Dseyvar Skulfang's Application [Accepted]
Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 1:31 pm
Character Information
Dseyvar Skulfang was created in the 7th day of the 2nd month of 2012. I am a new player to Antica, I do know some people that have played here in the past, but I can't say I have friends or foes in this world. Right now, I intend to make Dseyvar a very personal project. I have been playing for some years, but never in a pvp environment, except rare incursions. Therefore I will be interested in studying aspects of pvp. My usual play style is a strategical one, I tend to try to have a good grasp of the situation before I jump in. I wasn't sure about the vocation I would chose, since I have accomplished acceptable levels of profiency in all four of them. At heart, though, I am a Knight, and so Dseyvar Skulfang chose the Knighthood.
Why would you like to join Red Rose
I grew up in Tibia looking at your guild hall in my world. I joinned a guild that would be what resembles more to a roleplaying guild, and across the years I became its leader. Lately we have been expanding, but at the same time having trouble with applicants. I won't deny: I also come here to learn. But mainly to fullfil two old dreams: master pvp (therefore Antica) and join Red Rose (therefore this application). Also, you do seem my kind of people: organization, standards, roleplay, events, history. I like to hunt and quest as much as I like to acquire day to day knowledge, and with so much yet to master it is quite boring to roam an almost empty road alone.
Story
The Night of the Fireflies
Once there was only a city, but that city grew bigger and bigger, larger and larger, and it became clear it was the capital of the Empire. Then small houses were built around the strong, almost unconquerable wall of the city, and eventually a village took form - Varilla.
Years passed and the Emperor concluded the Empire should expand. War was declared, men were recruited, blacksmith were forging day and night to supply the army. In the line of old men and young boys taken from Varilla, there was a young boy called Leodd. He was tall for his age, but he had few muscles and wasn't in shape. He was also terrorized. His family always managed to supply their sons without having to make them work thanks to the mill they owned, so he knew very little of the hardships life brings along.
From the end of the line a guard yelled: "Start walking scum! Your train starts now!".
Leodd looked around only to see other young boys like him with the same expression of fear and old men with a resigned look on their face.
The walk to the training camp took them all day, and when they got there Leodd's weak resistance gave up on him and he just fell into the muddy soil.
"Raise up!" - A soldier commanded. "Rise or die, fat worm!" He said while withdrawing his club from his belt, an ugly black weapon with spikes and blood remains.
Slowly with the strong, steel will of the Varillians, Leodd rose enough for the soldier to get away only mocking him, probably into the tent where all the soldiers gathered.
Deep in the cold night, laying in an old stinky blanket, the fool from the village saw his dreams going down the pit. The good life without having to work hard for a day, the beautiful wife to spoil him, the long and rich life he would have. All scattered in the wind, to leave only the stench that war leaves behind, blood, sweat and death.
It was then, as a tear ran from his eye throughout his face, that he saw a shiny golden dot in the middle of the forest. Then another one. And another. Soon a huge amount of dots rose together, giving the idea that they could blow the darkness away and lighten up the night. Leodd was too afraid, too tired and too depressed to walk there and check what was making all that light, so he tried to get as comfortable as possible and with tired and sad eyes fell asleep looking into the light that lit the dark.
The real training started the next day. And everyday Leodd would be mocked, beat, spit on, and eventually just had to crawl back to his blanket, if nobody had the idea of making him serve an higher ranked warrior trough the night. Every night he looked into the dark and imagined the golden lights standing up to the pitch black night.
He survived though. After the first year nobody mocked him for his appearance any more. After the second year few were able to beat him with any weapon. And his soft skin became strong as leather, his lack of resistance and overweight young forms gave place to a muscled young man with a strong look and two handed sword on his back.
Nobody knows when the training camp he was in was called to the front line. But they were. And Leodd amongst them, experienced the truth about death and terror. For the second time in his life there was nothing between him and the darkness and he felt that falling would be easier than standing and fighting the night with his sword.
When in the middle of the skirmish he fell to his knees, an arrow piercing his shoulder, an axe cut going from his left chest plate to his right abdomen and a fearsome enemy in front of him, he did not think of raising his sword or dodging the attack.
"So this is how it ends, eh? It was suicidal to try and win against such a big army. Quite easier than the last years. I wonder what happened to everyone at the village. I was such a fool... Still am... Getting in a war... Killing or getting killed. Deciding about people's lives and how they should live it, that is something only the gods should decided". Looking around for the last time before the man swung his axe, Leodd saw a glowing golden light. And then another one. And another one. And as the light rose to the night, his sword rose to meet his enemy. A new hope. To live. Just to live. No matter where, how or when. To remain alive. To stay alive and shine, even if for just one more second, to shine as he wanted, not as others told him. To shine as a warrior, not as meat pack to feed his enemies, his allies, his king.
Using all the skill and strength he had left, he fought until dawn, cutting trough men, armour, shielding and horses. Until his giant sized sword was drenched in blood and he could not get off the ground.
Against all odds the Empire won that battle, against enemies far surpassing their numbers. A tale of a Black Swordsman also rose.
"A giant over two meters, with a sword surpassing his hight, his armour drenched in dark dry blood was dark as the night, only some golden sparkles were visible each time he killed one more man, as he cut trough metal, flesh and bone" the simple people said. And so the story went on.
Years passed, battle after battle Leodd fought to live one more second, to survive as he wanted to keep on living free as an animal on the wild.
At last, on the tenth year of the cursed expansion the Emperor started, peace was achieved. The Empire added a small useless country to its borders and avoided a total disaster, while the dangerous, resistant enemies stayed apart, licking the wounds the Empire cut trough them.
Leodd was free. A character from a story the villagers liked to tell around a warm fire, but eventually believed to be as truth as fairies and dragons, thanks to all the overworked details of his appearance such as his height.
Two moons after the piece contract, Leodd stood foot out of the boat that brought him to the capital. It was already twilight but he went on to his home village, to live as he wanted to. Not a free loader, lazy boy, but a veteran of war, strong, deathly and capable of protecting and helping everyone with his arms.
When the night came down he reached Varilla. There was nothing left but ruined building and wild animals. From the burned rocks, broken weapons and growing vegetation, Varilla was another casualty of the war years ago. The years he fought and killed.
Standing on his knees, with the night involving him, there was nothing else to live for. The pitch black end of the village's well looked good enough. He knelt, now in front of the well, looking into the bottom nobody could perceive. No more worries, no more conscious, no more hurting innocents, making people suffer. Getting ready to dive he took a last look around the forest he grew in, on the other side of the village. But no lights came to save him. Only trees, centuries old, looked back at him. Nothing lit the dark this time.
A smile showed up on his face. He could lit the dark, he just had to fight it first. If the darkness is dark and deep enough then only one small flame could light miles. He laughed again and taking his sword on his shoulders ran into the dark, pitch black night. To try and lit a small flame of hope.
Anything else
What I would consider to be the most negative point in me is my lack of time. I have a relatively busy real life. My attempts to manage it have been successfull across the years, and I have been an active player for quite some time. What I want to say is that sometimes, time makes me unavailable, but never to forget.
Dseyvar Skulfang was created in the 7th day of the 2nd month of 2012. I am a new player to Antica, I do know some people that have played here in the past, but I can't say I have friends or foes in this world. Right now, I intend to make Dseyvar a very personal project. I have been playing for some years, but never in a pvp environment, except rare incursions. Therefore I will be interested in studying aspects of pvp. My usual play style is a strategical one, I tend to try to have a good grasp of the situation before I jump in. I wasn't sure about the vocation I would chose, since I have accomplished acceptable levels of profiency in all four of them. At heart, though, I am a Knight, and so Dseyvar Skulfang chose the Knighthood.
Why would you like to join Red Rose
I grew up in Tibia looking at your guild hall in my world. I joinned a guild that would be what resembles more to a roleplaying guild, and across the years I became its leader. Lately we have been expanding, but at the same time having trouble with applicants. I won't deny: I also come here to learn. But mainly to fullfil two old dreams: master pvp (therefore Antica) and join Red Rose (therefore this application). Also, you do seem my kind of people: organization, standards, roleplay, events, history. I like to hunt and quest as much as I like to acquire day to day knowledge, and with so much yet to master it is quite boring to roam an almost empty road alone.
Story
The Night of the Fireflies
Once there was only a city, but that city grew bigger and bigger, larger and larger, and it became clear it was the capital of the Empire. Then small houses were built around the strong, almost unconquerable wall of the city, and eventually a village took form - Varilla.
Years passed and the Emperor concluded the Empire should expand. War was declared, men were recruited, blacksmith were forging day and night to supply the army. In the line of old men and young boys taken from Varilla, there was a young boy called Leodd. He was tall for his age, but he had few muscles and wasn't in shape. He was also terrorized. His family always managed to supply their sons without having to make them work thanks to the mill they owned, so he knew very little of the hardships life brings along.
From the end of the line a guard yelled: "Start walking scum! Your train starts now!".
Leodd looked around only to see other young boys like him with the same expression of fear and old men with a resigned look on their face.
The walk to the training camp took them all day, and when they got there Leodd's weak resistance gave up on him and he just fell into the muddy soil.
"Raise up!" - A soldier commanded. "Rise or die, fat worm!" He said while withdrawing his club from his belt, an ugly black weapon with spikes and blood remains.
Slowly with the strong, steel will of the Varillians, Leodd rose enough for the soldier to get away only mocking him, probably into the tent where all the soldiers gathered.
Deep in the cold night, laying in an old stinky blanket, the fool from the village saw his dreams going down the pit. The good life without having to work hard for a day, the beautiful wife to spoil him, the long and rich life he would have. All scattered in the wind, to leave only the stench that war leaves behind, blood, sweat and death.
It was then, as a tear ran from his eye throughout his face, that he saw a shiny golden dot in the middle of the forest. Then another one. And another. Soon a huge amount of dots rose together, giving the idea that they could blow the darkness away and lighten up the night. Leodd was too afraid, too tired and too depressed to walk there and check what was making all that light, so he tried to get as comfortable as possible and with tired and sad eyes fell asleep looking into the light that lit the dark.
The real training started the next day. And everyday Leodd would be mocked, beat, spit on, and eventually just had to crawl back to his blanket, if nobody had the idea of making him serve an higher ranked warrior trough the night. Every night he looked into the dark and imagined the golden lights standing up to the pitch black night.
He survived though. After the first year nobody mocked him for his appearance any more. After the second year few were able to beat him with any weapon. And his soft skin became strong as leather, his lack of resistance and overweight young forms gave place to a muscled young man with a strong look and two handed sword on his back.
Nobody knows when the training camp he was in was called to the front line. But they were. And Leodd amongst them, experienced the truth about death and terror. For the second time in his life there was nothing between him and the darkness and he felt that falling would be easier than standing and fighting the night with his sword.
When in the middle of the skirmish he fell to his knees, an arrow piercing his shoulder, an axe cut going from his left chest plate to his right abdomen and a fearsome enemy in front of him, he did not think of raising his sword or dodging the attack.
"So this is how it ends, eh? It was suicidal to try and win against such a big army. Quite easier than the last years. I wonder what happened to everyone at the village. I was such a fool... Still am... Getting in a war... Killing or getting killed. Deciding about people's lives and how they should live it, that is something only the gods should decided". Looking around for the last time before the man swung his axe, Leodd saw a glowing golden light. And then another one. And another one. And as the light rose to the night, his sword rose to meet his enemy. A new hope. To live. Just to live. No matter where, how or when. To remain alive. To stay alive and shine, even if for just one more second, to shine as he wanted, not as others told him. To shine as a warrior, not as meat pack to feed his enemies, his allies, his king.
Using all the skill and strength he had left, he fought until dawn, cutting trough men, armour, shielding and horses. Until his giant sized sword was drenched in blood and he could not get off the ground.
Against all odds the Empire won that battle, against enemies far surpassing their numbers. A tale of a Black Swordsman also rose.
"A giant over two meters, with a sword surpassing his hight, his armour drenched in dark dry blood was dark as the night, only some golden sparkles were visible each time he killed one more man, as he cut trough metal, flesh and bone" the simple people said. And so the story went on.
Years passed, battle after battle Leodd fought to live one more second, to survive as he wanted to keep on living free as an animal on the wild.
At last, on the tenth year of the cursed expansion the Emperor started, peace was achieved. The Empire added a small useless country to its borders and avoided a total disaster, while the dangerous, resistant enemies stayed apart, licking the wounds the Empire cut trough them.
Leodd was free. A character from a story the villagers liked to tell around a warm fire, but eventually believed to be as truth as fairies and dragons, thanks to all the overworked details of his appearance such as his height.
Two moons after the piece contract, Leodd stood foot out of the boat that brought him to the capital. It was already twilight but he went on to his home village, to live as he wanted to. Not a free loader, lazy boy, but a veteran of war, strong, deathly and capable of protecting and helping everyone with his arms.
When the night came down he reached Varilla. There was nothing left but ruined building and wild animals. From the burned rocks, broken weapons and growing vegetation, Varilla was another casualty of the war years ago. The years he fought and killed.
Standing on his knees, with the night involving him, there was nothing else to live for. The pitch black end of the village's well looked good enough. He knelt, now in front of the well, looking into the bottom nobody could perceive. No more worries, no more conscious, no more hurting innocents, making people suffer. Getting ready to dive he took a last look around the forest he grew in, on the other side of the village. But no lights came to save him. Only trees, centuries old, looked back at him. Nothing lit the dark this time.
A smile showed up on his face. He could lit the dark, he just had to fight it first. If the darkness is dark and deep enough then only one small flame could light miles. He laughed again and taking his sword on his shoulders ran into the dark, pitch black night. To try and lit a small flame of hope.
Anything else
What I would consider to be the most negative point in me is my lack of time. I have a relatively busy real life. My attempts to manage it have been successfull across the years, and I have been an active player for quite some time. What I want to say is that sometimes, time makes me unavailable, but never to forget.
