No, I did not plan to have an "adventure". I am a mere 92cm in size, and in my late 30s. What would I do? Probably dying from the next bear or being trampled by a wild Chocobo. Never settled for family or relationships and being a maverick. That was also the reason why ultimatively lost my job - and thus my home - as my employer, a grumpy old fart, fired me on the spot when I came too late to work in his little, murky general store. As I threw my uniform into his face and, ahem, flipped him off, I felt the urge to break out of my life, breathing fresh air so to speak. I left basically all - or nothing as I had no own possessions- and headed to Gridania.
Thanks to the nice people and a slip from the Quiver's Hold, I had access to a surprisingly nifty inn room - for free. But now my planless moves became clear: I am not a killer! It was just a hobby to fire some arrows into trees and such, I never killed someone, or something, before. Aiming at a living, sentient creature made me shake; I never released the arrow.. I trusted myself to Athelyna, who directed me over to Luciane Corne. First real contact an Elezen but she didn't mind so much as she kneeled down to instruct me the use of the bow. Over and over. Her patience is baffling, and eventually, I can even hit the mark. In order to gain money, she took me to some smaller jobs and it was that day where I killed my first enemy. It felt..rather thrilling, and my skills developed over the next years...
Something inside me changed though. The gain in self-confidence kindled a blood lust. Downing foes became my hobby, but arrows have a physical limit of damage - especially the small arrows I shoot. What is not bound to body size? The power of mind. MAGIC!
The first steps of becoming a Thaumaturge were tough, but swinging a wand was easier for me than wielding bow and arrow. Manipulating the Aether to roast, freeze and shock enemies is an exhilarating feel, but to a cost. My soul changed, my once blonde hair turned black and a tribal mark appeared the more I got sucked into the art of Black Magic. But still, for some reason, it felt incomplete, despite me being a Scholar healer at the same time.
One fateful morning, I woke up with a ridiculous idea. A view in the mirror: Me, a middle-aged male Lalafell in his 40s, growing some white hair already. I have not unlimited time...
"Now or never!" I said to myself as I stepped up to this tall, old Miqo'te who sat in this filthy drinking hole. He was easy to identify: A noble Red Mage.. With me having a mage background and asking too much questions, he accepted me as his student. Oof!
As I put on my apprentice Red Mage attire and wielding magic in form of a crystal in one, and a sharp, silver blade in the other hand, finally combining not only black and white magic, but also ranged magic and melee physical fighting abilities I knew:
I found my real, final professions: Red Mage and Scholar
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