Character Appication: Zeke Morrin

[ZekeMorrin]

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem? If so, please detail when (and what characters, if desired) you previously played:
I have not.

How did you hear about Requiem?
Many years ago I discovered some Ultima Online shards called as Age of Avatars and Grimmwold. They were so unique and RP intensive, I still remember them, but they are long gone. Just recently, I was searching if these developers made any new projects, I couldn’t find anything about it but I discovered this shard through Reddit while making my research.

CHARACTER QUESTIONS
(Please note: Staff is looking for at least three lore references in your application when reviewing.)

What will your character’s name be?
Zeke Morrin

Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:
Zeke Morrin, in his thirties, possesses a youthfully spry appearance that contradicts the harsh world around him. With tanned skin reflecting hours spent under the sun, he stands at an average height with a lean build. His most distinctive features are his brown, curly hair that seems to defy the desolation and a pair of keen brown eyes that hint at both resilience and a spark of creativity. Though not imposing, his hands bear the callouses of countless crafting hours, showcasing the labor of his artistic pursuits.

Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:
My character, Zeke Morrin, seeks entry into the First Province driven by a genuine passion for crafting and artistry. Uninterested in the political intrigues and power struggles of the outside world, Zeke believes that within the fallen territory, amidst the chaos and darkness, lies an opportunity to uncover forgotten arts and rare materials. His intention is not for personal gain or glory but to contribute his creative skills to the reclamation effort, hoping that the restoration of knowledge and artistry might hold a key to the salvation of the fractured world.

Please provide a few short paragraphs with pertinent details or notable qualities of your character’s history. This does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret:
In the shadow of a crumbling world, where the echoes of the Torment's devastation linger, there exists Zeke Morrin—a commoner in his thirties who bears the weight of time lightly upon his shoulders. Though the world around him is steeped in the turmoil of a fallen republic, Zeke's youthful appearance belies the depth of his experiences. With tanned skin that tells tales of hours spent under the sun and a head crowned with curly brown locks that seem to defy the desolation surrounding him, Zeke's appearance stands in contrast to the somber landscape.

Born to humble origins within the now fractured Venerated Republic, Zeke's life was molded not by the grandeur of the Church or the glory of the Legion but by the quiet whispers of inspiration that rustled through the realm of craftsmanship.

In the days when the once-mighty Republic descended into chaos, Zeke found solace not in the grand narratives of the Archangel's children but in the delicate dance of his own creations. Crafting and artistry became his sanctuary, a realm where the problems of the world were momentarily forgotten, replaced by the excitement of invention and the thrill of bringing something new into existence.

Zeke's hands bore the callouses of countless hours spent honing his craft, experimenting with materials salvaged from the ruins of a bygone era. Uninterested in the political intrigues or the desperate struggles for survival, Zeke's world revolved around the forge and the canvas. Each creation, be it a finely crafted piece of jewelry or a painting that captured the essence of a world unraveling, was a testament to his skill and an escape from the harsh realities outside his workshop.

The tales of the fallen First Province and its rumored treasures did not initially sway Zeke from his daily pursuits. However, whispers of ancient crafting techniques and lost artistic treasures hidden within the ruins began to intrigue him. The prospect of discovering forgotten arts and unlocking the secrets of the past sparked a newfound curiosity.

Driven more by the promise of uncovering rare materials and ancient artistic methods than by any grandiose sense of duty, Zeke Morrin, with his youthful visage and a head of untamed curls, embarked on a journey towards the fallen capital. His path, unlike that of the valiant knights or devout priests, was lined with the remnants of his creative endeavors—a portable workshop, sketches of his latest ideas, and a determination to turn the desolation into inspiration.

As Zeke weaves through the decaying landscapes, the fate of the world may hang in the balance, but for him, the journey is a canvas waiting to be painted, a forge where new crafts can be molded, and an opportunity to carve a mark on a world desperately clinging to its last fragments of beauty.

Praise be to the One True God, in Zeke Morrin's youthful hands, the artistry of creation may yet shine as a beacon in the encroaching darkness.

Please write a few short paragraphs of an in-character response to the following scenario:
As I stand amidst the hustle and murmur of the Rumbling Pass train-yards, my gaze fixates on the imposing outpost that guards the entrance to the quarantined First Province. The Legionnaires and Church Templar patrol diligently, their vigilant eyes scanning the crowd. The marvel of the passenger train adds an unexpected twist to the scene, a beacon of technological advancement in this desolate landscape.

The air is charged with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, and I can't help but wonder about the motives behind this seemingly organized effort to enter the First Province. It's a curious sight – an evacuation, or perhaps something more clandestine. The rumors about treasures and salvation echo in my mind, yet the truth remains elusive.

Approaching the officiant, I observe the disparate methods employed by those seeking entry. Some brandish official paperwork, others slip gold into the officiant's palm, while a few passionately plead their cases. The officiant's rehearsed speech rings out, explaining the stringent regulations imposed by the Venerated Church. As I weigh my options, I recognize that the path forward is uncertain.

My gaze narrows as I step forward, preparing to engage with the officiant. I ponder the legitimacy of obtaining a Quarantine Visa through proper channels versus the allure of a persuasive argument. Bribery seems a tempting route, though I am mindful of the potential cost. As I stand at the precipice of my decision, I take a breath and prepare to state my case.

"Officiant," I begin, my voice steady. "I come not as a bearer of lavish documents or gilded coins. My purpose is simple yet profound – a pursuit of knowledge and understanding within the fallen First Province. My craft is my offering, a skill that may contribute to the reclamation effort. In a world where chaos reigns, perhaps the restoration of knowledge and artistry holds a key to salvation. I seek entry not for selfish gain but for the betterment of our fractured world."

As the officiant looks at me with a hint of skepticism, I wonder if my words will be enough to sway him or if I must navigate the treacherous path of alternatives to step into the enigmatic First Province.

You have finally arrived at your destination; the Rumbling Pass train-yards. Before you stands a massive outpost, looking to have been erected within the past few years, of which is patrolled by numerous Legionnaires and Church Templar. The outpost guards the only viable entrance to the recently quarantined First Province; the home of Tor, the fallen capital of the Republic. Sitting at the foot of the massive mountain range that effectively contains the First Province within, the outpost serves as the last obstacle you must overcome before entering the quarantined territory.
You and others like you assemble outside of the palisades of the outpost, awaiting the opportunity to speak your case to the presiding Legion officiant who is processing admittance to the Province. Behind him, a passenger train, a marvel of technological advancement, sits idling on its’ tracks, dozens of persons filling it’s numerous passenger cars. A true rarity within the Republic, you can hardly believe your eyes (and ears) as the locomotive releases a massive plume of steam from its’ smokestack. You overhear many a bewildered citizen around you gossip as to how the only truly safe way into the Province is now by rail, for the Rumbling Pass’ mountains are nigh impassible and miles long, with the only safe navigable tunnels being those traveled in the safety of locomotives and rail-cars. You shudder for a moment, pondering how many forsaken souls attempted to flee the cloistered Province through the Pass’ winding, dark tunnels, hordes of Afflicted upon their heels, only to be cut down in the pitch-black darkness.
It strikes you as peculiar that so much effort has been made in securing a means of logistical supply and personnel transportation into the fallen First Province. You’ve heard rumors before of Quarantine Zones; entire Municipalities and even Territories being cut-off from access due to the blight of the Torment and the over-abundance of the walking dead – but in most instances, no one is ever trying to get into to those forsaken places. Yet here, mere miles from the ruins of Tor, masses congregate in order to make their way into the First Province Quarantine Zone. If you hadn’t known any better, the entire scene – the Outpost, the mass of military personnel, the throngs of citizens and the hissing locomotive – resembles more of an evacuation rather than a one-way ticket into anarchy and lawlessness. As you make your way closer to the train-yard outpost, you can’t help but recall all of the wild and crazy stories concerning all manners of rumors about the First Province since it’s fall two years ago. Some say that the treasures awaiting the bold are beyond measure – others swear that Salvation and Ascension is guaranteed for those who would follow their Faith and help reclaim the First Coast.
Where the truth lies, you’ve no idea – you only know that you’re here, at the precipice of it all, and your destination is within reach.
You watch, somewhat defeated, as but a scant few of the hundreds that approach the outpost officiant, who stands at the outer gates of the outpost flanked by a few heavily armored Legionnaires, are actually allowed to pass through the man-door and into the outpost and train-yards proper. You see some swarthy fellows slip pieces of gold to the officiant, while others plead their cases and rationale as to why they should be allowed to enter the recently fallen territory. Some appear to provide some sort of paperwork to the officiant, flashing official looking papers from a Faction or influential Prelacy house, who promptly waves them through. While watching and eavesdropping, you manage to overhear the well-rehearsed speech the officiant provides to those whom don’t provide paperwork or grease his palm, the words monotone and nasally.
“By decree of the Venerated Church, the First Province is a mortal health hazard, and as such, is quarantined under Article Eighteen of the Republic Treatise of Health Act of 1320. Citizens who do not possess a Quarantine Visa issued by one of the recognized Factions of the Republic are considered non-essential to the reclamation of the First Province. Under Article Eighteen, non-essentials seeking entry into an official quarantine zone must petition for entry into a said zone, and state just cause for the issuing of a Quarantine Visa by the perimeter authority.”
The officiant snorts in disdain, then adds the last line to the rehearsed monologue:
“State your business and make it quick, citizen; we’ve enough bodies in there to keep us busy for years without adding yours to the pile, and those VIC are stirring up problems something fierce as of late.”
You ponder the situation for a moment, evaluating your options. It is well known that with the right connections and the right amount of coin, one can get their hands on a Quarantine Visa from any one of the major Factions or Prelacy Families of the Republic, or even a passable counterfeit from more nefarious sources. At the same time, it would appear that the officiant doesn’t appear to be above some simple bribery – although his price may be hefty. However, despite it all, you’re sure that some of those let in appeared to have made a convincing case with the officiant without resorting to subterfuge or immorality. Gathering your wits, you step forward towards the officiant, and make your decision as to how to gain access to the First Province.

Thanks!

-Zeke Morrin the inventor

[ZekeMorrin]

Sorry there was something wrong with my internet connection and I clicked the "Submit" button several times and it resulted with creating many duplicate posts. My other posts can be deleted.

[Coty]

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...

Approved!

Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Welcome to Requiem!

[ZekeMorrin]

Yaaay thanks a lot , I'm excited to start exploring this beautiful world