Tale of Banners
Tale of Banners
Section 1/4 - Out of Character InformationMinecraft Username(s):
Full UUID for your Minecraft account(s):
What is your age?
Have you read the server rules?
Do you agree with the server rules?
How did you hear about Tale of Banners?
GreenHarmony is a dear friend of mine and he’s told me about this place a few times before. I got curious and while sneaking around the forums I was reeled in both by the lore and neat, low-fantasy setting!
Do you have any previous roleplay experience?
I have roleplayed on other servers before and with friends over table-top games.
None I can think of.
Section 2/4 - Terms & DefinitionsPlease answer these definitions using your own words, the definitions may be researched however not plagiarized (copy-pasted).
What do you define as roleplaying?
Roleplaying is, like the word in itself suggests, taking on the role of a character and acting out their emotions, thoughts, actions, etc... I like to imagine it as a theatre play of sorts, except you don’t have any scripted lines to follow; everything happens on the spot!
Describe the term ‘powergaming’ in your own words:
Powergaming is playing in a way that forces everything, even things out of your control, to bend to your will and better serve your narrative. For instance, role playing out a character’s actions that is not your own would be a form of powergaming.
Describe the term ‘metagaming’ in your own words:
Metagaming is using outside or secret knowledge that your character would have no way of knowing to decide their actions. Similar to powergaming, it is done for the purpose to benefit them/their arc.
What is a "Mary-Sue" character?:
A Mary-Sue is a character that is infallible in every way, to the point where they do not have any downfalls OR even their “faults” are either romanticised or crafted in a way to aid them. I have experienced players using the same “faulty” card over and over again in order to garner the centre of attention ad nauseam. More often than not, Mary-Sues are the ultimate form of self-insert.
What does the abbreviation ‘OOC’ mean & when should this be used?
OOC stands for Out Of Character, meaning you are not portraying the character’s speech or actions in that moment. It is used when you would like to say something outside of RP!
Section 3/4 - Character CreationHere you will create an example character that could exist in the server’s history and lore.
Provide us with an in-game screenshot of your character’s skin.
Can your character read and write?:
Having grown up within a monastery, she can read Tehn texts, but struggles with writing and avoids it unless strictly necessary.
Story & Biography
Chosposi’s story is a difficult one and, as many difficult stories are, it is one filled with promise. But, this begs the question: on which side of the scale will it be left unfulfilled?
All begins by the roots of a lone, baobab-like tree in the sweltering expanse of the Kharman dunes. One morning a band of monks, who declare the tree to be sacred, are heading out to perform their morning rituals. To their horror, they find that a woman has been hung by one of its branches while an infant cries by its feet, closed tightly within a jute sack. They take the small one back into their monastery, in fear this was some kind of warning, and raise her to become a fellow nun. She will grow into a fond woman following the divine Teachings of Tsarra.
Chosposi’s upbringing is uneventful. She never learns of her mother’s fate, instead believing she was pulled from the warm sand by the hands of Mother Tsarra herself. Her days are to be ruled over by her duties at the monastery, where she studies the few sacred texts that remain in the abbey’s possession, and becomes particularly skilled in the sciences of ancient herbal medicine.
It is a relatively prominent but peaceful settlement for the suppressed Shari race, carved into the safety of the rocky, desert outcrops. The abbey is a substantial source of food for the people living below and Chosposi would descend along down the village every day or so, handing out rations and curing all that cried for her help. She denies no one, not even the lowest of the skevi. Thus, Sister Chosposi becomes, in the eyes of the townsfolk, a kind of saintly figure; an exemplary proof of Tsarra’s goodness.
Tragically, the settlement is violently pillaged and whatever in the monastery is worth stealing is stolen, while whatever can burn is set ablaze-- though Chosposi manages to escape with the help of another monk, she will return here in her darkest dreams, trying to retrieve the irretrievable. Grasping desperately for whatever sacred texts they manage to salvage, the two set off into the unforgiving heat of the deserts.
After long days of nearly caving into the never-ending dunes, a group of Korsian merchant-riders circle them in their black, bejeweled steeds. She can’t put up much of a fight when her fellow monk pushes her forward in vain attempts to save himself, and her parched throat can make no sound when they bound her and tear away her beloved writings. As they take her and the other monk back to their capital to make a penny in the slave trade, the Shari nun asks herself why her Mother Tsarra would abandon her like this. Why her, of all divinity, who should know this very exact pain of having all you knew stripped from you. This marks the beginning of the end of Chosposi’s faith.
It turns out, no one wants a heretic witch that steals your finery and spits in your face as a chambermaid. Through a dreadful string of buyers, parlous acts of defending her life on the Korsian streets and innumerous godless events, the only man who manages to put up with her (or perhaps, just like herself, is too proud to give into defeat) is an Oserian Steward. At this point, she becomes his hush-hush medic along with several other Drahl slaves for curing his henchmen and militia. She watches with bitter fire in her gut as the other natives pray to her Mother every night, and she knows she will eventually run away from here too. But Chosposi comes out at the end of it all just as she began; orphaned and with no one and nowhere to turn to.
What is she to do now, if all Tsarra is, is for naught?
Section 4/4 - Open-ended questionsPlease answer at least three of the questions to show how your character would interact with the world. Delete the spares (if applicable). Please include at least one paragraph for each question you answer.
> You stumble outside into the open air after some heavy drinking in an Oserian tavern. Just before you're about to pass an alleyway, a hooded man rushes out of it and runs for it - seemingly, he has both a blade and some jewellery on him. You take a quick peek in the alleyway to see a feminine figure collapsed on the ground, holding her hands over a bleeding wound in her torso. The thief is about to escape and the woman seems in critical condition. You...
...stumble to the woman immediately, hoping not to fall over anything or trip over your own feet in the alley! After all your years of practicing ancient curative sciences, it’s not in your humanity but in your desperate nature to save the wounded. Perhaps, it is that in your drunken state, this all hits too close to home. Whatever it may be, and given the gritty circumstances, this one seems a little out of your hands for any immediate solution, but you focus through the swirling blur to stop the bleeding and take her somewhere more crowded to gather aid. The thief will get away but you find peace in knowing someday, like us all, he too will meet his fate.
> You've gotten lost and wandered awhile into Drahl lands, eventually finding yourself in Crookmire Swamp, where you decide to settle for the night. Finding a meal to buy for the evening takes some effort, but you do come across an old crone in ragged clothing, who offers to sell you some sea-looking food. She doesn't ask much, but warns you that eating it is 'unpleasant' to outsiders. You…
...suspiciously accept to buy the meal off her. You’re no great hunter. However, the slippery thing will undergo some serious inspection before it goes anywhere near your mouth. You may both be Drahl by name, but in truth you are like two entirely different races, and you’ve been deceived all too many times to trust even your own kin. That is all the more reason to take the opportunity to ask her questions about herself, about the Crookmire: you haven’t come across anyone thus far, and knowing is key for survival.
> In the midst of battle, you find yourself approaching a wounded enemy soldier. The soldier is on the floor, clearly in terror as they cradle one of the dead. Enemy forces begin to advance in the distance and you know you have to act fast. The soldier then grasps at a cloth and removes it from the dead soldiers pocket. They continue to cry, and start calling the dead soldier's name in despair. Then the soldier glances up to see you - with your weapon up - but does not care of your approach, continuing to cradle the dead soldier. You…
...let your hand falter a moment. Chosposi, you may have come to hate this enemy with all the fire in your belly, but you remember, don’t you? You could never unhear the screams of your kindred monks and nuns, of the children and mothers, of your own people, when your settlement was pillaged and butchered raw. You still see them everywhere, in everyone, for your corpse may have escaped that place but you never will. You must run for now, Chosposi, run far from this battle as you did then; for any other day you would’ve taken this enemy’s misfortune to your advantage, but you swear you never meant to kill.
Thank you very much for reading!
Thank you very much for reading!