7'7", a muscular brick wall with a powerlifter's physique. He has stone grey skin speckled with darker grey freckles and golden scales, and fingers tinted black at the tips. His eyes are a bright orange-red, burning like hot coals. There are two prominent scars marring his face, one above his left brow and the other spanning his right cheek. His hair, usually tied back in a loose ponytail, is of medium length and black, though its beginning to grey, giving him a salt and pepper look along with a matching beard.
