"A girl?" Chachanji echoed curiously, eager for clarification. His own desire to help people, to protect them, was a more generalized feeling. He could easily recall those many days of his childhood watching his father hammer metal into shape, his mother selling the resulting armor and weapons to people with a cool business approach. The little Lalafell had never really seen the resulting products as merely things to turn a profit like they seemed to, but as armaments used to protect the weak and the defenseless. Many a daydream - oft superimposed over his intended lectures on economy and the importance of coin - consisted of the youngest Gegenji child donning his self-made armor and rescuing a princess or an entire warehouse of orphans.
In his mind, he possessed no singular event where he decided that protecting people was what he wanted to do. Heck, he might not have even mustered up to courage to go out on such a wild venture if it hadn't been for the precedence his older brother Gogonji had set for him. Despite his oddities, Chachanji had always held a fair bit of reverence and respect for both his parents and older siblings - still did, if he was to be honest with himself - so he had always resigned himself to his father's wishes. To forge sword and shield and sell them to the highest bidder like the rest of his family. To him, his father's decision was nothing short of unshakeable, infallible, and beyond reproach.
It had been Gogonji that had changed that, with that one happenstance moment where young Chachan had stumbled across the heated argument between father and son. All at once, the youngest Gegenji had seen his father as someone who could be confronted - defied, even! - and a reason to believe he could follow his own dreams presented in the shape of his older brother. Even after Gogon disappeared from his life, off to seek his own golden shores, and his father had dourly returned to shaping his youngest child to be his successor instead of his eldest, the seed was slowly taking root. All leading to the day when Chachanji followed his older brother's footsteps and refuted his lot in life.
And now here he was, in the land of his mother, learning swordplay from a towering bastion of good in the form of Ser Warren. At least, that's how the little Lalafell saw it anyway. He was here, learning from amazing people so that he might go out and do amazing things himself.
"... What was she like?"
In his mind, he possessed no singular event where he decided that protecting people was what he wanted to do. Heck, he might not have even mustered up to courage to go out on such a wild venture if it hadn't been for the precedence his older brother Gogonji had set for him. Despite his oddities, Chachanji had always held a fair bit of reverence and respect for both his parents and older siblings - still did, if he was to be honest with himself - so he had always resigned himself to his father's wishes. To forge sword and shield and sell them to the highest bidder like the rest of his family. To him, his father's decision was nothing short of unshakeable, infallible, and beyond reproach.
It had been Gogonji that had changed that, with that one happenstance moment where young Chachan had stumbled across the heated argument between father and son. All at once, the youngest Gegenji had seen his father as someone who could be confronted - defied, even! - and a reason to believe he could follow his own dreams presented in the shape of his older brother. Even after Gogon disappeared from his life, off to seek his own golden shores, and his father had dourly returned to shaping his youngest child to be his successor instead of his eldest, the seed was slowly taking root. All leading to the day when Chachanji followed his older brother's footsteps and refuted his lot in life.
And now here he was, in the land of his mother, learning swordplay from a towering bastion of good in the form of Ser Warren. At least, that's how the little Lalafell saw it anyway. He was here, learning from amazing people so that he might go out and do amazing things himself.
"... What was she like?"
