OOC
Minecraft Username: Sujitation
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yees
Have you read the rules?: Yes
How did you hear about Avalore?: Girlfriend recommended the place!
(Max. 1) Were you referred to by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: AnxiousSmile
Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): I’ve roleplayed well over a decade now and primarily on just one server, I wanted to expand outward as well as getting my nostalgic fix truthfully. It’ll be a good breather. I do interior decorations for Minecraft builds, I’d love to get back into that here.
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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?)
The wagon lurched over uneven ground. The Midlander is not pleased with this dusty rocky road, being jostled around. Sure it was quicker then back home where the mud would eat away at the wheels and you'd have to drag your horse through it yourself but it was a cushioned path, the wagon ended up jolting them hard enough that they had to grip the bench just to keep steady. A slow breath escaped them, annoyed, their fingers tightening on the worn wood beneath them. The ride was rough, the wheels rattling against the mud. When they spoke again, their voice was louder, almost forced in their brashness, as if trying to make up for something. “Nervous?? Only for public transport,” they scoffed.
She laughed at that, a sharp, sudden sound, her greatling eyes shifting in the dim wagon light. The catlike pupils had dilated so much that her golden irises were nearly swallowed up, making her gaze eerily intense. The Greatling let out a dry chuckle, turning slightly to the side as if to avoid the woman’s stare. Then, in that particular mocking, ‘higher-than-thou’ tone, she muttered something under her breath. Their words were clipped, dismissive, though there was something almost performative about them.
She continued after a beat, her voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “Last sightings of those damned witches… the portents, they call them in those fables. Said they don’t exist, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head before leaning back against the wooden wall of the wagon.
“It has to be them,” she muttered, half to herself, half to the empty air between them. “There’s chaos down in the Spire, but it’s not just from those little country folk playing rebellion.” She fell into silence for a long moment. When they spoke again, her voice had dropped lower, carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t care what those hags will charge me,” she said finally. “It’ll be worth it. It’ll be equal, won’t it?” Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze back to the woman across from her, the fire of something unreadable flickering in her eyes.
The fiery-haired individual snapped back to reality at their contemplated murmurs, looking back to the old hag with a dramatic pose. “KEKEKE- Simple fairy tales for the superstitious if you ask me! I also travel to that /lovely/ backwash alley to meet my sworn.. partner in crime to which I so-HATE! We’re quite the marvel.~ My looks and how she- smells like a bog strider.” Their voice redirected from their previous outspoken inner thoughts. She pondered further what the people would think to a celebratory bonfire when she’d arrive, the Firbourne side of her yearned for it as a beginning to a new chapter in her own life.
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Character Name: Keres-Innes Ferelith
Character Race: ⅔ Greatling
Character Age: 25
Brief Physical Description: A buff, flamboyant woman with a large, fiery pompadour mullet that extends in curls down their back. Dressed in all too expensive fabrics and jewelry this sleazy swindler adorns the height of 8’2, which can be hard to notice past their usually slumped or constantly posing form.
