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OOC: Sorry if this seems odd. *grin*

Mormanikth sat in Brill's lonesome in, hunched over a few pieces of paper and a book. He grumbled and muttered, looking down at his paper for one moment, and then putting a boney finger to his chin to think. An audible "Oh!" escaped his chapped lips, and he bent over the paper and scribbled furiously in black ink.

'Hello, my name is Mormanikth. Some people call me Morman, Mor, Nikt, and a few other titles I'd rather not write down on paper..'

The forsaken chuckled at his creativity, hopefully who ever had sent him the *application* would have a sense of humor. Shaking his head, Morman looked down at the paper and began writing once more.

'I am new to the dark arts of the Warlock, but I do hope to one day master the paths of Destruction and Affliction. I know both of those paths seem rather violent, but if you get past that, I'm a nice guy. '

Mormanikth grinned. He felt more and more comfortable writing this by the passing second, soon he was scribbling for minutes at end, greasy gray hair draping over his eyes to block his view of the application. He'd only pause to push his bangs to one side, and continue crafting responses to the numerous questions. He spoke to himself:
"Please introduce yourself, yadda yadda..."

'I am 17 years old as of July the Second. I have spent the past few months in the Undercity, because I don't know where else to go. See, about half a year ago, I was infected with the plague. A few friends and I were travelling through the Western Plaguelands. This was part of our trade route..For two months each year we'd take our stock through the Eastern Kingdoms, and this route was our least favored. Going through Hillsbrad and the Hinterlands was a breeze..There were twelve of us at that time. A week after we had finished business in Southshore, we had made it up to the Chillwind Camp. It was there we readied ourselves to run through Andorhal. Only three or four of us were natural born fighters..We had only one priest, the rest were warriors..
Anyways, things were going smoothly upon entry to Andorhal. Our carts were secure, as were our valuables, and there were very few visible scourge. We'd taken the west road, heading towards the Bulwark. '
Mormanikth furrowed his brow in thought.
'We were on our way out, relieved that we had gotten through the worst part of the trip, when, well, I don't know what happened. This giant creature..an Abomination, I believe, had clambered over a hill and began to chase us. As a mere merchant, I was told to flee with the rest of the tradesman, and that's exactly what we did. I remember watching the behemoth tear through my allies like paper..'
The inn had begun to fill, fellow forsaken drifted through and took seats near the fire, others browsed through books or mended their clothing silently.
'Anyways, all four of our protectors had died, and soon the Abomination was upon us. We had made it just south of Dalson's Tears, and this is where I met my fate. Soon enough we were out of breath, and I pushed further as the scourge caught up and slaughtered the other merchants. I ran alone for what seemed like days, and just as quickly as I had outrun the Abomination, more ghouls had begun to follow, and soon they were upon me. The last thing I saw was the Bulwark, and that was when more than a dozen of those buggers attacked me. I closed my eyes, and felt the worst pain I have ever experienced. I woke up, I don't know long after the attacks, and I was severely injured. I was in the Ruins of Lordaeron (sp), all alone. I don't know who took me there, and whether it was a human or, a fellow forsaken, I thank them. Shortly after waking up, I discovered I was no longer the innocent little human boy I thought I was, instead I had grown into the forsaken that writes this letter to you. I believe the scourge that attacked me had infected me, but I still have no clue how I survived the ordeal...I walked, stunned, down to the Undercity, where I've made my home...'
Looking down at the paper, images of the horrendous even flashed before Mormanikth. He didn't bother to check his spelling, just glancing at his own account of the story made him uneasy. Mor glanced at the next question, and let smiled, willing to move on to a much lighter subject.
'As per professions, I have none. I find these hands of mine are too faulty, I can't make anything, it's usually easier for me to destroy. Heh. Maybe down the road I will learn to craft something, but until then, I earn money through other ways. I have not had any experience with a guild or tribe, I've been alone save for the times I was with my band of merchants. '
Two grey fingers strummed against his chin as he read the next question. Under his breath he read:
"What drew your interest towards the Ironsong Tribe, and what interactions have you had with any members?"
Morman answered the inquiry quickly and quietly.
'I have not come in contact with any members of the tribe, I have only heard through word of mouth. The reason I am applying to THIS tribe is because it seems to house the most people who I think might be somewhat like myself. I am sicking of being alone and bored and unhappy, and I believe the Ironsong Tribe can cure this easily and effortlessly.'
The former question was a breeze for the man, because it was so easy to be sincere with his reply.
'One of the toughest challenges I have faced is adapting to this new life. I cannot communicate with my family, although they are still alive and most likely very worried with me. I'd love to meet my mother in Redridge and tell her I'm alive in fine, but there are certain barriers I cannot pass. I am now supposed to be against what I originally was, and now I loathe my previous self, just because I was a human. Instead of feeling safe, now, I feel hunted...The Scarlet Crusade was never even thought of when I was younger, but now it's like a constant thought in the back of my head. These are just a few hard trials...Getting use to thisdrastic change is tough for me.'
He shot a quick glance at the next question, and began to write once more
'What are my goals? Let's see...I'd love to become a full fledged warlock, so I don't have to be scared so often. It seems some people stride around Azeroth with such confidence, even in mortal peril. I'd like that sense of strength and self esteem, and that is what I am working towards. I want to find a new family for myself, because as I mentioned early, life is very gray and dull without one. I don't really want money or fame, I just want friends.'
'I don't know what I really enjoy at the moment, because I've been training so hard as a warlock. I'd love the thrill of battle, but off the field I enjoy relaxing. I try to take life easy, and find I am happiest when I don't worry. So I guess this answer is to be continued...'
Morman boggled at the lines of text before him, and finally, after reading it all, he responded slyly...
'Read the Code of Conduct? I have now...Thank you for your time, and please write back if I am accepted. I look forward to meeting you all.'
The forsaken stood up and folded the paper in half before retrieving his belongings and leaving the inn. He slipped the letter into a mailbox by the doorway, and soon the warlock had walked away in silence.

OOC: Sorry if it's a little shakey, if anything needs to be done, just tell me. ^.^
((No worries, this is one of my favorite applications among those I've read, and we have some stellar folks here lately. Looking forward to meeting you in-game.

High Priestess of the Ironsong))
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris
(I like your style. I hope you like us as well! Have fun visiting a Moot and getting to know the Tribe. Perhaps once I yank Coranda out of the Inn I'll see you around.

-SWC Cora)
(( as they have said, a very excellent application. It was a very good read. Hope to see you at the moots and hopefully in the tribe soon!))
[Image: 3994085VvROm.png]
((*sighs in relief * Alright, I'll definitely come to the next moot. I was pretty scared because no one replied yesterday, and they thought I was wierd >.>))
I havn't been on much to criticize everyones applications. Yours is passable, you may attend the moot without being assualted with rotten fruit.
Wow, less than insulting words from Damoxian. A rare honor indeed.
The mighty cannot stop me, nor the wise make plans against me.

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