Journal of a Travelling Warrior – Part 4: A New Hope

My return to Middle-earth has awakened a renewed yearning within me for worlds of old. I must be getting senile, this sentimentality to relive past experiences only manifests in warriors coming to the end of their journey. No, that is not I. My thirst for […]
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My return to Middle-earth has awakened a renewed yearning within me for worlds of old. I must be getting senile, this sentimentality to relive past experiences only manifests in warriors coming to the end of their journey. No, that is not I. My thirst for blood is as powerful as ever, but I am also curious to see what changes have befallen my old hunting grounds in my absence.

Curiosity indeed gets the better of me, and before I know it I am re-entering a galaxy far, far away.



Much like Middle-earth,  The Old Republic has undergone a radical change, following the same path that has allowed masses of lesser travellers to enter the realm. Where I am a Founder of this world, wilfully paying a contribution with each cycle of the Moon, there are now hordes of ‘casual’ travellers willing to run around with limited abilities. While I understand this makes the world a richer place to visit, it riles me that there are so many wanting to experience the intricacies of this realm but not willing to contribute.


I find myself returning to The Old Republic at just the right time, as it appears that the Hutt Cartel are starting to cause some trouble. My timing was always good, it is a necessary skill to have to survive as long as I have, but it is no coincidence that I have chosen now to return. For months I have been reminded that the Hutts are coming, but it is only recently that I have had the desire to act on my impulse. I am glad I did, as upon setting foot back on Old Republic soil I am immediately drawn back into the Republic’s plight.

 The resurgence of the Hutts have had a major impact on the world as I remembered it. As my warrior lands on Taris, one of the lesser planets in the system, there are a few things that are blatantly obvious. My skills and talents have been reset, with a new path to progress upon as I grow, but more significantly, everybody now runs around with a symbol above their heads. It is a while before it occurs to me that those symbols correspond to their class, a simplistic attempt to easily identify everyone. It baffles me why this is required, surely these new travellers are intelligent enough to identify classes by sight…but then again…

It will take me a bit of time to acclimatise to this world again, I’ve been away for far too long and the changes the Hutts have bought with them seem far ranging. For the main part, the core of the world seems the same, if unspectacular. Everybody needs my help, from the decorated General to lowly civilians – their pathetic necessity to call out for aid is truly uninspiring, but there are nuances that makes their simple requests bearable. The way this world is set, featuring full interaction with the locals and choices in conversation patters, really add a depth to the experience not found on other worlds. In all my travels, it is only here that I can choose how I talk to these inhabitants, and decide whether to uphold my honour and respect or just be an ass. It is a truly refreshing and immersive addition, but it pales in comparison to the biggest different over other worlds – there isn’t a boar in sight.

No boars, not a single one! I rejoice at the thought that I will not have to kill another one of those creatures for a while, and while there are Rakghouls here to take their place, it makes a welcome change to my usual killing spree.

Enriched by the thought that I don’t have to kill more swine, I prepare to continue my journey into Taris, but before I do so there is one thing that I have to do. Ensuring there is nobody around to see this (I wouldn’t want these rookie travellers to think I am one of them), I find an isolated area and draw my weapon.


The whiz, bur then hum as my weapon unsheathes brings a tingle to my rough and scarred skin. I have drawn thousands of weapons in my lifetime, but nothing comes close to this experience. The sound makes an immeasurable difference here, one that is instantly recognisable to travellers of my age, and it cannot be understated how much a few simple tones can affect a world. In The Old Republic, the sound is key, for without it my weapon would not be the spectacle it is today. Intricate yet simplistic, elegant but deadly, the lightsabre is truly the weapon of Gods.

I cannot put my finger on what it is that makes me feel like this. As a seasoned traveller I have seen  and used many weapons more impressive than a lightsabre, yet none come close to elicit the feeling that runs through me when I draw it. No other weapon brings the same amount of joy as this does, and I can spend hours just staring at myself with the lightsabre drawn.

It is foolish, to act like a child holding his first weapon, but I do not care. I dare anyone to challenge me with this weapon drawn, I would cut them down with both grace and deadly force!



With lightsabre in hand, and having fulfilled my vein lust, I finally head out into the wilderness of Taris to tackle both the Rakghoul and Imperial threat. I can hear them quaking with fear already!

I am Kallam. I am a warrior. I am a Jedi of the Old Republic.


Journal of a Travelling Warrior is an alternative look into the warrior classes of various games, written from the viewpoint of the character himself. These articles are not intended to be reviews of the games featured and account for only the author’s experiences within the respective games.


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