Can't Blame Ya, I'd Check Me Out Too!

Cheesy jokes aside. Hi!, I'm Tyr! This spot on the web acts like my profile/portfolio, where I talk about myself and share my passions! Whether you're a seasoned Warrior of Light or a newcomer to Eorzea, I'm glad you're here. So, buckle up, enjoy the escapism, and let the fantasies unfold!

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I Am Not Defined By The Battles I've Won, But By The Wars I Refuse To Lose.

Having a solid character fantasy is pretty important for fun roleplaying. It's the groundwork that keeps your character real and believable. And when you're playing with others, it's like knowing the beats of their story. Understanding what makes their character tick helps us spin a more exciting and cohesive tale together. It's all about vibing with each other's fantasies and making the roleplaying ride more fun for everyone!

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Scars Tell A Warriors Story

Tyr wasn't always the calm, cheerful and experienced man you may know today. His experiences shaped him and his mistakes engraved lessons on his body and soul. For those of you who are interested in his life story and have plenty of time to spare.

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A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

While this whole website kinda works like my portfolio, every picture you see in the background and otherwise is taken by me, id still like to share some more of my collection, and even give access to better views on the background pictures you see. Id like to split these into NSFW ones and SFW ones. BE WARNED 18+ CONTENT will be present if you choose to check it out.

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Bare With Me My Friends, I Try My Best

Beyond the rusty gears that turn in Tyr's head there is a chill man who is here to make friends and have fun. Learn more about where you can get in touch with me and general info about myself. From boundaries to other personal things about myself I find relevant to share.

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Chapter 1: Origins of a Bastard

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In the outskirts of Gridania, where the gentle whispers of the Twelveswood met the bustling energy of city life, Tyr's story began. Born of a forbidden union between a Highlander and an Elezen, his mixed heritage marked him as an outcast from the moment he drew his first breath. Tyr's father, a Highlander who had sought refuge from the Garlean invasion, found solace and unexpected love in the arms of an Elezen woman. However, their joy was short-lived, as they started suffering from society's judgment. His father was shunned and consequently chased out of Gridania fo the percieved crime of being a "highlander refugee". He left Gridania in shame and alone, his wife and only child left to fend for themselves. His mother ashamed of both her husband and son, could not bear to raise Tyr on her own. In what was an easier choice than it should have been, she left Tyr on the doorsteps of an orphanage. This was the short and miserable extend of his parents love and influence on his life. Yet, through this hardship Tyr was learning to navigate a cruel world in a way his parents could never have taught him.As Tyr grew, his appearance—a mix of Hyur and Elezen features—served as a constant reminder of the taboo from which he originated. The idea of desirable Elezen features like pointy ears mixed with the unwanted foreign build and face shape of Highlanders did not do him any favours. Gridanian society, especially those of timely lineage, did neither understand nor care for the idea of mixed blood and saw him as tainted and lesser. The orphanage would become a crucible of bullying, harrasment and unfair treatment.The whispers and jeers became constant companions, shaping the boy to be emotionally unstable. This would in turn mold the already resentful young boy and fuel him with a desire for acceptance.
Years passed and Tyr came of age, now in his late teenage years. Working hard to be self-sufficient, he managed to gather enough supplies and gil to live independently. The desire to be accepted and treated equally boiled inside his heart, causing him to finally "go back to where he came from" and join the Highlanders that settled in Ul'dah. "A fresh start" the young man would convince himself.After making it to Ul'dah as a 19-year-old man, Tyr's phyiscal presence was already more imposing than average. Alongside the shared perks of his mixed blood, he had needed to train and fight regularly at the orphanage. He made a promise to never allow himself to be stepped over and bullied again. His pride and hatred of injustice would simply not allow it, and he would not hesitate to uphold his own honour.
While still new to Uldah, Tyr happened upon a young woman, clearly being targetted by what would later prove to be slavetraders. While not understanding the entirety of the situation, he knew when bullies were targetting the weak, and the very notion rose his fury. Sparing no second thought, he quickly and effectively broke bones and spirits. This was observed by UI'dah city guard that informed the military of his physical prowess and percieved sense of justice. From here, Tyr's destiny took an unexpected turn. Drafted into service for his combat skills, he rose through the ranks swiftly. The offer to join the military was everything Tyr wanted; he was finally accepted and given a chance to prove himself.However, the scars of his past would prove to haunt him yet again. Unable to escape the ever-present snidey comments about his lineage, Tyr's temper would lead to frequent brawls and clashes with fellow soldiers, tarnishing his military record. After dozens of assault charges and punishments laid upon Tyr, it didn't matter anymore how much of a good fighter he was; his emotional volatility was too much to handle, and an uncontrollable soldier is a dangerous one. A fact his commanding officer would learn after one comment too many. He was given a dishonorable discharge and was made an example of, by being sentenced an additional 3 years of jail. Upon his release, Tyr took to the unforgiving streets of Ul'dah once again. His criminal record barred him from honest work, but in return it opened the door for mercenary work—a hired muscle wielding his formidable axe for gil. This turn of events burned Tyr's hatred for society and social expectations. He hated it all, He was "Too Elezen" for highlanders, yet he was also "Too Highlander" for Elezens. In an act of defiance against societal judgment, he dyed his hair blonde and grew it over his pointy ears, symbols of his rebellion against the shame of his lineage. That, and to forge his own identity.

Chapter 2: A Pirate's Life

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In the seemingly neverending swirls of the Ul'dah alleyways, Tyr had embraced the life of a mercenary. In the dark shroud of the streets, the symbol of his dyed hair and the weight of his axe were becoming his allies in the pursuit of new contracts. Reputation was currency in this profession . The mercenary life, though harsh, was a world where Tyr's formidable skills and experience found purpose. Purpose and value. Despite the echoes of his past, the taste of freedom in the lawlessness of his new existence was intoxicating.Fate, however, had other plans for the displaced warrior. A chance encounter in a dimly lit tavern introduced him to an obscure adventuring crew operating in the waters near Limsa Lominsa. A band of petty criminals and misfits had managed to secure a sea worth vessel and was throwing dice with lady luck in hopes of stumbling across treasure. Unlike the murderous pirate crews that frequented Limsa, this band were more akin to treasure hunters and opportunists.A lack of caution and the allure of adventure and hope of belonging, drew Tyr to cast his lot with this hardened crew. Little did he know that this choice would lead to a turbulent, yet defining chapter in his life.
Having been welcomed into the adventurers crew, Tyr found camaraderie among outlaws and misfits. Jokes and laughter had finally replaced jeers and taunts. The crew was becoming the family he had sought for so long. The open sea, the rhythmic creaking of the ship, and the shared love for freedom became the backdrop of his new reality.Scouring abandoned beaches and shipwreck, fighting any beasts that might oppose, became part of his routine, and as they sailed the seas, Tyr's axe carved a path through adversaries. Quickly, he was earning the respect and, more importantly, friendship of the people around him. The pirate life, a stark contrast to the disciplined order of the military, allowed him to embrace a newfound sense of freedom. His heart felt as steady as the splashing of the waves against the hull of his new home.
The crew, with their shared distain for societal norms, provided a sense of belonging that went thicker than blood. The camaraderie and adventures that filled Tyr's days, made him forget the prejudices that once haunted him. In the vastness of the ocean, he found solace and purpose, becoming an integral part of the adventurers.As the crew navigated the unpredictable waters, Tyr's skills as a mercenary seamlessly blended with the daring exploits of piracy. The once solitary warrior discovered a sense of purpose that surpassed the admittedly mundane pursuit of contracts. The men, sharing his love of freedom, friendship and goals, had become the family he had sought all his life. The ship held his bed, but his home was with his new family.
In this new chapter of his life, Tyr set sail with a family that embraced him for who he was—an axe-wielding warrior unbound by the constraints of societal judgment. The pirate life offered freedom, friendship, and a chance for Tyr to redefine himself beyond the prejudices that had marked his past. As the sails billowed and the waves embraced the ship's hull, Tyr's journey from mercenary to pirate unfolded, marked by the echoes of laughter, the thrill of adventure, and the uncharted seas of newfound camaraderie.

Chapter 3: Primal Fury

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Alas, the open sea, once a sanctuary of freedom, became a crucible of fate for Tyr. On a fateful day, one that by all rights, should have been no different than any other, Tyr would find himself adrift. They had encountered a rival pirate crew, and the skirmish that followed, would shape Tyr forever. As opposing ships closed in, the air thickened with tension. The familiar scent of salt and sea breeze would only give brief respite before gunsmoke and the clashing of steel would fill the air in it's place. The battle that ensued was unlike any other, as comrades fell left and right, and Tyr would find himself on the precipice of death. Pushed to the limits of his physique, fueled by a deep-seated hatred and the primal instinct to survive, Tyr felt an awakening—a stirring of an ancient power dormant within him.In the heat of the battle, Tyr felt a sudden flash of rage. A hatred, a fury, like a lifetime of strife would burst his ribcage. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity. He was not seeing red as the singers and poets would mean it; he was seeing red literally. Red mist flowed in a bright intensity from his eyes, the world shrouded in blood. He let loose a spine-chilling war cry. The battle on the decks haulted for just a brief second. Then he released unbridled fury, ancient wrath manifested from a slumbering inner beast.His axe, an extension of his very being, became an instrument of merciless destruction. Unable to control the tempest raging within, Tyr descended into a reckless frenzy, his blows striking with deadly precision and terrifying strength. The very essence of his existence pulsed with raw, untamed power. Amidst the chaos, dozens fell before Tyr's onslaught. The opposing crew, overwhelmed by the unleashed force, retreated in fear. Some branded him a monster, screams of terror echoing in the wake of his rampage. Victory was theirs.As Tyr slowly calmed down, his frenzy reciding with the steadiness of his pulsating blows, he managed to regained himself, not fully aware of what had just came over him. As the literal mist cleared, his heart felt light, like a burden taken off his shoulders. He returned to his crewmates to offer aid, but to his shock, they recoiled in terror. What they had witnessed, Tyr had not. They were terrified of him. The bonds of friendship were shattered. Instead a palpable fear hung in the air. The crew, once bound by shared laughter and distain for normal society, now regarded him with fear and confusion. This time, Tyr had not been abandoned by his family, but decided to abondon them himself. The mistake of making them fear him, didnt sit well with him.The aftermath of that fateful day left scars not only on the hulls of the defeated ships but also on Tyr's soul. As the sea breeze carried away the echoes of battle, it couldn't carry away the fearful eyes that were engrained in the back of his mind. The camaraderie he had found, the family he thought he'd discovered, crumbled like a sand under a wave. A red wave.Haunted by the looks of his friends, Tyr grappled with the enigma of his inner beast. He didn't understand what came over him; he barely remembered the chaotic haze of blood and fire. What he did remember was feeling, not as much as vision. The unbreakable desire to survive. The fierce, burning hatred for his enemies. Whatever power had manifested within him now stood as a vague memory, a shadow over his identity. The adventurers, his family, could not forget nor understand. They had witnessed a monster in the shape of a man. Although not being said to his face, or hidden with remarks, Tyr knew. He knew he had lost his family yet again.In the silence that followed the chaotic frenzy, Tyr's journey took an unexpected turn. The echoes of that day lingered within him, a crude, haunting reminder of the beast within. The friendship that had once defined his exploring life slipped away like droplets of blood in the ocean, a last token of friendship.With no other choice but to leave his friends, Tyr was cast back into the lone life of a mercenary.Exiled once again, nothing new. But he had almost, just barely reached his goal. For a little while, he had in fact. So he believed. His taste of friendship and companionship fueled his willpower to understand what had happened that day.

Chapter 4: Self-Discovery

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Haunted by the memory of his recent uncontrollable frenzy, Tyr embarked on a quest for self-discovery. Driven by a deep-seeded need for answers, he would soon learn of martial scholars and texts, of people and places that could hold the answers he so wanted.
Through these channels and contacts, he would soon discover what was The Way of the Warrior. A school, or rather a discipline, a way of life, that allowed fighters like himself to reach in and tame this "inner beast", control it, and use it at will. These men and women that would call themselves Warriors studied, learned and practiced everything from the mental strength required to control their inner rage, to delicate fighting techniques that would make them surgeons with even the fiercest weaponry. The lore surrounding these formidable techniques emphasized the difficulty of maintaining balance and control while wielding the potent forces of The Warrior.Having learned of this ancient Way, Tyr found himself almost blindly focused on unveiling its secrets. He would scour through tomes, scrolls and all ancient texts he could come across. He would seek any single scholar with even a scrap of knowledge of this, scour entire libraries for just a page. A fire burned in him, a sense of need and purpose.Eventually Tyr's relentless quest for knowledge of this Way, would lead him to a dusty old archive, forgotten by even most scholars. In the depths of one of the libraries in Southern Cortheas, he would happen upon a fairly recent text, by standards, of a legendary master somewhere in the far East. A remaining Guardian of the Way of the Warrior. His heart skipped a beat, and he tucked the scroll safely away. His steps were loud in the old halls. His purpose even louder.While preparing for his travels to the East, Tyr would read, and reread the texts, over and over. Each time gaining more and more insight into the philosophical mechanics of the Way. It was not simply a martial art, as one would know it. It was a guideline to self-discovery. Self control. The texts spoke of the body being a mere extension of the strong mind."A strong body requires a stronger mind". He pondered this. The idea of the word. The idea of himself.With each revelation, Tyr's understanding of the warrior's way deepened. The pages of the ancient scrolls became a roadmap guiding him through the labyrinth of his own emotions. He realized that true mastery was not only about combat prowess but also about taming the tempest within.
The once almost angry need to complete the goals he set for himself, slowly turned into to a calm acceptance of the course of events that would unfold. He would reach The East. He would scale the mountain. He would seek The Master. This was a fact in his mind, a calm fact, like the calm, reassuring winds he felt on his chest.While performing his mundane works of mercenary and bodyguard duties, Tyr's mind would wander. It would envision the peaks of the east, it would ponder the meanings of the text, it would imagine the Warriors of old. He performed his jobs, almost automatically, almost abscently, while his mind was working on more important things.As the coffers filled and the promise of the journey beckoned. The time had come, he had saved enough gil, he had prepared sufficiently. Materialistically and otherwise. Without much ceremony, without any stray thoughts of regret, Tyr packed his belongings and took to the harbour, a calm fire smouldering steadily behind his eyes.

Chapter 5: The Path Of Self-Mastery

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The journey to the far east was looming ever closer to the horizon, the promise of growth and knowledge within grasp's reach. Tyr, having filled his backpack with all his important belongings, filled his heart with something even more important and set forth on a pilgrimage that would change him forever.As he left behind the familiar shores of Limsa Lominsa, Tyr would find himself upon the high seas yet again, his ship beneath his feet steadily cutting through the waves. The familiar spray of saltwater lightly carressing his face, briefly saw a smile betray his stoneset focused look. Like an old friend, it reassured him that the horizon would provide the answers he sought.The journey would conclude smoothly and see Tyr safely ashore in a foreign, strange but not entirely unwelcoming new port. He wandered this perplexing new place with a sense of wonder and curiosity, not unlike a child that does not yet know it is lost. The cultures and customs of this place, so far removed from the frantic normality of most of Eorzea, was something he didn't know he had longed for. He found himself soulsearching, discovering new things within as well as without.After indulging himself in brief customs and not so brief feasts, he set afoot towards his more pressing goals. Finding himself at the feet of high mountains with majestic peaks shrouded in mist, he likened them to ancient sentinels judging the worth of passerbys while guarding ancient secrets. Tyr made his heart like the rock body of these old guardians and started upon the path leading upwards. It was a treacherous journey, demanding not just physical endurance but a resilience of spirit. Tyr faced trials that tested his mettle—climbing perilous cliffs, braving harsh weather, and confronting flashes of doubt from within.At last, after what felt much longer than it should have, Tyr reached The Revered Monastery. The trip had exhausted him, but for the first time since he started climbing, he truly lost his breath. Carved into the face of the peak were halls that radiated sacred knowledge, strenght, wisdom... Answers. Something stirred within him, his tired legs regaining strength, his back straightening, his face drawn in determination. He felt as if his journey was only just about to begin. Somewhere in these sacred halls, The Master was waiting.Tyr entered the hall, more timid than a man of his size and reputation would normally enter a room. His eyes had only barely adjusted to the dim lights of the torches, before he was met with an imposing figure. Not in size, though the old man did not lack stature. But in sheer presence. Tyr felt him before he spoke.
"And what makes you think I have them?"
He was briefly dumbfounded, trying to make out a face to go with the peculiar question.
"Have what?"
"The answers you so clearly seek, boy. What makes you think I would hold them?"
What followed was an introduction of sorts.. The master would answer questions with questions, a smug, almost childlike glee behind each one. Tyr understood that the old Master was no stranger to the concept of teaching, and not opposed to add to the numbers of his sacred fighting halls. Tyr would have to convince the Warrior of his deservance on this sacred ground.Each ordeal he was put through was a test of body, mind and spirit. Every time the master would call him, he would have to face a new aspect of himself.The first real trial he would be put through, unfolded in the sparring grounds, a sacred pit under the upon sky. A pit where the sands held a different colour than the earth elsewhere, he noticed briefly. Here Tyr faced 8 warriors in a row, each who had a strange approach about them. Untill recently, he would assume them almost scared of him. He would have been wrong. Each opponent had the grace of a warrior in control. They sought to expose the chinks in his resolve, not to test his axe or the muscles wielding it. To test the heart that drove both. The clashes echoed through the mountain air, a testament to the struggle within Tyr.For the second trial, The Master led Tyr to a sacred chamber of meditation, one that felt almost older than the mountains themselves, though of course impossible... A realm where the deafening inner turmoil Tyr had always struggled with, could either be harnessed or lead to lead to his demise. Alone in the stillness, Tyr confronted his own demons—his anger, his fears, his doubts. Enemies far, far greater than the warriors that had given him the cuts he still felt. He would face the primal force that had manifested during that fateful pirate battle. The battle he fought within himself in this dark, choking chamber was fiercer than any he had ever fought. After what could have been either an hour or a week, the Master opened the chamber to find a pupil recembling the statues around him; hardened, calm, waiting.The third trial was one of discipline and control. A sacred virtue essential to mastering the Way of the Warrior. Here every weakness and strength was tested simultaneously. He had always thought his body strong, but he would learn that it was only as strong as his mind allowed it to be. He had always thought his will neigh unbreakable, but he would learn it could break when his body did. Everything had to be in harmony. A strong body demands a strong mind, and a strong mind demands a strong body.This had been only the application for his training. Only after enduring these trials, proving his mettle through sweat, blood, and introspection, did the master acknowledge Tyr's potential. The sage saw not just a man seeking power but someone on a genuine quest for self-mastery. With a nod of approval, The Grand Master of the Warriors welcomed Tyr into the sacred school.
With an almost shameful smile on his face, Tyr realized the naivity of the boy that had scaled the mountains at what seemed an eternity ago. He could hardly wait to start his training.

Chapter 6: Blossoms of Serenity

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"Be thankful, brother" Tyr thought to himself as he observed a tiger take down a prey, his hunger briefly satiated. His gaze moved from one action of nature to another. The cherry trees in the valley were dropping their leaves. A serene dance of pink almost obscured him in the midst of his meditation. He was not studying or learning the old ways of the Warriors. He was living them. They demanded not only physical prowess but also a deep connection with one's inner self. To calm The Beast, he had learned to calm himself. As the days turned into months, months into years, Tyr learned to channel his emotions into the fluid movements of combat, to make his mind and will an extension of his body and axe.
The trials and tribulations set upon him by the master were as diverse as the changing seasons. From meditative sessions under the cherry blossom trees to intense sparring sessions at the break of dawn, each challenge served as a stepping stone in Tyr's journey towards mastery. The cold mountain wind became his companion, the full spring scent his friend, the caress of the summer sun his lover, all whispering the secrets of discipline and resilience steadily into his ear.The training Tyr underwent however, was not confined to combat or meditation alone. The Master's well of wisdom went deeper than just that. A bond would form between the zealous student and the lonely teacher, one not unlike that of a parent and a child. The Master would teach Tyr valuable lessons, lessons that any decent father would teach a son to make him more decent than himself. Of all things, these talks, these very necessary lessons of life, would temper Tyr's patience and understanding of his surroundings. The boy was soon no longer, but a man instead.
During their many walks in the Cherry Valley, Tyr would come to understand things that most normal people took for granted. He would understand control and restrain and when to apply it. He would understand anger and sorrow, and when to embrace it. He would reflect upon his old self when he would be alone, and marvel at the difference a few wise words could do to a soul. He had hoped for knowledge when he left Eorzea, but he had found wisdom.Years would pass in the cut off world of the sacred mountains. His hair, once a symbol of defiance, would regain it's natural colour. Like a cherry tree shedding its leaves, to grow them once again grander and more beautiful. Tyr threw a fleeting look at the still fresh ink on his arm. A Warrior initiate's tradition, sore and painful, but matching the trees surrounding him. He brushed off a handful of fallen leaves from his broad shoulder, and stood up. He took a breath, an excersice he had learned to appreciate and smiled. "There is arrogance in grand things, Tyr. But there is greatness in the little things", his Master's words echoing somewhere behind his eyes.
The Master's influence extended beyond the martial arts and the mental fortitude of Warriors. It had become a beacon guiding his soul through the dark waters of doubt. In the, by now, rare moments he should feel lost, Tyr would look to his fathers guidance as a lighthouse. "My father" he thought with a sudden pang of embarrasment. But embarrased or not, it was not entirely untrue.In the silent halls of the mountain monastery, where he himself and countless other faceless warriors had faced their grueling but necessary regime, Tyr found enlightenment. As he stood reflecting upon a nameless tribute to a faceless warrior, a single cherry leaf, one missed by the brush of his large hand, caught his eye. He held it with the delicate grip of a tiger holding a cub in it's teeth, and pondered upon it. "But greatness in the little things"...He placed the petal in the bowl before the statue and walked away, his beast inside now more scared of him than he ever was of it.

Chapter 7: Wisdom Earned

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As the years of training drew to a close, Tyr would catch himself looking to new horizons. Not out of want, but need. The Master imparted a final lesson, one that would profoundly change Tyr; he had mastered the art of destruction, but all things require a balance and when you destroy, you must also create, and with that the master warrior introduced him to the world of craftsmanship. It was a way for a warrior to express himself, not with the stroke of an axe, but with a brush. Not with a cry of war, but a voice of song. For Tyr, he would swap his sharpened axe, with a forging hammer and take up the art of blacksmithing.The transition from warrior to craftsman was a journey within itself, in practicality very different from the harsh martial training, but spiritually very much akin. It required a level of focus, attention to detail and self insight that he quickly realized was quite identical to that of the warrior training. Like the stove that soften the iron, so did his heart now burn with dedication and love for this entirely new aspect of learning.
As Tyr delved into the intricacies of craftsmanship, he discovered a newfound joy—a passion that resonated with the core of his being. The act of creating, of molding raw materials into intricate designs, and forging tools that served a purpose beyond destruction brought a profound joy. However, what truly ignited the flame within him were the radiant smiles he witnessed on people's faces when they received the love of his labour.
The satisfaction he got from others as they admired and appreciated his work, slowly started to soothe the anger a younger version of himself had harboured towards society. Each smile was a testimony to the beauty he could bring into the world. He could bring not just brutal justice, but also an innocent joy into the world. Without being too aware of it, a calm balance started to form around the warrior.As easy as it was to loose himself in the joys of swinging axe and hammer alike, Tyr knew he had to return to Limsa Lominsa. He would return not only as a tested and proven warrior, but as a caring and skillful artisan. More than rage and vengeance or a desire to prove himself, he was driven back to his old city by a want to share in his craft and witness the joy his creations could bring people.
As the final lessons were being taught and the last tools hammered out, Tyr found himself with an almost melancholic gratitude towards his wise master. The bond he shared with his mentor had transcened that of student and teacher; it was a bond forged through self-discovery. With a heart tempered by wisdom earned from the Way of the Warrior and a newfound appreciation for the art of creation, Tyr prepared to venture back into the world.Back at the feet of the mountains, Tyr turned around and took a long gaze back at the Warrior Sanctuary that had been his home for years now. Somewhere inside himself, he had expected to be griefed and distraught at leaving perhaps the most important place in his life. But to his own surprise, he was not. He felt the calm wind more clearly though. He smelled the trees and the soil more strongly. He felt a deep peace and calmness within himself. The cherry blossoms that adorned his body, symbols of peace and beauty, had gained more profound meaning, even after they had been applied on his body. Meditating on the lessons learned and the blossoming self-acceptance within him, Tyr set his sights on Limsa Lominsa—the city that he had left as a mercenary, he would return to as a Warrior. As he embarked on the journey back, a mixture of emotions surged within him—anticipation, uncertainty, and a profound sense of gratitude for the guidance that had reshaped his path.
All of which he embrased with an experience beyond his years. His pack was lighter than when he had arrived, yet the things he carried back to Limsa Lominsa were much, much heavier.

Chapter 8: A Spirit Reforged

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Once again back in the bustling port city of Limsa Lominsa, Tyr settled in some humble quarters of the working district. He wasted little time in finding work and sanctuary at the blacksmith and armorer guild. The guild forgehalls were larger and much more busy than the forges he had learned his skills at. The rhythmic symphony of hammer against anvil resonated with his soul. His peculiar techniques and odd choices of design stood out amongst his peers, and as he honed his skills and love for creating, Tyr's reputation as a master crafter flourished both within the guild's walls, and in the streets of the city.
Some of the people recognizing these new and very distinct designs were none other than the Grand Company of the Maelstrom themselves. Soldiers by trade, these professionals had a keen eye and great appreciation for solid weaponry and reliable armor.
Recognizing both of these things in Tyr's handywork, the Maelstrom approached to enlist him. As much as he loved crafting, Tyr also loved his axe and his Warrior heart ached to swing it against worthy foes. He told the rectuitment officer of his tarnished record from Ul'dah, to which the seaworthy soldier scuffed and said "Do you see sand in my beard, blacksmith? No? Because we are not in Ul'dah. The Maelstrom welcomes, should you wish to join the ranks".Tyr's journey through the Maelstrom was a testament to his versatility. His imposing size as always impressed his equals, but there was some initial doubts as to wether a blacksmith, even of his size, could fight as well as craft. This notion was short lived as he transititioned effortlessly from craftsman to warrior. No longer harboring a naive desire to prove himself, his calm demeanor, hearty smile and infectious confidence saw him fit as a natural leader and promotions would start piling upon him.
As he climbed the ranks, without desire for competitiveness or recognition, his fellow troops from recruit to senior officers found themselves drawn to him, and he formed a natural bond with his regiment. Unaware of the fundamental change Tyr had undergone in the last many years, the men and women around him would hail him as a comrade and count him amongst the most trustworthy in a crimson uniform.

Chapter 9: Legacy In The Making

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The old familiar roaring of waves blended with thunderous cannons, an anthem of a previous life, once again became the backdrop of Tyr's days. Battles raged, and wars unfolded as he led his squadron to victories that anthemed his ascension through the ranks of the Maelstrom. His prowess in both the forge and the battlefield was recognized, rewarding him with well earned respect and admiration among his peers. Yet, amidst the cacophony of war, a quiet realization began to emerge within Tyr.Back in his bunk after battle, Tyr was pondering with self insight and found an entirely new desire within himself. A desire for something more profound, something more permanint, more.. His. The dream of a legacy, a Free Company to call his own, started to take a hold of him. The need to fight not for a political ideal or material gain, but to fight for something more important, almost immaterial. That is what he wanted, what he needed. He had little interest in nations squabbling, he wanted to fight for something more important. The people around him, his neighbours, his friends, all the things that are so easy to take for granted. The wisdom and love he had learned to hold dear, that is what he would share and fight for. The friendships and bonds forged in the following battles only served to cement this feeling. Tyr envisioned a sanctuary in the bustling Mist, a place of permanence, nurture, learning. A place for the likeminded, where he could share the knowledge he had gained.The decision to resign from his role as a Storm Captain came not as a retreat but as a conscious step towards a greater purpose. The Maelstrom had taught and shaped something in him, no less important that what the Master in the warrior sanctuary had.
The qualities of a leader and the confidence to exert those qualities. Not necessarelly held back by the strict military heirachy, he had found himself at least limited by it. What he wanted was a private company build on his own principles, on his own terms.
Tyr, now by all means could not be considered a poor man thanks to his service at the Maelstrom, but more so to his skills at the forge, set himself a new goal. By advice, he sought The Mist, a more lavish residential areas than the backstreets of central Limsa Lominsa. Here he spent perhaps the most sensible small fortune he ever would, and aquired a house. Humble by local standards, but a palace in his heart. The foundation of this sanctuary was laid not only in bricks and mortar but in the principles of mentorship, friendship, and the pursuit of a higher purpose. His hands, once instruments of destruction, now became tools for creation, fashioning a legacy not just in war, but for a more permanent future.As the first beams of dawn bathed the Mist in warm, golden hues, Tyr stood before the door of his new residence. The journey from a rejected orphan to an accomplished warrior of old creed, all the way to even Storm Captain had been long. Long and tiring. However, in this moment a feeling of relief and gratitude washed over him. Within these walls he and people like him would rejoice. The legacy he sought to build was not just a Free Company; it was a testament to resilience, willpower, self-discovery, and the enduring pursuit of happiness in whatever form it might present itself.
Tyr stood with the feeling of a chapter of his life closing. All his life had been a series of impernanence, stepping stones sinking under his weight.
Gazing upon the splendid frame of his house, a new chapter started to unfold within him. This was not a slippery stepping stone, this would be permanent, dry rock to catch his breath on. It would be his corner of the sacred monestary, a place of learning and growing, of laughter and calmness. A home.

Chapter 10: Destiny Reshaped

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Tyr put the shears down. He had been deeply concentrating on the task in front of him. Of all the things his old Master had taught him, this was the one thing he never really truly understood. Iron and mineral, these he could practically bend to his will, but the vast cherry tree in front him was a different matter. Still, even if not as grand as the ones in the valley of the warriors, this one was his and grand enough as it stood proudly in front of his company house, providing a scented shade for any to sit in.
He turned to see a pair of his company brothers laugh and dissappear inside the house. A familiar warm breeze carressed the skin on his chest as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the world around him.
Under his leadership, the house in the Mist had transformed into a sanctuary where bonds were forged and flourished. Not so much bonds of friendship, but of family. Brothers and sisters in arms, united not only by their shared pursuits but moreso by their enduring love for one another.He showed a gentle smile to none but the cherry tree and leaned against the garden railing, reflecting.
From a bastard child, an unwanted orphan in a cruel world. From a young man blinded by predujice to a mercenary bought with dirty gil. From a warrior in a distant land to a captain of the Maelstrom. From a lone boy to a man blessed with family.
This was the story of a man who refused to be broken, who carved a legacy not in stone or steel but in the hearts of those he loved. As the last rays of sunset dissappeared behind the sea, Tyr stood and strectched. He turned towards the cherry tree and his beloved home with clear determination and excitement for tomorrow.

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Every background picture used in this website (not including the ones you can view during the lore section)

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With Friends

Pictures I took with friends throughout the years, as you can tell from the few times Tyr changes a bit, hairstyles and colors

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Random pictures and memes I made throughout my time

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