OOC Minecraft Username: yellowpage0 Are you at least 18 years old?: yeah! Have you read the rules? (Link): yep! (Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: (Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): hello!! im yellowpage, used to do alot of rp around 2015-2017 and looking to get back into it! — 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, avoid simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?) Initially, Shakesh hadn’t realised the question was addressed to him. He had, for a moment, continued to do what he done for hours at that point, with his neck craned over and his greatling physique locked in battle with the design of the carriage, folded and contorted in bizarre ways to fit into its interior. He had been tracing the tattoos on his arms with intent, depictions of the constellations that dot the obsidian sky. He nodded as he retraced them, at their cosmic certainty, recounting the journey in his mind: “The magpie flying above the questing knight, the paramours reaching across the astral sea, the snake eating its own tail…” The women’s question lurched him back to reality, to the busy inside of the carriage. He could feel irritation rising in his throat. Did he seem nervous? Why was any of this her concern? “I am not nervous, and I have better things to do than prattle on with you.” He replied, and the old women easily noticed that the venom within his tone concealed something deeper. She arches a brow, the warm smile never leaving her face. “Do you now? Well… I apologise for interrupting, but wouldn’t you rather talk, instead of just staring at the floor?” “I am not staring at the floor, I am-“ He stops himself, realising the futility of losing his temper here. The old women nods, her expression somehow softening further. Shakesh sighs, his expression softening to match hers. “My clan once resided amongst the other Greatlings in the mountains, but they descended long ago and now travel the Faded Steppe, following the Ouroboros as it moves across the night sky. The Steppe is vast, and we live a life of contemplation away from towns and people.” He begins to settle into the conversation, finding comfort in recounting his journey thus far. “The news of the disappearance of the Aedall and the discovery of the Spire reached us some time ago, before I was born, through our occasional trading with the few communities of Falstoners in the Steppe and passing Valkyian merchants.” He pauses, shifting in his seat slightly. “Recently, however, some of the older arcanists of our clan have begun to have… dreams.” The women tilts her head slightly. “Dreams?” “Of this Spire, they think. Some call them dreams, others say nightmares. Regardless, they all seem to be hinting toward something happening in the Reach.” He takes another pause before continuing. “Our leader gathered us one night, and asked a single question.” “Which was?” “Who will go to the Spire and find the meaning of these dreams?” “You volunteered?” “I felt I had to, of all the young men in our clan I have been through the most winters, felt the most sun on my back. So now I am here, in a strange new land. I will find the secrets that the Aedall kept from the world, and I will unlock the meaning of the Spire and the dreams for my clan. Or perish trying.” He sighs, looking back at the women. “Does this answer your question?” The women nods, content with his response. “It does dear, thank you for sharing. I hope you find what you are looking for here.” As the conversation died down, Shakesh closed his eyes in contemplation. He recalled that on the night he volunteered to leave for the Reach, the Archway was shining brighter than usual in the sky. He falls asleep as the carriage hurdles on, wondering what may lay beyond the horizon. — Character Name: Shakesh Character Race: Greatling/Fey-Touched Character Age: 27 Brief Physical Description: Scarred and tattooed skin is pulled taut over muscle and bone. His face looks as though it was hewn from some furious cliff face, and that afterward the instruments of this endeavour were planted on his head as two mighty horns. Solid teal orbs set into his face betray a Fey-Touched lineage to the world, gleaming like gems in a moon shaped pool. He has the stature of an archetypical Greatling, standing tall over seven feet with long and wiry limbs. The few clothes he wears are those of a nomad, a regime of animal pelts and hides occasionally broken up by pieces of fabric bought from passing merchants.