Asdflawl

Stumbling in your most favorite port or trading hub, you find a piece of parchment bound to the outter wall of the Tavern. “The thrill of adventure, the desire for coin, the stories to tell at the Taverns. This is what you want, nay, this is what you need! Seek out Miss Silvercolt in the Tavern for employment under the Silvercolt Collective!” Another chance at coin? Perhaps more fuel for the bloodlust? Intrigued, you find yourself stumbling into the Tavern. It’s small, and packed with the obvious examples of the night. A sketchy woman in a far-too-beautiful dress offering you a night of passion, a Goblin attempting to get your attention for a game of dice. The Barkeep serving a handful of near-drunken oafs. Then, you meet gaze with the woman at a table, parchment scattered about… and her massive, Elven bodyguard staring you down. The human seems elegant in her own right; styled hair, fancy clothes-… not fit for this Tavern at all, really. You approach, and the woman sitting down smiles up at you, beaming proudly at your approach. “Can I help you?” Q: “Who are you?” A: “Jane Silvercolt of the Silvercolt Collective. Mind the mess, I’m usually working on the road, and inside seedy Taverns as is.” Q: “What is the Silvercolt Collective?” A: “A group of freelancers, mercenaries, oddities and soldiers, all seeking to make our own way through this world. Some are loyal, while others are in for a job or two. However, they’re all in it for the same reason: Adventure, coin, stories, and arguably… making a difference in the world.” Q: “What are you looking for?” A: “Anyone and everyone, at least, ones that I can manage firmly in control. Don’t worry, I don’t run the Collective like an Orcish clan, I assure you… but I still need to have some power. You respect that, don’t you?” Q: “Am I bound to a certain place?” A: “No, you won’t be. You may travel, you may do as you will. However, I’ll have means to communicating with you, perhaps a week or two in advance, to tell you where the company would be. You may come, or you may not. Or perhaps you can join my current party and travel with us. It’s up to you, really.” Q: “I don’t work with Alliance/Horde.” A: “There is no faction for us, and if you have a problem with the intermingling of races, then I would suggest not joining.” Q: “What -don’t- you accept?” A: “People proclaiming they can do anything and everything. Everyone has flaws, and I want to know yours.” Q: “How does payment work?” A: “By job, of course. I’ll see to what the work needs to be done, divide the costs, and make sure all else goes positive for the company and those involved.” Q: “Why choose you over other companies?” A: “Because my company is the best company, obviously. That, and you aren’t restricted, have freedom, and always get the thrill and coin with the work you put in. I guarantee it. Contracted in for a job, which I will make sure you do, and not have you think you are being paid for nothing. You will be working for the Collective, so I expect you to DO the work. ” Q: “I’m interested, what do I do now?” A: “We do an interview with a few set questions. Now is fine, if you have the free time. Or we can schedule it somewhere you’re more comfortable with. I’m a very mobile woman, and with my Elven friend behind me, I have nothing to fear.” Q: “What sort of jobs am I getting into?” A: “Local work. Perhaps even some very relevant work. I’m sure you’ve heard of the chaos on the Broken Isles, and my sights are heading there. Sometimes we’ll also be doing more simplistic jobs… clearing a cave of Crocs, or maybe saving a group of captured civilians. Everyone needs a group of heroes one day or another.” Q: “You’re taking a group of random heroes to the Broken Isles? That doesn’t sound very safe.” A: “Neither is adventuring into Blackrock Mountain or culling undead from the North. We all do it, for the right amount of thrill… and a good enough price. I hire only the most well equipped and skilled, so I have nothing to fear, truly.” Q: “This is a lot to think about.” A: “Don’t worry yourself, we travel a lot, and if you stumble across us, or send a parchment my way, we can keep in contact. We aren’t going anywhere, unless the world ends tomorrow.” Nodding, you make your way back from the woman, as she returns to her paperwork. The mighty Kaldorei behind her stares at you as you head to the bar. Interesting. The Silvercolt Collective! Now hiring! Looking for a progressive guild revolving around adventure, thrills, and fun? Join on any character* that can fit the life of a freelancer! Simplistic, DnD-style that anyone can join in on! Events with a continuity in gear, loot, gold, and jobs! Make new friends & enemies, form new relationships! An incentive to bring an open, constant RP to Epsilon as a whole! Events starting early-to-mid September! IC interviews required to join! Set one up today! Message me on the forums, or 'Jane' in game for a interview! *All types of characters welcome to try and join, but will be judged respectively based on their TRP and style of the character and may be rejected if not seen acceptable!

This is fucking great. As a builder, I honestly thank you.

Ehhh... I agree with everything you say besides this last part. There have been plenty of cases of people kinda' crapping on others beyond a playful manner. Teasing/bullying people for "LOL DRAGON EW KILL IT!" in a bluntly hazing manner is-... acceptable. But quite literally standing there, typing a full para/few sentences of how your profile is shit, your writing style is shit, and your entire existence on this server should be deleted cuz' of what you're rping is where action should be easily taken to a harder offense. Saying that the 'usual suspects' will never change [Those subjects being the people that DO sit there and shit on your TRP/profile looking to make fun of you and get a angry reaction] isn't acceptable IMO. If you're going to be a idiot that shits on everyone profile bluntly in means to hurt them/piss them off as memes and wanting a reaction, you should easily be accounted for. I've seen it happen in the start a few times, honestly, so it's already a thing the server is dealing with. Thankfully very little, but it still is happening.

The most important thing about being a 'Good' roleplaying server is, like you said in one of the points above, going to be the community. The reason that a lot of RP servers don't have traction is either because of drama between people or the fact that the toxicity gets so bad that the server loses a lot of grasp on itself. There are, of course, major reasons such as not having active phases, the tech to the server not being well crafted, and plenty of others, but in the end, I feel like it's those two things. When you have people running around being assholes, memeing, and shitting on people just for doing whatever they want in their own, personal RP storylines, they're going to cause people to run off, tell their friends, and build a reputation for the community and server. This is going to be the admins job, however, enforcing rules and everyone's own personal means to being a better person overall. It's hard to ask this, considering we live in an age of internet anonymity and people enjoy getting reactions from people, but I feel if this is monitored, it would be much, much better of a RP server than those out there. I've been on five different ones so far, and usually that's what I see happen to them. The community turns to crap, the admins don't do anything about it, and people begin to drift away because there isn't much of a reason to stick around. This is from my personal experience, however. I'm not saying have a rule where someone that calls another a 'Trash Gnoll RPer' to the guy RPing a Gnoll should be banned, or also get the boot just by typing the words 'kys retard', but having warnings and means of combating people like this, or keeping them in check, will be wise. Hell, maybe even reward good behavior, lmao. You can have your opinions of other RPers and what they RP, and it's not wrong to dislike someone elses opinions, lol. You just shouldn't be ruining their experience here by attacking them publicly and ruining their night. THAT is what will make the server crumble and be like the rest, really. I, in my opinion, think that everything will follow with a well managed community. Of course there will be phase and people drama for RP, because people want a lot of things to go their way in RP, but that can be settled man to man... but the toxic people that come to the server in means of memeing, trolling, and bluntly shitting on others just because they can, with no action against them, will in the end hurt the RP server to be like the rest. Whew, a little long-winded, but I got there. That's my two copper, take it as you will! This server has been beyond awesome so far, and it looks like it's in the VERY right direction.

With the server down, I decided to use my free time to write! A second part of a 'new series' I suppose to explore my characters backstory. I hope whomever reads this and is interested enjoys, and always open to ideas, critques, and otherwise. Just for sake of keeping stuff clean, I decided to call them parts, and chapters, because it looks better and feels cooler. Enjoy! Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2: A lack of foresight Time: Right after the Catacylsm. The campfire was warm, even if the air around them was all the more dry from what she was use too. The Barrens was like that, no matter which portion you were in since Deathwing had split it recently. The heavily Horde controlled north or the war-torn southern region, the air was always… arid. It wasn’t bad, really, Lilyana didn’t mind it, but she much preferred the more temperate lands that Azeroth had to offer. She couldn’t be mad with the sight above, however… the spectacle of stars that dotted across the sky, with the silence of but the insects that resided in the tall grass. The sound of a near animal-like snort made her gaze flick forward, blinking as she took in the sight that seemed to surround the campfire. A handful of seemingly loyal Horde members, all with their own agenda, glaring down at the small woman that resided on her own rock in front of the fire. Many of them battle scared, most of them well armed, and all of them had their attention drawn to the carefree woman that was resting with them with a near predatory gaze. At least she was in good company…? A troll squatted near the flames, stick poking at the kindling as he said something in Orcish. The rest of the group smirked and chuckled loudly. An Orc responded back with earnest, his stare flattening right on Lilyana as he ended his brutish phrase with a lick of his lips. Lilyana frowned, and her brow furrowed as she held the rifle against her middle. It was getting tense, and she didn’t feel safe one bit. Perhaps having another ‘pink-skin’ with her would’ve honestly made it a little more fair. The Orc that was looking at Lilyana so keenly rose, a man clad in mail with a mighty longbow around his back. He stepped over to Lilyana and sat himself down on what inch of the rock was left. The human didn’t budge, even if the man stood a good foot and a half above her. “You know, it’s very dangerous to come around here, little one.” The man spoke in that well-known common, causing her mouth to lightly dry. “I can handle myself, Orc.” She responded back, staring up at the looming form. “I’m sure you can… not just any pink-skin can make their way out here without knowing some form of survival.” He lifted a massive, paw-like hand to curl around her shoulders… she tightened her grip on her rifle in a welling uncertainty. “However, there are-… rules out here, in this camp, and you are new. I will give you but some advice.” “That’s appreciated…” Lilyana responded, the man’s hand moving up to lightly curl through her short-cut hair. Those fat fingers staining her own, dirty locks with whatever grease he had on his form. “Good. I’ll be wanting more appreciation tonight…” His voice lowered, and Lilyana narrowed her gaze as she slowly began to sneak her hand away from her rifle… and down towards her knife that was concealed in her boot. She was now going to have to make an example for the rest of the camp… or die trying to do just that. “Gun’grak.” A voice called out, guttural and worn. He froze his hand that almost curled around Lilyana’s head as a whole… and Lily seemed to lock up as well. The camp’s attention, which was almost all on the sight of this human and Orc, turned back to the fire or the voice. “If you want something to lay, perhaps use your pig… it has more interest in you than the human.” The camp boasted, everyone laughing loudly. A mighty Tauren lightly slapping his trunk-like leg as the Troll with the wooden stick in the burning kindle nearly threw himself back as he cackled. The Orc slowly drew his hand away from the shorter human, Lilyana trying her best NOT to laugh bluntly at the man’s words as he sneered down at the woman… not before removing himself, rising, and spitting down at the human’s feet, hefting his long bow, and retreating to his massive boar that rested against a tree to wither away in embarrassment. Lilyana drew her stare over to the voice, a man that rested against a downed, rotting log. His gaze was covered by a blood-soaked wrapping, and his chest wrapped in torn bandages and a long, thick kilt covering his lower-half. However, the most wonderful sight that he had… was a fantastically pristine sword, that he kept rested on his lap the entire time. The human's brow furrowed once more, and stared into the flames as the rest of the camp went quiet after their obviously long, needed laughter. Time went on, and various of these intense people that were resting at this fire seemed to retire to their own tents, bags, or mounts that they used as leverage to rest. Lilyana, however, wasn’t about to rest… her stare flicking over to the man from time to time as she lightly battered her fingers against her legs. After a long enough time of waiting, the human rose her, strapped her rifle, and moved herself over to approach the resting Orc. Arguably, she had no idea if the man was sleeping or awake. Thankfully, he seemed to answer that much for the human as he took a heavy breath from his nose, and curled his lips in light confusion. “Your kind has a very distinct stench, you know.” He commented, and the human lightly gasped in shock, before clearing her throat, and glancing to the side as she held her rifles leather strap. “Aye, I know that much. Can say the same about yours.” She commented, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, but we stink more of wolves and sweat. You humans stink of-…” “Over-zealous pride and desperation?” She interrupted, and watched as the blind man shook his head. “I was going to say of lumber, but yes, that too.” He responded, Lilyana snickering back as she stood there quietly for a long moment, staring back at the near-empty campfire, before looking back over at the man. “I-… just wanted to come over and say… thank you, for your assistance.” She said, and he couldn’t help but hold a hand up. It had various scars along his wrist and palm… she could make them out even in the light of the flicking flames. “Say no more. I frequent this fire quite a bit. Gun’grak wants to stick himself in anything that isn’t Orc.” He said, then quickly adding afterwards. “However, he raises a fair point, human. The Barrens isn’t a wise place to keep yourself… the dragon has done a number, and the Alliance is almost always kill on sight with their new keep they’ve built.” “I know.” The woman said. “It’s why I am here.” Lilyana admitted, moving to go and rest herself lightly against that rotting log as she stared over into the flames. “An Alliance deserter, hm?” “No. I took my leave returning from Northrend.” She quickly added. She watched his dry lips curl downward. “I see.” He said, lightly drawing his hand down to the hilt of his blade. “I’ve come to Kalimdor to-… search.” “For what? Fame? A new desire to strike fear in the Horde?” He said that last one with a tad more seriousness than the first. “I don’t know. Something to do with myself, I suppose.” She added, her throat tightening in confusion as she gulped. “So you come to the land where you will be cut down on sight?” He said, growing desperate to find a reason. “Arguably, I only just got here but a few days ago… I just learned of the battles crossing Ashenvale and Stonetalon and now the Southern Barrens. I just-… I’ve come to find reason. With myself. I’m done being fodder for the Alliance. I’m done watching young drafted men and women fight for their city, only to be forgotten by the cost of war. I’m done with killing Horde in cold blood because I wear the crest of Stormwind, only to get a medal and a cheer for my duty in the Alliance. I know of the past, and the aggression and hate, but I live in the present, not the past.” She said, her nose twitching with a light sneer. The man hummed, drawing a hand over to his single, long white braid to lightly stroke at it, curiously. Lilyana stared down at him with a frown. “I’m searching for purpose.” She finalized, staring up at the stars once again. “Odd.” The man spoke up. “I was once like you. A loyal Master of Arms for the Horde, after the Third War.” He lightly gripped at the handle. “I agreed my time in battle was done, but the Alliance and Horde conflict grew, and my pride was harsh. I killed in the name of my Warchief without thinking of reason why. I’m sure your own means to joining the Alliance army was purely in defense against the Lich King. To protect your family, and home.” “For the most part, yeah.” She nodded, still keeping her stare up at the sky. “Honorable. It is what I fought for, until I realized my family was safe, and there were much more important things to fight besides the Alliance dogs, that case coming up plenty of times to show that it’s more than true.” Lilyana nodded slowly, before staring forward again, letting the silence hold dominion. Perhaps this was a mistake… coming during some of the most conflict that had erupted due to the new Warchief's desires and the ‘clearly responding in full’ Alliance. “If you are to survive here during these times, human, you can’t be alone. You will be caught by the wilds or some Horde warrior thinking you’re Alliance scum, even if you say how you aren’t searching for conflict.” The man finally said said, nodding his head aimlessly. “Well, why can YOU do it alone, then?” She questioned, a tad rebellious, as was the humans attitude. She watched him slowly turn his head over to her… his expression still and blank, until it dawned on Lilyana. “… Right, you’re an Orc in Orc controlled land.” “There you go.” The woman let go of another, held sigh before nodding. “You’re right… perhaps it’s best if I return to Ratchet and the Bay. I’m sure I can find something to do with myself there.” She said, pushing herself off of the log, already moving to take her leave. “I thank you for the advice, Orc.” “Margrath.” He said. “And you will not be returning to port.” She blinked, her eyes narrowing as she began to slowly slip the rifle from her shoulder out of that well known uncertainty. “I will help you.” He said, and the human paused, removing her hand as she turned. “Help… me?” She said, raising a dark brow. “Yes, and not in the way like Gun’grak seemed to so elegantly mention.” The old warrior took the mighty blade, and jabbed it into the dirt… using it as means to rise. He was large, even if he was slouched from his age. His scars across his form very obvious now… plenty of wounds that each had their story. He lifted his blade up, and rested it against his shoulder. “Until fate parts us, that is. I know the lands well, even if my vision is lost… each area has it’s own stench, and it’ll be good to have a pair of eyes to watch me from tripping.” Lilyana slowly began to smile, staring up at the man as she spoke. “You don’t have to do this for a pink-skin, Margrath.” She slyly commented, lightly moving out of the way of the man as he began to move with calculated steps towards the fire. “Everyone looks the same to me, human.” He said, pausing mid-step to look down at Lilyana with his bandaged gaze. “Why would I treat you differently, just because you smell like timber?”

You're awesome, thank you for reading! I plan to write more and add onto this with new parts. I enjoy actually being to explore the backstory of my character!

A new roleplaying server, one that I'd love to actually get more entwined with the community. So, tonight I was feeling like writing, and wrote a piece for one of my most-RP'd characters, Lilyana Brown! Hope whomever reads it enjoys! Chapter 1: Same Old Situation Time: Present Day Azeroth. The dim light of the Tavern was one that Lilyana was fond of. Not too bright, aside the roaring flames of the hearth. The background noise of conversation, mugs clacking together, and laughter always made her feel at home. Perhaps it was less the laughter, and more the Ale that she downed with a hearty chug. This stool sucked, and it barely had her be at a well-put level with the bar. What the fuck was the point of a seat if it didn’t accommodate everyone and anyone? She leaned forward and grunted softly, staring up, then over to the side. Another Elven beauty. Kaldorei, at that, reading some book that she cared little for. Lilyana leaned over, trying to steal the contents of the tome. It was written in Darnassian. “Neat book.” She said, staring up and over to the purple skinned Elf, watching the exotic woman casually glance over at her. Lily simply grinned back with that award-winning, flirtatious expression. “Not as neat as me, however. Lilyana Brown, a pleasure for both me and you, I’m sure~.” She stretched out a hand for the Kaldorei to shake. She didn’t get much of a response besides the roll of her shimmering eyes before returning to the worn pages below. The human sighed, shifting herself to stare at nearly-empty mug. You know, times use to be better. She wasn’t finding herself in various Taverns looking for a nameless night of passion or some grouping to get drunk with and wake up in a pit the next morning. She was a Commander! A Spy Mistress! A woman that had fought tooth and dagger against the endless Scourge. She was above this. Times were better. They had to have been… … Right? She lost herself in the fluid. The remembrance of the icy winds that bit at her skin, the dark sky that loomed above. The nameless undead that shambled their way through the blizzard towards her group. She was a veteran, a woman that proudly saw herself in the glory of the Alliance. Clad in that respective uniform, wearing her tabard with pride as she held her rifle up to line up the shot, fastening the butt against her shoulder. The shot ringing the ears of her nearest squad members, the bullet whistling through the frozen air to pierce the skull of the risen soldier, before having it collapse into the snow with a thud. There were so many more, hundreds in the distance… all wandering aimlessly at the command of Arthas. Her time in these barricaded walls to cull the number of the mindless were never-ending. Days upon days upon days in these dug-in trenches of snow to act as a ground to clear out whatever group of the Scourge had found themselves close enough. They had to be the ones to do this, to clear out the numbers so that they didn’t overwhelm the tournament grounds. At the sudden sound of a man screaming, Lilyana shot her stare to the side. Gallen, the youngest and least experienced of her squad, seemed to have broken down from his vigilant watch of the eastern trench and let a ghoul slip by. The boy howling as those disgusting teeth lodged into his armor as the claw tore at his cheek. Traluu, a Paladin that had been with Lilyana since her promotion, drew her hands up to sear at the undead as Lilyana quickly dropped her rifle, grabbed at her two daggers strapped to her side, and charged the ghoul. It realized this, and unlatched the younger man as he dove to the side, bleeding horribly as he wailed in pain. The shorter human stepped through the snow with a quickening speed, her hair waving as she bobbed left, then right… and with a feint, she sliced her daggers together into the things throat, before kicking it to the trenches floor. The ghoul clambered and clawed at the air, getting but a moments reprieve before Lilyana drew her combat boot up, and stomped in the things skull with a disgusting splatter of near-broken bone and decaying rot that was its brain without a second thought. She panted, and stared back. Gallen’s armor torn, his wound horribly infected… the disgusting plague already beginning to set in that this diseased corpse held. Taluu began to work on the wound with the Light as he shut his eyes, weeping. “You fucking idiot. YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US ALL! What if there were MORE besides that one ghoul?!” The woman spat at the downed man, the recruit shooting his gaze open to stare over with wet eyes. The various soldiers that manned the trench were too far to hear this… the howling wind of Icecrown did that to you. Traluu glared over at Lilyana. “Commander, that is no way to speak to a downed soldier.” Lilyana snarled back. “Then maybe he should have continued scouting and not strayed from his watch. We BARELY have enough sharpshooters to deal with the scourge that approach us, and we’re at the eastern end of the trench. WE are the ones that protect the rest of the-“ “I know the situation, Commander! That does not mean you speak with such aggression to one of your own, wounded men!” The Draenei spoke over, her tail flicking against the snow angrily as her hands continued to focus the light. The human took a breath through her nostrils, Gallen staring between the two with teary eyes both in pain and a growing, apologetic expression. Lilyana locked eyes with him, her own narrowing as she continued to pant, before staring outward towards the frozen waste. The massive Frostwyrms that dominated the skies, the spirits of converted heroes from those horrid necromancers. Souls of the claimed, bodies of the forgotten… all part of the great engine that was the Scourge war machine. “OI, LASSIE. YE’ GOT AN ASS AS FINE AS THAT AND IT AIN’T ON ME FACE?!” W-… What? She blinked, the sound of the tavern chatter, the clattering of mugs and the sound of the bard strumming away. She spun around to look at her left; the Kaldorei was gone… and now was replaced with a stout, far-too-inebriated Dwarf that grinned back over at her. Lilyana sighed, and cracked a smirk, before looking over at the man, and lifting her mug. He lifted his, almost as if expecting it, and they clattered their mugs together, before quaffing down the rest of the fluid with a sigh. She removed the mug, and stared back forward at the barkeep, however speaking over directly to the drunken man. “Get a few more drinks in me, and we can see ‘bout that.” She lied, all the more welcoming to score a few more drinks and dash away from the seedy Tavern almost-drunk as the man would cry after her. No, the present was better than the past. A life of freedom and carefree expression, void of the horrors that she and her comrades had bared. It couldn’t get any better than this. Link to Chapter 2

Heyo! Glad I'm seeing all these memorable faces.