GW2 Character Profiles

[tr1age]

Please use this thread to tell us about your character.

I will begin:

A tale that writes with the days, a story that is not ending.​

There was a time when writing my own tale seemed to be something of an impossibility. My story, my journeys, had only just begun. I myself did not know the words for the pages .​

I am still that same wanderer, but I have traveled down many long roads. I have laughed among men. I have lain upon a lady’s breast. I have smelled the sweet aroma of spring, and time after time I have chased the setting sun to the West.​

​

My story, if told, could not be written in any book. Books are for tales, morals and heroes. My life cannot be categorized. It has been a road of many turns. If you applied a simple method of storytelling to a life such as this, the plot would thicken until it devoured its own pages.​

​

I once met a woman with truer words I’ve yet to hear.​

​

“So your past haunts you, but here you stand with your life in front of you. I believe you should turn around and walk forward. If perchance you stumble upon the shadows of your life, stand with them. Wait until night, then move forward again. Live your life, Triage.”​

​

I could tell you about my childhood. I vaguely remember a boy who cried himself to sleep not knowing why. Ages later I recalled hands forced upon him, ripping the tears from his eyes. A boy forced to grow alone except for a few angels voices. There was a sibling that kept him safe though he remembers a different day and a different role. There was a far off family, but even though distance reminds him differently, they now seem closer than ever. It’s as if it was a dream, but that dream still haunts me and it impacts my decisions day to day.​

It is cogent to talk about my changes and how I grew strong; how I held onto rebellion and traveled alone. But with all strengths comes a sense of despair. A newfound need for passion, for understanding. A need for exposition, for all of me to be explained and not hidden away beneath layers of hazy intrigue.​

​

A truth will carry you far, but in a place where deceit becomes truth, one must choose their words wisely. I combine my stories with small bits of rhyme, it helps when writing to pass the time.​

​

A man who stands and refuses to agree or has strong feelings and passions needs to understand the concept I now know. Humble one’s self.​

​

My life has encountered so many different types of personalities, but with them came cookie cutters and molded people alike. Until the day I meet a person who’s flawed; a person with their own passions, desires, and needs. A person who sees beyond words and reads the stories of the world, able to apply them to his/her own tale, I shall continue to choose to follow my path alone.​

​

I walk this world willingly. I look forward to large goals and achievements, but unlike the ranger who sifts through the sand and tastes each grain in attempt to plan his travels, I do not have a mouth filled with dirt and false hope. I see things in a way that (one would hope) are true. Regardless of pain or personal pleasure, my needs are much deeper. To pain others is not my wish, but I am sardonic and I do have a sharp tongue. I will debate you to death if you are naïve. I will scream for my ideals until I am blue. I don’t believe in an answer before it’s proven to be true. My humor is dry, my passions sometimes hidden, but my world is for all and I will happily let you in… but remember this well because I will say it only once; my layers are deep. If you want more than the surface, you will need to earn trust, not simple acquaintance.​

​

I would not call myself a cynic, but rather someone who enjoys the daily pleasures bestowed to us from birth. I see a picture larger than my own, I tie in events and try to knot them so when I am faced with choices I have a tightly bound rope of my life to utilize and climb until the answer is found. If there is no rejoinder, I climb further and look for a place to swing to another and look for aid outside myself.​

​

If I were to summate my personality and life in a line, it would be simple, “I am the fool from an epic play. I say what I want but in the right way. I hold nothing back, my tongue leads me. I see more than you think, I jest at your faults but you do not get riled, I am but a fool in a world closed in by walls. I walk outside and enjoy the sounds of nature, the peasants, and return for the king alike. I sit with the animals and am afraid of bees, but I myself am just a fool who ‘knows nothing.’”​

​

So in a simple recapitulation of this summation, my life is moving forward. I mostly travel alone but look forward to seeing friendly faces. If you gain my trust, I will give you a new and invasive world. By this I speak of not a negative connotation, but exciting and different and filled with laughter. Our adventures will be grand. The bloodshed will not be from our veins, but instead the blood of those who get in our way. It will be a bond like no other, friendships to carry horses in their daily journeys, sweeping even the fastest steed to the side. Through my eyes I see the world; through your eyes can you see mine?​

 

[Becka]

A young girl sits in a dark room, the flicker of a dying flame in a giant stone fireplace is the only sign of life. She is still, barely moving except the fingers that are holding tight on the idol of her one true god. She can only worship him in the darkness of her bedroom, for fear of being found out. She does not feel what regular humans feel when they experience fear. Her god teaches her to fear not and to face evil and death head on.

Grenth, The God of Darkness, Death, and Ice. That is who she follows. She may be young but she understands the meaning of what he is. Her parents oppose this God, for they believe in Komir. This has lead to many fights among their family, for who would let their own child succumb to such treachery?

Her name is Genivee, She does not speak of her surname for she believes her not to be a child of that family. A runaway trying to find her true family is what she became, and how it shaped her into what she is now. After wondering the land she finally found who she was looking for in the Depths of Tyria, a new family to call her own. They taught her the dark arts of the Necromancers, the trials were hard but she prevailed, she was strong. Every small ounce of fear that she once had was now replaced with determination to make her God and new family proud. Her fear now became others fears. To lay eyes on her could strike fear into the smallest of creatures to the mightiest foes. This world was hers to conquer, but alas she could not do it on her own.

What once was beautiful blonde locks had now become a light brown color, but she was still just as beautiful as before, you could tell in her eyes and her sly smile. Her mother and father both came from a long line of wealthy family's, who bore wonderfully brilliant children. She inherited these traits down to the last gene. She tried her best to hide the fact she looked like her family, but she had two sisters who resembled her. She had not seen nor heard from anyone in her family for almost 10 years and it has made her happy.

Her goal in life is to defeat her foes, but her journey has not yet begun. The road ahead is long and tedious, but she knows with the help of her new found family she can succeed in anything. She is ready to face the dangers of Tyria.

 

[Artorias]

Artorias Stormblade
Character biography

Family: Artorias's family was of the common class living in Divinity's Reach. His father worked as a guard and was adept in the skills of a guardian. His mother was a “housewife” for the most part, and on the side she ran a small vegetable stand in the eastern commons of the city.

Artorias only had one sibling, a sister who loved to play tricks on him with different pranks and a small assortment of illusionary spells. She was known to have potential as a mesmer but never had the opportunity to truly hone her skills.

History: Many years ago when Artorias was just a boy, his father was killed in a vicious bandit attack while on duty standing guard just outside the cities main gates. The group of bandits were actually attacking the village of Shoemor, and seeing the commotion from his post, he ran in with a small group of men to try and drive them back. He was successful, but had his life taken in the process. The men who survived the bandit attack always said he fought with a sense of honor, duty, and strength. Hearing the news of her husbands death, Artorias's mother soon fell ill and past away a few months later...

This was a dark time in Artorias's life, especially for being so young. But he was his fathers son, and would move forward no matter what obstacle stands before him. Now living with his sister in the Salma district in their old home, he was able to find work as a weaponsmiths apprentice. After a few years he was given the chance to create his first weapon, this weapon would be a greatsword...

This weapon he saw as an object of great power, beauty and craftsmanship. The detail of the weapon was so immense for a boy his age, the mastersmith who he worked for let him keep the weapon as a form of gratitude, for the sword attracted much attention from the towns folk. So much so, that a norn guardian by the name Odinsvell took notice of the weapon, and asked to speak with Artorias in private. Seeing Odinsvell for the first time was shocking to Artorias, for this would be the first time he had ever seen a norn this close before. Odinsvell talked with him for a long time. They talked about his parents, how he took care of his sister, and his weaponsmithing. It was at the end of this conversation that Odinsvell offered Artorias a chance that would change his life forever. A chance at becoming a guardian like Odinsvell, and like his father...

Without hesitation Artorias accepted, and a week later began his training. He was average with a sword and shield, and could not cast a single spell or symbol for the life of him. All in all, he was not doing so well. That's when Odinsvell had an idea, he handed Artorias a greatsword and told him to give it a few swings. The sword swung very easily for him. The years working as a weaponsmith had given him a decent amount of muscle, and the sword felt natural against training dummies and sparing partners. Tho Artorias could not use magic very well, he excelled in using his greatsword and from then on would use the weapon all the time. The years following were good to Artorias and his sister. When he wasn't working at the smithy, he was training with his greatsword. His sister worked their mothers old vegetable stand and were living quite happy.

Fast forward 10 years to modern day, and Artorias has been chisled into a strong young warrior, unrivaled with the greatsword. He developed a small reputation with the townsfolk and was given the nickname Stormblade, for he often fought friendly duels against the cities strongest known soldiers, and won against them regularly. Odinsvell has left the warrior to his life, traveling back to his home city of Hoelbrak in the shiverpeak mountains. Now a freelance weaponsmith, Artorias crafts custom weapons for the people of Divinity's Reach. His sister has recently disappeared, seemingly out of nowhere and Artorias has had no leads on what happened to her. So for the first time in his life, he has thrown off the weights of the common man and finds himself stepping out beyond the walls of Divinity's Reach, ready to find adventure, glory and strength.

This is my story... and it has just begun...