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My First (maybe last) Back-story

Published by under Blog on Jul. 17. 2011.

With so little real usable info about TOR since E3 I have gone to a place I did not expect to go. That is thinking of a back story for my main class when the game hits. I guess playing other mmo’s I have thought of the class I was playing to have a defined role, but nothing so deep to the point that crashed my thinking process as it has the past few weeks.

So for the first time ever (and maybe the last depending on how this goes) I will layout my back story of my main in TOR.

 

Setting – Forward patrol Alpha 2.

30 miles east of Anchorhead.

 

 

“War…..Warlock it’s that time again”.

 

 

You would think by now I would be used to getting up at 4am before the Tattoonie sun’s have risen. This was one of the times the Sandpeople would attack my squad.

My squad, I’m still getting used to this idea. It’s only been a month since my promotion came through to Sergeant, about freaking time too. Though I could have made it a lot easier on myself and not got busted down for picking a fight with an upstart officer that almost got us all killed.

I had my stripes on my left boot. I was not going to make myself a bigger target for those Sandy’s, the added bonus is this would be a lasting reminder a rookie would see if they ever tried to question my orders. I don’t normally use the chain of command out here. The buck stops with me.

 

I only ask 2 things of my squad and that’s we fight together and we don’t leave anyone behind.

 

“Ok skit’s I’m awake” I replied.

 

Skit’s was the newest member of Havic squad for this reason he gets the dead shift (dead as in nothing happening) well we all have to pay a due’s. Also you can’t put your life on the line with an untested guy way out here.

I grabbed my water, even now the air was dry.

 

I slept with scream, that’s the name I game my rifle.

Why screen you ask ?

Well that’s the sound I hear when I unleash this baby, it’s a thing to behold but with power you must have control. Not an easy thing when the shit hits the fan.

 

There is little to prepare you for a sunrise on Tatoonie.  I have the scar to remind me every day. One of those Sandy’s was held up in a bolt hole took a well-aimed shot at me. I only raised my head for a moment to watch the sunrise and I felt the sting of the shot as it glanced off my helm and carved a 3 inch wound on the right of my neck.

 

I guess some lessons have to be learnt the hard way, and here on Tatoonie it was full of hard lessons.

 

It’s been almost 2 weeks from the last early morning raid a little to quite for my liking. I’m not making any extra credits when I’m not killing anything.

We loot what we kill, more kills means more credits.

Now being squad leader my share was 20% my squad took a 30% share the rest went to the war effort. Well that’s what we were told anyway. It’s been long known that the commanding officer would take a little for himself before the Republic got it’s pay check.

 

I used to be a little gun happy in the past, but now I have 20 guys under my command and everyone had a job to do. Mine we keeping these alive. I would not ask anyone under my command to do something that I was not willing to do myself. This kept me in good standing and gave Alpha 2 squad a gave us good re-pore with the rest of the troops. We took missions that very few would take. This is where the big pay-off’s came from, sure the risk was greater and you did have to run a tight ship. Yet we remained the top squad in lives lost something to think about when you put in a transfer request.

 

But I took to killing like a Tauntaun took to snow but it was not always this way. I still remember when it all started way back on Coruscant the day the Sith came.

 

Coruscant, it’s been some time since I last thought of my old home.

We lived in sector 345 tower 52 floor 301 of 600.

 

Not the biggest or most important building on the planet but we had a good life there my farther and I.

My mother died a few years back now, not much in the way of medicines made its way down here. What little did was way over priced. I still see her face now and then in the darkness. She had a smile that would light up the room a kind-hearted woman full of spirit and a love for music.

But that seems so long ago, some times it’s hard to picture her, yet when i focus on her smile the shadows fade away and it’s like she is still with me.

 

We lived in an old food storage compound, this was build back when there was a great food shortage in my great grandfathers time. The walls were thick 3 feet of hardened Hoth steal that any war ship would have be proud of.

 

My farther was a tailor and dealt in the black market with armor, a passion he took from being a boy. We pay taxes on a tailor shop way less than we would being in the armor business. We where in a sweet zone as my farther would say.

Way above the gangs that would rob us and below the radar of the republic eye to be noticed.

 

I went to school 3 days of the week, this is the time my farther would be making his deals in the black market. It’s not always a good idea to have a kid around when your making a trade with some of the folk that used to seek out some of our more exotic goods.

We were right on the east side of the tower only 20 feet from the nearest hanger. A prime location for shady dealers to come and go unnoticed.

 

Me I had my own corner of the shop. Though not fully trained in making armors yet my farther did encourage me to learn how to barter at a very early age. Knowing the price of things stopped you getting ripped off, most if not all would try with me being of such a young age and all.

 

I would trade in silks rare plants from many worlds and dream of the day I would visit them all. But we had all we needed here and life was good.

 

Oh yes the sunsets. Being in an unimpressive tower you did not get a sunset of sorts. The light did for the most part illuminate us and the surrounding buildings.

Between 11am and 4pm we had direct sunlight.

The silvers of steal and glass of the nearby towers would glisten like jewels in a cave. The only bad part being this low was when the mid day summer heat would hit. You could smell the stench of the lower floors below.

Even the rotten caucus of the Sandy’s did not even come close to the vile stink that would waft up from the lower depths.

 

This was a happy time before the unprovoked attack on Coruscant by the Sith.

 

This was the day everything changed. It was 1 week past my 15th birthday. My tower fared better than most being of an unimpressive status. Yet the skyline changed forever, some towers bent like wild grass in the wind. Something to well remember if and when you question why you joined the war effort.

So many lost lives that day, the thick walls of the shop would become a refuge for many with the gangs becoming more bold with the rest of the republic preoccupied with other things.

 

This was the day I swore to take revenge on those Sith dogs and the first day I had a thirst for blood.

 

Until next time, MrWarlock signing off.

One response so far

One Response to “My First (maybe last) Back-story”

  1. swtorcrafteron 17 Jul 2011 at 6:01 pm

    awesome work bud! I love it.

    I used to get into that but I think LOTRO was the last game realm where I got into that aspect of playing a mmo. I was always big for having backgrounds and written story and background to all my guilds but for some reason I just grew away from that for more of a mechanical focused gameplay style interested in other things more than RP like crafting, in game economics, etc.

    I still love to see what creative minds can come up with though and this is great stuff 🙂