Wilkus Wildheart

My D&D character is a crafty hobbit, and before tomorrow’s campaign, I had to write his backstory. After writing it, I didn’t have the gumption to write this post. That’s because I want to watch Gilmore Girls at .75x speed with Spanish subtitles and with Spanish speakers. Even though I don’t understand half of what they’re saying, I’m digging hearing early 2000s music hits at such sloooowwed doooowwwwnnn speeeeeeds.

I, Wilkus Wildheart, have a tale to tell. I am the only one that remains from the Village of Troutland. The last of eight siblings and as least of might, I got everything last, fought for it the most, and plotted and acted to advance my status in the spaces where others slept, ate, and made idle chit-chat. My father, a cobbler, and my mother, a seamstress, meant our family’s services were constantly used in the town.

Our town, made up of both sets of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and four other families of multiple generations, was set beside a glorious river chalked full of trout. Oh, how I remember those summer days fondly; tying knots and tying flys, I mastered the sport and was named the Top Fisher for five years straight. My nephew Tyrus, the poor boy, was born with a deformed hand and the tiniest and last of his siblings. So I looked out for him. When he came of age, I took him camping, taught him skills of woodworking and fishing, and equipped him so he, too, could be mighty. Years of memories together.

His teacher, Miss Angeline, the kindest, most gentle woman I’d ever known, saw him (me) for what he was and loved and stood up for him. I never told her; I didn’t get a chance to tell her I loved her. A group of bandits came on the eve of our fall festival, their anger just. A week or two prior, on an overnight with my nephew, I’d spied a camp, and as I always did, when foreigners came to our land, I looted it. How could I have known the importance of the amulet I stole? They’d gone mad and stopped at nothing to find it, burning every home and store and leaving no one soul breathing. I returned to town days later from a solo trip to trade. I will stop at nothing with the amulet in my pocket to gain vengeance.

Love, Wilkus

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