Hydaelyn Role-Players

Spoiler“So, you want to know about me, eh? Alright. I’ll start atthe beginning then. My story starts in Ishgard on the 7[sup]th[/sup] sun of the3[sup]rd[/sup] Astral moon. Inside the cities was a small group of Seeker ofthe Sun Miqo’tes and among them were X’Jirho Nunh and X'Dyalani Jirho, my parents. I bet you’re wondering why they have tribal names despite living in a city like Ishgard. Well, we kept our tribal names as a sign of heritage. Anyway, back to the story. On that day, X’Jirho and X’Dyalani had a son and named him X’Sato. That’s me. My father was a Chocobo merchant and long time friend of some of the Dragoons of Ishgard. My mother was a simple tailor. Come to think of it, my family had a long line of dealing with the Dragoons. We knew where to get the best of the best; the Dragoons needed the best of the best.  The friendship sparked from there.” X’Sato leans back in his chairand sips his drink before continuing.
 
“As you can probably guess from my parent’s career choices,I didn’t grow up too terribly rich. I was ‘middle class’, as some people stated. My childhood was pretty nice, though. My father taught me how to be a man. He taught me the benefits of self-sacrifice and giving freely of oneself. Though, he never taught me how to act socially.” X’Sato laughs a bit.  
 
“My mother tutored me from home, while she wasn’t working. Ihad to help my father from time to time as I got older. Everything was nice and home-y. Even when my sister was born, everything stayed as good as I could have asked. I liked the simple life. That is, until I saw something that changed my life forever. I caught a glimpse of some Dragoons practicing. I fell in love with the way they moved. I found myself fantasizing about joining their ranks and being a Dragoon myself. I expressed an interest in joining the Dragoons to my parents; who quickly replied with a mixture of emotions. They weren’t sure if they should be worried, scared, angry, or proud. They didn’t like the idea of me marching off to die, but they were proud that I was willing to. My parents were confusing people. Not many 10 year olds express that kind of interest though. It took them a few days to respond, but they allowed me to pursue my dreams. My father’s friend got me in and from that day forward, I started training to be a Dragoon and fight in the Holy War. Life wasn’t easy from that point on. I showed prowess with a spear, though, so I took to my training rather quickly. I won’t really go over what I did while in training before I became a Dragoon, because I’m sure it’d be boring to listen to me recant tales of training and fighting. It was the same thing over and over. I’ll just leave it at ‘there was a lot of training and a lot of fighting.’” X’Sato laughs again before running a handthrough his hair. Telling his tale is, of course, bringing back memories. A look of nostalgia covers his face.
 
“It took me quite a while to get to a point where I washappy with my skills. I wasn’t ‘the best’ by any stretch of the imagination. I was good enough to live through all the fighting. I heard about this guy, ‘Uther Skystrider’, self-exiling himself to go and fight some other cause. At first, I remember laughing at him a bit. Why leave? Why exile yourself from those who share your religion and style and everything? Then I heard what he went to go fight and my laughing stopped. I remember a few sleepless nights, debating what to do with my life. Was I fighting the right fight? Well, as I’m sure you can tell, I thought I wasn’t. I wouldn’t be here if I did. I left Ishgard just after Uther, following his footsteps it seemed. I exiled myself.” He pauses for a moment to wet his throatwith his drink.
 
“I only made it to Gridania before everything went to shit.The Calamity hit and I didn’t get to do a damn thing to try and stop it. All I could do was settle down and try to help the recovery. Gridania seemed a nice enough place to settle down, plus I couldn’t leave after seeing all the kids who were distraught. I had to stay and help the innocents. So I did. Five years later, I’m still helping the innocents. My skills are a little rusty, but it shouldn’t take me any time to warm back up.” He finishes his drink before standing, clutching his spear, and turningaway from the table.
 

“That’s just the beginning of my story. I still have plentyto write.”