OOC   Minecraft Username: Damrishy (“Damrish” was taken and I had to settle for this)   Are you at least 18 years old?: I am.   Have you read the rules? (Link): I have.(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: A friend of mine told me about it.(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: ClownMotel   (Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Hello. I’ve been roleplaying for probably a little over half of my life now. I don’t recall exaaactly when and where I started, but I at least know I’ve been roleplaying since 2015 at the earliest, maybe 2014? This would be my first time doing it on Minecraft, however!   —   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?”   “Oho!” The man suddenly brims with life, having been snapped out of the dreadfully boring moments of his past. “Took one of you long enough to finally ask!” Jarin boasts at a volume far too loud, firmly placing his hands on his hips in a proud exaggerated gesture and accidentally elbowing the two poor souls sat next to him. Once he’s finished doing that, he places his hands on his knees— one per knee, as he leans forward towards the lady while wearing a smile he can barely contain, before continuing loudly. Once you get him to start, it’s near impossible to get him to stop. “Well, then! Allow me to regale you the glorious story of my past!”   Of course, no such story exists. He’s about as average as one could get. Still, it wouldn’t do good to tell people that, now would it?! He’s here to make a name for himself, and if he has to spread a few white lies to do it, then so be it. So, he begins to spin his elaborate tale. “It all began in my hometown… the city of Mariza! Surely you’ve heard of it, eh? I’d be shocked if you haven’t! If you need a refresher, it’s that big ol’ Valkian trading city in the Midlands. —But make no mistake! I’m no trader like most Valks. No, instead… I hunted beasts. Mighty ones! Far beyond the likes of what most people see in their lifetime!”   Well, at least that wasn’t too far away from the truth. It is true that Jarin lived in Mariza all his life, and that he wasn’t a merchant, but… He’s barely even picked up a sword, and he only did so to get Crowns, because he heard mercenary work paid well. And with his financial situation being rather rocky recently due to him getting fired from every job he gets... This was the best bet for him. Still, this is necessary, he tells himself. If he remains a nobody, how can he ever reach his dreams of glory, fortune and fame?! This is simply a… head start for him. Advertising!   Jarin continues, putting a dramatic voice on. “Alas, the beasts there proved far too weak for my extreme might… And so, I wandered the land, leaving my humble home in search of stronger beasts, I ventured all the way to the Mist Islands by boat. But it was not to stay; no, it was to travel even further… After that short stop, I sailed relentlessly by my lonesome until I reached the Ashlands. Docking at Port Sulferm, I gathered myself for the journey of a lifetime…”   He had been to the Mist Islands, once… Sirensong, to be specific. It was during a time where he worked as an apprentice to another trader. In fact, that’s where he lost that opportunity due to his clumsiness. His improper handling of magnesia near water had set the entire ship ablaze, and all the goods along with it. On the bright side, the merchant he had been working for managed to secure a ship made out of Mistan Hardwood— an upgrade from the one he had prior— at a generous discount. If anything, he should’ve been thanked for burning that ship down! Soon after, his parents had kicked him out of the family out of shame. It was the last straw for them, to ‘teach him a lesson’, they said. All because he wasn’t ‘putting enough effort’ into keeping the jobs he got. Well, he’ll show them ‘effort’ when his name is sung with praise throughout the realm.   By this point, if the old lady were like almost anyone else who had made the grave mistake of speaking to this man, she would be sorely regretting her decision. It was clearly obvious to anyone listening how fake this story was.   “…But even still, the beasts there were no match for one such as I!” Jarin speaks, followed by a laugh. “I’m much like the Fireborne, you see? And not even those lakes of magma or roaring volcanoes posed a threat to me. Then, on the day I was leaving the Ashlands, I heard rumors from a group of Valkian traders over at the port… that the beasts in this land were far, far stronger. So, here I am, to confirm for myself! And if those rumors are true, then I’ll be certain to be the one to slay them.”   With his tale done, he proudly looks around at his audience… Who seem to have a mixture of disinterest and plain annoyance on their faces. …That story wasn’t believable at all, was it?   Gritting his teeth, he folds his arms in silence and looks down. The rest of the ride was filled with an awkward silence. The mood had been ruined, and it was all his fault.   It’s fine, he convinces himself. He’ll just prove his worth when it matters most. Even if it takes a while. Then, he’ll finally make a name for himself. He’ll be remembered. He’ll be somebody.   —   Character Name: Jarin Umen   Character Race: Human   Character Age: 25   Brief Physical Description: Jarin has brown hair and blue eyes, is 5’09’’ and is often seen wearing attire befitting a commonfolk. With a brown vest and a white undershirt, black pants and brown boots, it would be rather hard to locate him in a crowd.   Image of Skin and Figura Model: