OOC Minecraft Username: oreo_is_cool2 Are you at least 18 years old?: yes I am 20 years old Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes I have read the rules, and understand them(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Minecraftservers.org (Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Im oreo, I love MMORPG's and most RP games/servers, I usually keep my OC's simple but fun, Im big into crafting, In IRL Im a 3rd year at Uni, going into Marine Engineering.  — 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?) Rael shudders, looking off in the distance at the never ending plains, the wagons occasional jolt matching the unease he felt, He looked around the wagon, never looking at one for two long, he then glanced at the old woman.  "Never liked wagons" he muttered, looking timidly at the woman, "I cant remember the last time I travelled this far, and back home the markets were so packed not even a food trolley could roll through it" He smiled for a minute, "its ironic, for my homeland being known for order the markets seem to convey none" His sentence trailed off, gazing down at the spinning wheels. "I suppose I was too used to order that I forgot theres never truly order" His eyes shifted towards his knap sack, staring at an ensignia that once meant his life to him. "My father once told me a tale when I was a child, it was about a dutiful knight" He shifted his body to face the woman, "In a faraway lands there was a knight named Brelais, he served his kingdom well, and fought many times on behalf of the crown. He believed that duty was order, and order meant peace. One day the royal court demanded for him to slay a rogue knight." He clears his throat. "This loyal knight found the rogue, and slayed him. However he found a note in his sheath. The note was evidence that the royal court was trying to overthrow the crown. Shocked the knight ran back to the kingdom and showed his majesty the note. The court told the king that he was lying and was a traitor to the kingdom" Rael pauses, "Can you guess what happened? The knight in horror fled the castle, he was chased down and cornered into the court yard and executed right were he took his knights oath." He glanced over, noticing the old womans expression, a slight frown. He averted his eyes, worried he had told a tale not to be told. "Tales of the damned are the ones that bring meaning into the world" or at least thats what his father told him, he sighed "The reach is my key to escaping the facade order brings" For what is order without war? Without deceit? Rael knew these too well, He knew the knights story well as it was the reflection of his past, His fathers disappearance, his mothers murder, and the crime of following orders that led him to flee his homeland. He glanced back at the woman, thinking to himself, is this all worth it? He lost everything, his home, his family, his job. All that remained was the coating of dust that layered his clothing from his forge, and an ensignia that only brought him grief.  "I've let ghosts rule me too long," he muttered under his breath, his voice firmer now, carrying the weight of something awakening. "Every scar, every mistake... it wasn't the end. It was the beginning." He looked at his hands—scarred, calloused, and blackened with soot that had never fully left. They were not the hands of a warrior. They were the hands of a maker. These hands had shaped armor worn by Warriors and cowards alike. These hands once meant something. They would again. "I’ll open a forge," he said, almost surprised by the certainty in his own voice. "Not just any forge. My forge. I’ll make armor better than anything I crafted before. I’ll shape stories into steel—not for the wealthy, but for those who still bleed and fight and matter." He looked over at the old woman again. Her frown had softened, and she gave him a slow, knowing nod—as if she too had once carried regrets heavier than a wagon full of gear.   Character Name: Rael Moss Alverdon Character Race: Human Character Age: 29  Brief Physical Description: Rael is 5'11, weighs 180lbs and he has broad shoulders, and dirt and soot engrains his hands, many small burns cover his arms, his eyes are green. His face usually holds a stern expression, like hes trying to avoid showing his true intent. He is dressed in worn clothing that is stained with soot and dirt. Image of Skin and Figura Model: I have an image of his casual wear, however, Im not well versed with figura, so I apologize.