OOC
Minecraft Username: Meta1
Are you at least 18 years old?: I am over the age of 18 (22).
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes, I have! (Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: I heard about it from a friend who is currently on Avalore. (Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: Eviscero
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): My gamer tag has always been Meta for the last 12 years! I've been a frequenter of MCRP communities for those 12 years and have consistently been a GM or an event manager for most of those years. I enjoy lorewriting, worldbuilding, and making maps. :)
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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?)
His hands, calloused and rough from years of training, instinctively curl into loose fists in his lap. He offers the woman a small, tight smile in return. The rhythmic swaying of the wagon is a constant drumbeat, a stark contrast to the familiar, chaotic pulse of the Land of the Red Mountains he once called home. He can hear the ghosts of his ancestors in those hoofbeats, their restless spirits urging him forward.
“I have come to make a name for myself,” he responds, his voice a low rumble. He watches the endless expanse of the Southern Reach’s rolling hills, so different from the harsh, fractured lands of his people in Uul'san. “And to start a new family line.” He hesitates, glancing down at the thin leather sheath at his hip. "I carry no family blade yet. Mine… was taken from me. It was not a weapon of war, but a simple, ceremonial piece. It was forged of the finest steel from the mines near the Iron Bastion, passed down through my lineage for generations. To lose it… is to lose our story. That's what our traditions say, anyway. I was too young to fight back, too young to even understand what was happening. I was an adult in name only."
His thoughts wandered back to that day, to the shame that still burns in his gut. He had just returned from his pilgrimage to the mountains, believing himself ready for his adult life. But he was not. He sighed, his voice dropping lower. “I want to found my own clan roots here, in this new land. I want to replace the blade I lost and start a new family line that will be remembered for its strength and courage. My people value making a life with meaning, a life with impact. I will not have my soul fade away into nothingness. I will be a warrior who is remembered forever. Perhaps here, I will finally have a chance to do just that."
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Character Name: Hajime Iyo
Character Race: Korami Human
Character Age: 22
Brief Physical Description:
Hajime Iyo is a 22-year-old who stands at about five-eleven, with a lean but tough build that tells you he grew up somewhere with a lot of mountains to climb. His posture is always straight and a little tense, like he's expecting a fight to break out at any moment. He's got short, black hair that's practical and out of his way, and a face with sharp cheekbones. His eyes are a deep, dark brown and they have a serious, watchful gaze.
His hands are probably the most telling thing about him—they're rough and calloused, marked with small scars that show he's spent a lot of time training with weapons and working a forge, which makes sense for where he's from. He also has a thin scar running from his temple down to the corner of his eye, a little reminder of a past scrape. There’s a quiet seriousness about him; he seems to carry a heavy feeling, a shame that shows up in his eyes whenever he's lost in thought.
