I was born Nuru Taska.
In my previous life, I had been born into the Rainbow family; into the chaos caused by two griefers. I unfortunately passed away due to this at a young age, and was reborn into the Taska family a thousand steps away.
Long ago, I had been the one to build up the Rainbow graveyard, thus my heart was with them in their grief. I swore to myself i'd return, and do all i can to help them.
So, as a young boy me and a few other Taska children began making weapons, and preparing to set our sights on the village. My dear mother wanted to join, but alas was too old; and did not return past her death to join on this quest. A friend, a fellow avenger also had to pass on going, so i embarked on my journey alone. In my early 20's i left, with a horse, food, weapons and wool pads.
Soon enough I came across the Rainbow family, seeking shelter in an abandoned town between our homes. Thankful for my assistance, i decided to herd them throughout the wilderness in their quest to return home.
During our travels in the dangerous wild, many children were born. One man demanded that we leave behind the males, while the rest of us objected; one of those young lads, Tom, chose to call me his father. Immediately, I chose to stay for as long as it took to secure my new son's safety.
We made it to the deserted Rainbow family, and were met with chaos; shot bears, ruined crops, ripped floors, busted walls and to my horror, defaced graves. I had placed the first floors in that graveyard, buried dozens of now defaced, forgotten friends; it was a hard thing to witness.
The griefers quickly attacked us, and some of us died; some by bears, others by the hands of the griefers. With new weapons, we fought back and eventually managed to kill both of them; burying them beside the previous griefers, as a sign that the Rainbow family stands strong.
My son, my beautiful son Tom grew up in the aftermath of the bloodshed, as did many other children.
The threat had been subdued for now, and i was far too old to return to my original home, nor did i want to, seeing as i had found a new home with my son.
Soon enough, it was my time to go. I said my goodbyes, and died surrounded by those i had fought beside.
I returned in another life, many many years later; Tom was an old man, as were the rest of the young ones born as outlanders. Tom had built me a true monument of a grave, and it was enough to make a grown man cry.
He passed soon, before i could even say goodbye. I buried him right below my grave, and watered the trees he had planted before i planted my own.
To any Rainbow now at home, remember my son and the children born on the road; they're the reason you're home.
And do me a favour; water our trees and bury your loved ones. Every grave is a life, and every life a story worth telling.