(Forgive the poor quality - I was both sick and tired when I wrote this. But it should get the message across well enough).
OOC Minecraft Username: Classygreen (WebbedPepper837 for the actual account)
Are you at least 18 years old?: …Definitely (yes).
Have you read the rules? (Link): …Totally (yes).
(Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: No one.
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
Eh, I’m a rookie artist an’ writer, and, perhaps, dare I say, a passable builder in minecraft. I don’t consider my stuff good enough to post, necessarily, but I’d still like to leave it an option.
-
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, avoiding simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?)
Nestled deep in the corner of the wagon sat a lone monk. He was dark and thin, draped in a jet-black robe of a foreigner’s devising, redolent with the stagnant aroma of incense. He sat in the lotus-pose, stooped deep in meditation, eyes glued-shut; As still as a stone. Indeed, the rumbling gait of the wagon and the bustle of south-bound ingrates failed to so much as dent his concentration. And just when it seemed as if the crone’s inquiry had glanced him entirely, the man’s eyes jolted awake. For a moment, it seemed as though a spark had ignited his visage, the life within him. But after a few moments more, his joyful eyes grew vacant, and his smile collapsed.
An unsmiling face now hides behind the korami’s dark cowl. Though motionless at first, the man soon turned to face the ancient women, fixing a stern, rock-solid countenance.
“A convoluted question.” He replied, his voice monotone and empty. “Certainly a long one…”
The man shifted his posture, assuming a more casual pose as he eased his back against the rawhide canvas of the wagon’s walls. “I’m not one for idle chatter,” he continued. “But I gather you won’t relent until your curiosity is sated, yes?”
The woman's grin only grew bolder, carving an amused smile into her wrinkled face as she leaned in further with baited breath.
A sigh escaped the man. “Let us begin, then.”
“...”
“You’ve heard the stories of the Southern Reach. We all have… of the monolithic crystalline structure that is the Spire, the Arsa Sidhian society of Aedall that is believed to have built it, and their sudden vanishment from all of known reality.”
The man pauses, and turns to look back, staring out towards the open road behind them. A cool gust washed over the two, bringing with it some few leaves. The man swept his hand outwards, and as one leaf floated closer, he caught it in his palm, retracting his hand inward to inspect his prize.
“As for myself: I’m a Korami migrant from the southern sands… the realm of Mori.”
“In my family, It is customary for the oldest-born to be sent out into the wider world once they come of age…” He continued, a pronounced air of passion permeating his voice, clutching the leaf tighter and tighter, as he carved a subtle smirk on his expression. “So that they might explore the world, and all it has to offer.”
He turned back towards the women, his smirk having vanished as fast as it had came.
“I consider myself a scholarly sort with a particular fondness for history. So when I heard tell of the South and of its denizens, I quickly found myself enthralled in all that the land, and the Aedhall had to offer. And so, I requested my inheritance early, gave my farewells’, and left as a South-bound pilgrim, sights set on uncovering this peculiar land’s secrets for future witnesses.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you know what happened next.”
Character name: Mendoza.
Character-race: Nue Sidhe (Human).
Character-age: No more than twenty.
Brief Physical Description: A young, dark man, possessed of a slender, yet athletic build. His length of his right arm is lined with bands of sigils, carved into the flesh with a knife - scarring providing form in lieu of ink.
