nopateoamateo
Member
OOC Section
Minecraft Username: nopateoamateoDiscord Username: hyp_node
How did you hear about us?(Referral Bonus): pmc
Are you at or above the age of 18, and do you understand that this is an 18+ community?: Yes, yes
Have you read over and agree to our rules?: Yes
Please rewrite OOC Rule #2 in your own words: Discrimination, that is the unjust treatment of another player on grounds of race, religion, sex, sexuality, or ethnicity, etc., in any official servers will result in a ban.
In your own words, describe the following:
Metagaming: Utilising OOCly gained knowledge or information, transmitted through off-server, out of roleplay means, in roleplay to any effect whatsoever. These may be mechanical features, such as looking at nametags, parkouring through walls, or punching players off ledges, but may also be features of roleplay, such as the knowledge that one character is secretly a murderer, or other such roleplay-illegitimate advantages.
Powergaming: Powergaming is the unfair augmentation of a character's capabilities in order to ensure a player's desired outcome from a particular encounter, regardless of the actual capabilities and the context the encounter and character holds within the wider narrative. For instance, a human lifting a boulder set to crush them, because the player does not want them to die.
Character Name: Siegmund
Character Age: 31
A gentle, albeit putrid breeze wafted thickly into Siegmund's nose. The cart he walked alongside bumped, and bumped, all matter of wares and trinkets clinking and banging beneath a cloth veil. His employer looked on, paranoid, glancing sidelong at every obfuscated alley and stall as if all of Sanctuary sought to rob him of his worthless, vain baubles and jewels. He felt the boots beneath him wear, slightly, a small dip in the sole near his heel serving as a pestering reminder of his equipment's age, amplified twicefold by the rough brittle shaft of his ash spear. No multitude of callouses could keep the splinters out his palms. Hopefully, though, one more pay day was all he would need to invest in himself. Though much more at ease with his surroundings than the merchant, Siegmund kept a wary eye still. At the passing of every bazaar, he would squint, every motion and every glint of metal rousing some suspicion in the aging sellsword. Too long he had wandered these streets to be naive, and to give them the benefit of the doubt. He knew, of course, that all it took was a band of naiad saltskins to surge out from under a bridge and his client would come tumbling down. Alas, there was no need for the merchant to know this, nor of any of his worries, so onward he shuffled alongside the cart across grimy cobble.
