An attempt at a personal history

Sakr

Am I doing this right? Since I have one shot to get the personal history done, I don't want to botch this up:

 I was born as a trill. I can tell you that much. If this will be another story of an adventurer, or a story of one of the greatest minds alive, I will leave that up to you. I have two parents. My mother Saorise, my father Dakine. I have a daughter named Falina. I fell in love twice, made my share of mistakes, have my share of aspirations and goals. And I was born as a trill.

My first city was in Hallifax. A glorious city, mind you. The architecture, the fresh smell of books, the possibility of culture? It was the dream city that I was told about by my parents as a child. I stepped into the world of the Aeromancers not interested in scarring up through combat. I tended to avoid the groups of both battle hardened men and their children. The children that would listen to their parents and look up and tell each other tall tales of how the pigeon nips were dragon scars.

There were scientific men and women who would hurry by and measure and re-measure the beacons that kept the city afloat. That would take specimen upon specimen of animals and creatures through my guildhall, they wouldn't interest me. There was this faeling once, which is ironic as I have become one later on in my life, but there was this faeling that was kept under observation at one point. His pointy ears and nimble body was kept within a small cage. Those pleading eyes drew me to him, and I noticed almost too late that they hid these sharp teeth that snarled as he swiped as I stepped too close. Startled, I ran away.

No, my interest was in commerce. I studied how gold changed hands and had a fascination to that. My fascination with learning about supply and demand and wanting to control that invisible hand in my direction and whim. I used to step into library upon library, asking my parents to let me stay there when they went hunting or fighting for their city. And I would pick up everything I can to learn and read more of the great merchants in the Basin.

And I would usually sit next to the librarian's desk, lying down on the floor with books stacked taller than me. I would lie on my stomach and read, kicking my feet back and forth in the air. The picture books of illustrations of Ritcher and Deepnight interested me. How this one man amassed such a large fortune that he could make his own city. Another day I read stories of Krellan, and how he swept the sparkleberry market aside by maintaining a monopoly on astral. There were books of a certain Vermilla who would own cartel over cartel of designs, never needing to use an outside source. And lastly the man named Ardmore, who serves as both my inspiration and goal to beat. It is funny to me now, how the world is different after you grow up. That these books that would be my fuel to discover the world would lead me to be shunned by the very people I aspired to be.

So I began drafting up my goals. I would beat Ritcher and make a city he would visit and congratulate me for building. I would control a niche like Krellan would and revolutionize that market. I would have cartels with all these glorious designs with my name on it. That Sakr designed this, that Sakr designed that. And that I would be able to look eye to eye with the man I respected most! And each night I would sit at the desk in the guildhall and work and study and learn more. And then, one night, I decided to make my move.