Applications.

[Twinblades713]

I don't know if it's a faux pas to ask such a thing, but I was wondering if I could use this thread to gather a series of Qrace/Qclass applications that have been accepted. I don't believe this would be a tool to copy, as it will refresh in the minds of immortals what's been used and how exactlly it could be copied. I for one, am genuinely curious as to what people have used, how others have written stylistically. Because the apps I've written for fun to see how well I could do all seem rather similar. If we shouldn't be sharing these (though I don't see a problem with it) an imm can shut this down.

[Twinblades713]

As I started the thread, I'll share first my app that I used to get my Demon Perniciant. It was from two angles, the mortal shell and the demon who inhabited.

***A scroll of flesh, scribed in scars reads***

When consuming the souls and the minds of mortals, it is often a tedious process finding a good host. The insane, the berserkers, the maniacs, all too often wear down their bodies and their souls and once inhabited, make for shattered hosts capable of much less than desirable. Mages, the casters of these lands all too often desire control over their surroundings and inevitably would desire control in a relationship with a demon, which while it is not hard to quash their weak minds, their potential cannot be realized with such resistance. Even the pious are not perfect choices, for their one-tracked minds on an Immortal they believe to have more power than Malchaeius distracts from my goal. This is where I have found the perfect host. This boy, alone and afraid, has been swayed to offer prayers to Malchaeius in an attempt to cure his “unidentifiable” illness, which I have so cleverly crafted in his mind. His fear causes hatred in him, his perceived helplessness causes indignation. But he is ultimately empty, and I am his cure. His emotions are virtually naught, but his skill will surprisingly lend itself to my purpose: To destroy the normality of this world, and release chaos as it’s overdue guiding force.

*** As you finish reading the last word, the scroll bubbles in green blotches and melts away***

*** A second scroll arrives and looks rather normal, save a few phlegm blotches that have been hastily rubbed at***

I have been contacted by someone. . . someone who promised they could help me. I don’t have friends, but Anume helped me realize that I never will. Everyone here is bad. They all hate me. . . and they all hurt me, and I think I hate them too. They say they are nice, but they are all liars. I hide, and they find me. I run and they chase me. I just want them to go away, but screaming doesn’t help. I can make them sick, and I like to make them sick, because then they leave me alone. But it’s not enough. This person who talked to me from the shadows will be my friend. He can help me get better, and he will. They won’t hurt me anymore once he’s with me. Let him be with me. Please.

***This scroll however. . . just sits there once you finish reading***

[Mali]

I'll follow suit with a very quirky psionicist application that was accepted after some time.

The Dosidicus squid, upon reaching adulthood, ultimately seeks to return to the oceans for spawning. The gathering of the many for this wondrous occasion is not only an instinctual physical need, but also a milestone in the mental development of those who survive the journey into the deepest waters of the Dragon sea.

Having spent years within the tanks of the illithid hive and more years still scouting the lands for its brethren, the Dosidicus squid embarked from the Miruvhor wharf in order to join the many in the dark city beneath the waves. The rough and salty seas required a total abandonment of the heavy human equipment it had masqueraded in for some time.

The seasonal changes that signify spawning season are not unique to the many, and several predators of the squid return to the seas at this time. The large whales swallow thousands of the young in their effort to stop the gathering. Similarly, the dracodolphins and megalosharks seek the flesh and the knowledge that the squid carry within their blood. The death tolls are large, but what are the few to the many? They are nothing, and have proven too weak to survive to the next level.

Despite these dangers, the Dosidicus squid survived the journey into the deep waters of the dragon sea. Its efforts in the land of Aabahran pleased the many, and it was allowed to join the spawn within the great city of Rkatgrendstram.

The spawn is not only a physical task of creation, but requires an effort of the mind so intense as to alter the very nature of the Dosidicus squid brain. It is a test of passage, and those whom participate link with the mind of the many and are privileged to witness the dreams of the ancient.

Dosidicus has grown, spawned, and returned to the shores. In the act of linking to the ancient many in their brief awakening, it has seen the weakness of the guild of Necromancers. It has started to lose the weak magics stored in its memory in favor of the greater power within. Yet this power has yet to be nurtured. It will take time and meditation for Dosidicus to truly grasp what it has seen within the deepest waters. Meanwhile, the dreams of the ancient many - experienced for only a fleeting moment - burn within its brain like the fires of hell.

[Celerity]

A long time ago I left my secure home in Shasarazade on a journey to enlist in the halls of Hope in Val Miran. In those days, I was a pacifist in nothing but actions. My differing words reached the ears of many of the zealous followers of the Light and they were influenced to aggressively work for the betterment of my ideals. Even though I served in Hope, my ideals were quite different than those followed by Knight and I actively questioned their decisions. In the end, my line of thinking was disastrous, almost bringing the Knights of the Crown into a full-scale war with most of the known world.

After returning from an ill-fated trip through the Void, I quickly made my way back into the service of the Knights of the Crown. My magic now perfected, I was able draw fully upon the full power of the Vortex. I did so, all in the name of the Knights. Through my actions and words, I quickly became a prominent Oracle, on par with even Lord Thandaeus. In these days, the armies of Nexus were routed. Their gateways faltered, and their generals fled. Then something changed. A man came. His name was Krundil.

The man was intelligent. He could see through my many strategies and plots and seemed to always come up with the perfect counter. Krundil skillfully maneuvered the Knights, through propaganda, curses, and power, into a position of near helplessness. At his peak of power, he was able to break directly into the treasury of the Castle with the aid of an unnamed traitor. His power thus established, he played his final card. The actions and reactions that followed resulted in the deaths of many in Val Miran. It was another disaster. It is funny how life tends to repeat itself.

Now that we have arrived to the present, it is time to head once more back into the distant past. While it may seem absurd to you that an arch-mage such as me once displayed no aptitude for magic, it is quite true. I defied my father, Count Oda, and devoted myself fully into the study of arms. During this training, it was discovered that I held a gift for divination; that is to predict the future. During the intensive training that ensured, it was discovered that I held no gift after all, and it was simply misjudgment. The depression that followed and my flight from my father’s care is what started my path down the road of invocation.

My excellent strength in magic has made me into the very thing I had wished to avoid: a combatant. My life becomes increasingly violent. Even now, it is expected by all, save Lord Belegriel perhaps, that I answer to threats with spells of the elements and destruction, not with my wits and foresight. Therefore, I have decided to end my role of death-bringing and petition to join the halls of the Psionicists. I understand that I will sacrifice much power in this transition, perhaps making me an easy target for all those that seek retribution. I am glad for it. The Knights will surely be weakened significantly without my aid, but they must be allowed to grow unto their own strength. I only hope that they understand that this weakness will perhaps bring a solution to their endless worries. There must be one that will stop this endless cycle of death and chaos, and I will be one to attempt it.

-Lady Sachi Oda the Holy Inquisitor, Oracle of the Crown, Void Traveler, Arch-Mage of Invocation, Heiress to Count Oda, among many other titles

[Pali]

I do not write to you today with some sad story that while meant

to inspire pity only inspires disgust. In a sense, my tale is

far more pure. I do not disguise myself nor my intentions. I

seek power, both personal and political. My ambition has been

the driving force in my life. In my childhood, I entered every

athletic competition possible, winning money, prizes, and most

importantly respect. I joined a large Miruvhor gang known as

the Soldiers of Chayesh when I was fifteen, and by the time I

was eighteen I ruled over twelve blocks, but it wasn't enough.

There was a hunger inside me that life in the Soldiers could not

sate. I knew that there was a great limit to what I could do

as a member, that as a Soldier it was impossible for me to reach

my true potential. At twenty, I officially left the Soldiers,

though they still regard me as a brother when I walk the streets

of Miruvhor.

Six months after I left the Soldiers, I ended up pounding on the

door of the Rheydin monastery, badly wounded and with so little

blood left in me that my skin was as white as cotton. I was

travelling with the regular caravan from Val Miran to Rheydin,

when goblin raiders caught us in the foothills of the Dragon's

Teeth. I believe I was the only survivor, though I did not care

to stop and find out. The monks agreed to feed me and tend my

wounds, and I spent the next three weeks living among them. I

was impressed with their focus, with their clarity of thought,

and with their control over their bodies. I knew that I needed

to learn their secrets for myself. When I was healed, I asked

the brothers to allow me to join them and learn from them. They

reluctantly agreed, once I promised that I would use my influence

with the Soldiers of Chayesh to stop the gang's usual demand for

"protection" fees from any of the monks on a pilgrimage through

Miruvhor.

I spent three and a half years among the monks, learning their

arts and techniques, before my progress hit a wall. Further

strength could only be gained outside the monastery, and so my

ambitions demanded that I leave. In the months since I have spent

fighting and training, perfecting my skills and gaining new ones.

Yet even through all of this, even though I am stronger a hundred-

fold than I was as a Soldier, my desires have never been met. No,

instead they have grown even faster than my skills have. I hunger

not for food, but to have cities kneel at my feet. I desire not

the pleasures of the flesh, but the pleasure of holding the fate

of others in the palm of my hand. Unfortunately, to reach such

a position is obviously not an easy task, and it is not a task to

be accomplished alone. More to the point, it is a task that I

seek your aid in accomplishing. I do not pretend to be one of the

mindlessly devout, seeking your approval like a dog trying to make

his master happy. Instead, I know full well what this request

entails. I ask you to bless me with eternal Unlife, to grant me

the strength to take what I desire in this world. What you would

demand from me in return is not something I presume to know, but

whatever the price, I am willing to pay it. If you do not trust

my word, speak with one of the Soldiers of Chayesh in Miruvhor's

black market. They will vouch for me.

Vhalen

[Guest emp_newb]

Boo, I like this thread, but am at work and cannot contribute any of my applications, I will GLADLY post some of them when I get home. My apps always feel similar, until I read them hehe. Some I write as stories, like maerothir's crusader app was more of a story than an application. And some are near demanding, phaiges undead app. Im gonna post some restring, and qrace apps when I get home

[HBwillie]

Aww Cel, I loved Sachi!

[Reccum]

The young can not help but be foolish. The inexperienced have no

wisdom to draw from when it comes to decision making, but some are

luckier than others. Everyday I thank Chayesh for sparing my life and

keeping me alive in a profession that was synonymous with death. A

soldier is brave but stupid, eager to serve, to show off his skills,

and often quick to die. I saw a lot of death on the battlefield,

bodies severed by blades and by magic.

It can be shocking at first to witness a brother in arms torn limb

from limb, but it is amazing how quickly ones senses are dampened to

the most feared moment in life, death. Soon I began to expect it and

in my time of service I could not even count how many lives were lost

before my very eyes, both friends and foes.

I could not say how many had fallen before I began to see them, but

surely it was hundreds at least. It was as if my eyes had adjusted to

death like they do to darkness, finally allowing me to see what was

really there. I saw souls, some moving slowly, others faster yet, all

escaping their once mortal coils. I was in awe, what a blessing from

above to be granted such sight, the ability to watch the lost ghosts

as they were torn from their dwelling and sent off in to the

unforgiving night.

It was after I began to see them that I left my service and found

solace in the study of the mystical. I abandoned my soldier post and

began anew, a life combining the art of combat with the spiritual. I

found comfort in the hall of blademasters, those truly dedicated to

the bond of mind and steel, of body and spirit. I found myself

questioning life and death, not just freeing souls but also following

their path. I have become obsessed with the afterlife and what it

means, and so I began to inquire.

In my journey I have spoken to healers and shamans alike, necromancers

and non-believers. It would seem everyone has an opinion on what

happens to a soul once released. Where does it go I wonder, is it

aware, can it come back, there has been evidence to answer my

questions. Those who follow Chayesh speak of the great pyre, where

souls worthy of my Lord and Master are bound. I have been told the

lesser Gods sometimes grant their devout multiple chances at life,

purging the soul and allowing it re-entry into a rejuvenated body.

Others talk of damned souls which wander the lands and are cursed to

do so until they fulfil some prophecy while others yet are captured by

dark magic and have their power harnessed to be used at any whim of

their captor.

So many outcomes, so many possibilities, it is unnerving for a mere

ex-soldier turned mercenary to wonder what will happen when his soul

is finally freed. Have I served his greatness to my potential? Perhaps

if I prove my worth to my Lord he can grant my soul a sacred place for

all eternity. I feel as though I have lived and died a thousand times

through others, my morbid curiosity has turned to paranoia. I pray that

Chayesh will look upon me with favour and speak to me through one of his

trusted disciples. My Lord, let us make a pact, I will release to you my

soul for safe keeping and in return I will forever be your servant, free

of worry, free of desire, filled only with your bidding.

-Sverenox

[Teralis]

Awww Cel she wasnt exactly a traitor hehe was she? Awsome app though, I left right after that did Sachi get Psi?

[Deykari]

Pamiyn

app to Immortal

app subject Avatar application - A study of Purity


The ideals of Purity are interesting in that how they are

interpretated differs between those who claim to understand,

and believe, in these ideals.


At the base level, are those believe that to follow Purity,

is to allow their righteous moral compass to lead them. A

base belief that evil is wrong and to be destroyed, and that

an inherently good nature is the way. Whilst often this moral

compass does fall in line with the ideals of Purity, that is

not what Purity is.


Purity is at the core of a set of beliefs, focusing upon

bloodshed, moreso than compassion. The goal of the Purist

is to weed out the root of all evil, and eradicate it from

existance. This definition of evil however, is defined by

the Lord, Lord Irumeru. To believe in Purity, is to believe

that Lord Irumeru is righteous and true, and that his word is

to be followed to the very death.


The zealot understands that their place is as a puppet to the

cause - Lord Irumeru commands and it is to be done.


The zealot understands that if Lord Irumeru commands them to

slaughter a horde of Elven children, they are ignore what their

own moral compass may be telling them, for Lord Irumeru is

righteous and true.


The true zealot does not possess moral compass, for they are

the mortal extension of Lord Irumeru's arm. The true zealot

cuts a path into the heart of evil through tides of Purity's

enemies mercilessly and without remorse, knowing that to carry

out Lord Irumeru's will without even having the ability to even

think about possibily having one's own thoughts interfere, is to

be righteous and true in the name of Purity.


I, Pamiyn of the Night-elves, found myself inducted into the

Inquisitor's sect of the Paladins guild due to the qualities I

exhibited. My true understanding of what I preach, of what I

believe leads me to hold rank of Supreme Inquisitor. I live and

breathe your very name and without hesitation, would take the

lives of the loved ones I hold dear to me and myself, at your

command, knowing that deep down my actions are true, and

righteous...


...for you would not command it if that was not so.


Pamiyn, Supreme Inquisitor. 

Heiqen:

Medical Journal Ed. 38              Author:  Dr. Vikktorrint


60th of Death (Winter) 1018 PC


------------------------------------------------------------




The True Disease, the True Doctor




For years and years in Aabahranian medical history, devout


healers have studied diseases and infections, spending time


analysing the affects of these maledictions and attempting to


pray for their removal from the stricken victims. Why is the


real disease ignored, in this regard?




I am Dr. Heiqen Vikktorrint, renowned in the medical profession


for my extensive study of pressure points and creature anatomy. 


My work has been criticised by many who I have turned away, when


they have visited for help, however - "Why do you not use your 


expertise to ease suffering?"




What they do not realise, is that I AM easing suffering. The


suffering of a magnificent natural Cycle that is broken down


with these meddling healers, preserving life when it should be


taken. The pyre that fuels the Cycle of Death.




Like any good doctor that sees suffering, I will attempt to rectify


the issue. Scalpel in the left hand, syringe and hypodermic needle in 


the right, I shall operate on the Cycle by removing the virus that


infects it - the living. 




Is it not hypocrisy for me to be saying all this, whilst I myself,


am a living, breathing entity? If I truly believed in what I do,


would I not take my own life also? I am too one of the infections


that plagues the Cycle, no better than the rest. Blessed with the


view I possess, I now look to the Heavens, to the God of Death.


Relieve me from hypocrisy and relieve the Cycle by taking my life,


but please, allow me to exist in the ranks of the Undead, as the


surgeon that will resuscitate this Cycle.




Dr. Heiqen Vikktorrint

Pamiyn's app is the furthest back of the apps I have. Lost my other ones, for Samaet, Wymsicant etc.

EDIT: I lie, just found this one for Enellelisell, the Lethargic Sickly Faerie.

012345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456789




app to Immortal


app subject Application to learn the teachings of the Psi guild




app + With every passing day, as the affects of my hex weave in and


app + out of it's dormant state, I struggle. Basic physical actions


app + turn to feats of incredible concentration and effort. I have


app + exhausted almost every possible method of removing this hex, or


app + it's affects, to no avail. Almost, every method.


app + 


app + The hex is a result of months of strife between two competing


app + stores within Val Miran. One of them, owned and run by my 


app + guardians. The other, run by a callous, cold character who


app + cared more about his purse than his customers. Naturally, this


app + earned my guardian's store much more respect, and in turn, more


app + customers. Month after month, profit soared, and so in spite,


app + the competition hired a shaman to place a hex upon both of my


app + guardians. The hex would, over time, drain their energy to the


app + point where deep lethargy and fatigue would make them much more


app + tired, stressed and in turn, hostile towards customers. The long


app + term affects were not anticipated however, and the end result was


app + the continual draining of energy until eventually, they passed.


app + 


app + Even longer term still, the affects were still not anticipated.


app + Under the same household at the time of passing, it appears that


app + somehow, the curse was passed to myself, albeit it in a weaker


app + form, and so this hex continues to live in inside myself.


app + 


app + Since that time, I have searched far and wide for a way to relieve


app + the affects of this curse. Most recently, I found hope in the study


app + of time, to perhaps reverse the affects, but one problem remains -


app + a true understanding of this area requires a lifetime, and that is 


app + time I may well not have. Yet. 


app + 


app + Then I heard of Snivelis Bentgear.


app + 


app + With as much gusto as I could summon, I set about attempting to


app + learn about this fellow and the teachings of the Psionicist. I have


app + found hope in somehow unlocking the secrets of the mind, and the 


app + ability to focus entirely on it's mysterious powers without focusing


app + on draining physical matters - I may well be able to prolong my life. 


app + Perhaps with complete mental freedom, I could explore the affects of 


app + the hex within my mind, pick it apart within my own head, and relieve


app + myself completely.


app + 


app + It is with this note then, that I wish to be considered as a candidate


app + to this exlusive school of teaching.


app + 


app + Thank you,


app + 


app + Enellelisell Enessesiless.

Dey

[Guest emp_newb]

I loved fighting enellelisell when I was Gogrash hehe. So much that I would cast a few mals, and not curse just to see what you said next. I actually snorted while smoking when your only tell back was panting and wheezing

[Deykari]

Enellelisell hated Gogrash. The only person that could take somebody with a heartbeat already almost low enough to be considered dead, and make the situation even worse.

Dey

[Guest emp_newb]

Also, I dug up Maerothirs sader app

here was a time in which fear ruled my heart. Fear of loss, fear of 

death. Fear that I would never become what my family had desired of me.

Yet in a single moment, all of this was forever wiped from my mind. 

Never again could fear ever dictate my actions. Never again could I 

grow weak when danger neared. To live without fear is impossible, but

through The One I can rise above my fears. I can conquer my self doubt

to journey on a greater path. Never before have I felt that I have a

real purpose beyond my day to day life. It all began during my youth.

I was an apprentice to Gildaras, master forgeman of the Griffon legion. 

Unrivaled in his talent in the forge, he is why I chose to enter the 

military. He could make a tool of death look as beautiful as the sun

rising over the fog covered valley of my ancestors. Only months into 

my apprenticeship we were deployed to the mountains north of Rheydin. 

All was well for several months, until winter begain to set in. With

our warmth coming from the idle fires, and half empty tankards, our

morale was slowly waning. It was then the heretics struck. Wielding

weapons tainted with vile magic, and spouting blasphemous curses of 

dark gods. We lost many in the initial wave, before we could properly

form ranks. We sent several men, including myself, to the main legion

for reinforcements. Upon our return the fighting was nearly done. 

Many Demons, minotaurs, and foul creatures lay dead. Yet many elves 

had also been lost in the attack. Though my master had fought bravely,

he was never a master of what he created. He was wounded beyond the 

abilities of the attatchments clerics. The poison set into the blades 

had worked through him too far. He asked only for a brew to settle his

rattled nerves, so he could make peace before he met judgement. In the

final moments of his life he did two things. The first was to close my

hand around a tiny ingot of unforged metal, revealing this was the 

first piece of metal he had ever sought to forge. The second was to 

apologize to god that he was unable to protect his children when he 

was needed the most. I heard his prayer, and was touched deeply by the

selflessness of his words. He spoke with honesty untouched by the 

ravages about him. He asked nothing for himself. My choice was made.

Never again would I place myself above any other in the lands. Never

would I allow the safety of the masses be threatened by the actions of

blasphemous sinners. Striking from my heart all desire from personal 

gain, I chose to lead a life for The Church. Dreams haunted my sleep

for months after the attack. Til one night I was given the power to 

cut back the fear in my heart. I was shown a weapon that no creature 

of darkness could ever taint, or break. Love was given back to me. My

master appeared to me, holding a massive blade the likes of which I 

had never seen. A scene of war depicted on it, yet it shone with a 

glimmer akin to the stars in a clear night sky. As I reached out to

touch it I was jolted from my sleep. A cold sweat had settled on my 

brow. Since the time of this battle I have lived only for The One. 

Only in his name do I strike. Only in his honor do I live. Now I ask

the only favor I will ever request of God. Allow me to forge the 

blade of my dream, the Fullblade. It is with the most humble of minds

that I request entry to the Order of Crusades. To learn their ways. 

Both in the lives of the people around me, and on the field where I 

defend them. In your name I pray God.


Maerothir Nolatari

Also, I dug up Maerothirs sader app