An Apprentice Alchemist

Up until this little 'town raid' fiasco your life had been calm, quiet, 'sheltered' even, then everything changed. You first spawned exactly 4382.91 days ago, twelve years to the minute from when the bell sounds signaling another raid is begun, and you look back on the first ten of those years with fondness.

You have always been an apprentice alchemist, though 12 years ago you were the most junior apprentice in the entire little village, and had the body and memories of a six year old child. Your life's story was one of tragedy, father a mercenary killed in an orc ambush before you were born, mother a waitress at the local tavern who died in childbirth. You and your 'twin sister' were sold into servitude, but not slavery, an indentured apprentice ship to the local alchemist, and there you worked for ten years, never growing up, compounding medicines and incendiaries year after year, the only real change being what you put into the fireworks for the annual 'game anniversary' celebration and the daily variance of restocking the shop. It was a pretty dull life, but Master Ontarian was a kind man and you never went hungry, and of course there were always the occasional slow days when you and your twin could kick back and play checkers.

Then about two years ago the raids started and everything changed.

Suddenly you were a 'quest giver' and your sister locked up in a orcish dungeon and held for ransom. Not only that but as a 'named character' you aged and grew in time with the game's calendar, which was slaved to the one in the 'real world' (whatever that meant), and were updated to be 16 years old slowly progressing from that point to, as of this morning, being 18. Occasionally your sister would be rescued, and you would have a day or two with her, but then the raid would happen again, as it did every day, and this time no one would stay to protect her and she would be carried off again. You almost feel better about her not being here today, you don't have to watch helplessly as she is dragged away again, because none of the 'heroes' in town today are even remotely high enough level to beat the orcish war boss who is coming.

"Shopkeep, I need 12 Ice Bombs NOW!" An adventurer shouts from the doorway and something in you suddenly SNAPS.

"My NAME is, ________!" You snarl, reaching for a beaker of acid.