What’s Your Story?

Posted: September 19, 2010 in Walking the Walk

I’ve never really done any RP in an MMO, largely because the only MMO’s I have played are GW and WAR, and I’ve never played with other RP’ers. A couple of fun threads over at Guild Wars 2 Guru got my creative juices flowing however and I fairly quickly came up with a back-story for one of my alts.

Well, maybe “alt” is not quite accurate. I fully intend (at this stage) to have a norn ranger as my primary character but I tend to bounce around characters a lot as the mood strikes so my playtime will be about 50-60% on my “main” with the rest of my time devoted to whichever alt I’m focused on at the time.

Bladhaire Talmhaigh (name is reserved, neener) is a human male elementalist of Ascalonian/Canthan heritage.

My name is Bladhaire, and this is my story. The streets of Divinity’s Reach are my home. Her alleyways serve as my bed and her marketplaces my meal ticket.

I wasn’t born to the gutters though, my kin were common folk. What few threads of my dimly remembered childhood that I can recall to wrap about myself on those cold winter nights are mostly happy ones.

My father was a farmer, ably assisted by my mother who managed not only to wrangle me but our excess produce and livestock to the local markets on a regular basis. We lived a simple but comfortable life. Most of my memories focus not on my parents – I cannot even picture their faces nor recall their names – but on more…elemental matters.

I can remember a tiny brook that bordered the farm – it would sing to me and I to it. The fire in our hearth would whisper to me of life and death, destruction and creation. The earth of our fields taught me of the many wonders that lay far beyond our village and long before our time. The world-weary sighs of the summer thunderstorms still echo in my ears to this day.

My…peculiarities…did not go unnoticed by my parents, or the other villagers. My tender age and the good standing of my parents saw me tolerated but not altogether trusted.

I was still but a child when I awoke one night to find our simple home ablaze. My father carried me to the safety of the fields before plunging back into the flames to find my mother. Neither he, nor my mother, emerged.

Ordinarily, nearby kin would take in an orphan such as myself. While my mothers family lived a great distance away, I had an uncle one village over, my fathers elder brother.

He arrived to “see to affairs” and what remained of my world crumbled to dust. Much of what occurred I cannot remember, or choose not to. Voices raised in accusation, hushed whispers around cooking fires, darting eyes.

And a small orphan boy, with not a single burn on him. His clothes not even singed.

To this day I cannot tell you the cause of that fire. What’s done is done. I bear no enmity towards my uncle or the villagers and the flames did as they are wont to do – creation and destruction.

My years on the streets have taught me discipline, strength and self reliance. I stand ready to fight for Divinity’s Reach, for Kryta and for Tyria herself.

My name is Bladhaire and this is my story. What’s yours?

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