- Pronouns
- He/Him, They/Them
"The game is not the same. The game. I don't wanna play that game. The game, people dying to get in. The game, they will find out they don't fit in. The game wants to control me. The game doesn't even know me. The game got your word meaning nothing. The game forgot what you heard. The game is like, wait, I got nothing for you. The game I'm like either give it to me, or I take it from you. The game can't hurt me. The game, I'm too strong, that's why I've been in this game for so long. The game don't give a drek about me, but the game can't make a coin without me."
The above words are more than just a quote from a long forgotten ranger. Someone from the annuls of history, someone important? Someone not so important? It doesn't matter. You see the truth is this line of work doesn't really change. But the game does. The game isn't the work. The game isn't the trails we track, the paths we create, the enemies we fight, the beasts we look after and those we put down to protect others.
The game is everything else. The game is magic. The game is industry. The game is people and the game, most importantly, has changed. I'm not talking about wars and diplomacy. Frankly, I don't give a drek if elf wipes out dwarf or orc destroys man. None of that matters. We are still here. We were here in the past. We will still be here after all this over.
The game is the people. And the people have changed. Something dark creeps into the people. We find doors closed to us that weren't. We are regarded with suspicion despite the fact that without us the pathways would close. Without us, they would've been lost and forgotten, long ago. Lost. And. Forgotten.
The author of the above words doesn't matter. The truth of them, all these years later does. We're a practical lot, us Guildsmen. We wear bandannas, we wear cloaks and robes, tool-belts and such not for the fashion of putrid masses, or the vainglorious nobles, but because if we didn't, the wind would get in our faces. The cold would freeze us from action. We wouldn't have anywhere to hold the things we need to do what we do.
But maybe we need to do more. Maybe because the game has changed, it's time for us to. We are more than just the tools of the game. We are more than just its pawns, just its weapons. The game has nothing to give us, but it takes all of us. So maybe it's time that we started to take back from the game.
The game doesn't give a drek about me, but the game can't make a coin without me.
That is true. The words are a mantra - and one we know better than our own names. We are real. I hear often that we are on the way out. Magic and industry will take over. We won't be needed any more. I laugh when they say that. The game's been trying to get rid of us for centuries. We're still here.
But it's time to change. The game can't make a coin without me. Well, I want to make more than just a coin, or two or three or five or ten. I want it all. We can have it all. The bandanna I wear, the robes and cloaks, just a disguise. I wear a tool-belt because I need somewhere to put the hammer I just broke your hand with, or hold the tacks I smashed your face into.
The game wants to control me. The game doesn't even know me.
But it will.
Soon they all will.
The above words are more than just a quote from a long forgotten ranger. Someone from the annuls of history, someone important? Someone not so important? It doesn't matter. You see the truth is this line of work doesn't really change. But the game does. The game isn't the work. The game isn't the trails we track, the paths we create, the enemies we fight, the beasts we look after and those we put down to protect others.
The game is everything else. The game is magic. The game is industry. The game is people and the game, most importantly, has changed. I'm not talking about wars and diplomacy. Frankly, I don't give a drek if elf wipes out dwarf or orc destroys man. None of that matters. We are still here. We were here in the past. We will still be here after all this over.
The game is the people. And the people have changed. Something dark creeps into the people. We find doors closed to us that weren't. We are regarded with suspicion despite the fact that without us the pathways would close. Without us, they would've been lost and forgotten, long ago. Lost. And. Forgotten.
The author of the above words doesn't matter. The truth of them, all these years later does. We're a practical lot, us Guildsmen. We wear bandannas, we wear cloaks and robes, tool-belts and such not for the fashion of putrid masses, or the vainglorious nobles, but because if we didn't, the wind would get in our faces. The cold would freeze us from action. We wouldn't have anywhere to hold the things we need to do what we do.
But maybe we need to do more. Maybe because the game has changed, it's time for us to. We are more than just the tools of the game. We are more than just its pawns, just its weapons. The game has nothing to give us, but it takes all of us. So maybe it's time that we started to take back from the game.
The game doesn't give a drek about me, but the game can't make a coin without me.
That is true. The words are a mantra - and one we know better than our own names. We are real. I hear often that we are on the way out. Magic and industry will take over. We won't be needed any more. I laugh when they say that. The game's been trying to get rid of us for centuries. We're still here.
But it's time to change. The game can't make a coin without me. Well, I want to make more than just a coin, or two or three or five or ten. I want it all. We can have it all. The bandanna I wear, the robes and cloaks, just a disguise. I wear a tool-belt because I need somewhere to put the hammer I just broke your hand with, or hold the tacks I smashed your face into.
The game wants to control me. The game doesn't even know me.
But it will.
Soon they all will.