OOC Minecraft Username: Brssssh Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes, 25 Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Joining with a friend who found it online(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: The aforementioned friend: Haloayla (Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): This is a skin/figura and his rideable horse that I made for LOTC — 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)? Cedric blinked, pulled from his thoughts by the woman's question. It was the water. The Albern river racing by as the caravan sat for what felt like hours at the checkpoint drew him back to that night. Running along the eastern road from Auclair to Mariza, the sound of the Doigt Céruléen waves beating on the shore through the night and into the morning, red burns fresh then but now nearly healed from his dash out of the blazing vineyard seeming to burn him anew with each step. He wondered if he still smelled like smoke. It had been several days of travel since he'd last noticed it on himself or Jacque, and the blisters had since faded, but he wasn't sure if he'd grown used to it- or if the other smells he'd acquired since had concealed it.  "Safety." he answers quietly, his eyes glancing over the sleeping form of his companion next to him. Laughter erupted from those listening. Safety? In the Reach? To them it must sound foolish, but he knew. Better the dangers of the wild than the pursuit of the powerful. A nobleman with a vendetta to settle was surer to find you than a hungry bear, and perhaps more savage too. No, he would take his chances in the south.  He straightened a little, forcing a grin. “A new start, then. For me, and for her.” He gestured at Jacky. “You’ll see—she’s destined for more than any of us imagine. And I’ll be there with her when she proves it.” Another round of laughter. They didn't believe him. But that didn't matter, he knew he was right. Jacky would do something to change the world- all he had to do was be sure she lasted long enough to do it.He'd once aspired to knighthood. Jacky’s father had stood but a step away from elevation to nobility, and when that step came, surely he would have needed knights to serve his house. Cedric had hoped to be among them. But that dream, like so many others, would have to wait. The Spire was said to keep a militia of its own, perhaps they might take him on. The thought of leaving Jacky’s side soured in his chest, but they'd need money, and a sword-arm could always earn bread. Perhaps they would even give him a blade to replace the one he had lost fleeing the fire. His gaze drifted to her again, resting in uneasy sleep beside him. Under his breath, he shaped his thoughts into a vow: “I will protect her, Lady of the Lake. I will not fail her again.” He knew the prayer fell on empty air. The Lady did not hear him, and he had given her no proof of his worth. He was no shining figure from a bard’s song, no knight in gleaming steel. Yet to Cedric the oath was no less binding than if it had been sworn in her glade. And this time—this time—he would not fail.— Character Name:  Cedric Merekson Character Race: Midlands Vulkian Human Character Age: 25  Brief Physical Description:A young Vulkian man from with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. His skin is lightly tanned, a man accustomed to work in the sun but by no means a farm-hand. His body is athletic, having trained to use a sword since his early teens, however with very little practical application to hone his skill against. He sports few scars of any note, though recently his skin has seemed rather red- perhaps recovering from a particularly bad sunburn? Image of Skin and Figura Model: Haven't made a figura yet. Coming soon.