Mario. Sonic. Master Chief. Cloud Strife.

We all remember the name of the hero in the game. The player we control, the one who beats the bad guys, overcomes the obstacles, and scores all the points. But what about the characters we don't remember. The ones who truly make a game what it is. Let's face it, you could make a game about running around in a world devoid of interaction with other characters, but it wouldn't be much fun, now would it? Unless of course that world was filled with neat toys for you to play with, like gravity guns and jeeps and rocket launchers.

No, the characters playing those bit parts flesh out the world of the game, and create for us a deeper, more meaningful experience. It is well past time we recognized their worth. When commenting, feel free to leave me with the names and games of those you feel aren't recognized, solely because of their status as minor characters. In this first installment though, we will delve into the past of a man who found a niche for himself through the sheer power of his own name: Error.



Error, christened Errol Rorgenson, was born in the town of Rauru to Roger and Alberta Rorgenson. Errol was a lonely child. He was an only child, and a glandular condition led to a weight problem, for which he was tortured mercilessly by the other children in town. As is always the case, once the cruel creatures we call schoolchildren find one flaw to harp on, they will always pick at the carcass to find further insulting nuggets of flesh. Due to an unfortunate mistake by a teacher in reading his name during attendance, Errol would forever be known as Error to his classmates. In fact, he was called by that name so often, he began to introduce himself as "Error" instead of "Errol".

By the time Error reached age 16, he was going nowhere. His parents' business was failing, and no other jobs were available in the small town. Error felt it would be best for both him and his family if there was one less mouth to feed, and set out on his own. With a rucksack containing a bottle of milk and his most prized posessions, he began to travel the world, performing odd jobs for food and lodging, and when those weren't available, he lived off what he could find in the wild. The constant walking and rough living were enough to counteract his glandular condition, and though he would never be called thin, a thick layer of muscle formed under his respectable bulk. Lacking a razor, he grew a thick, black beard, giving him a somewhat gruff appearance, but Error was happy to have it when the weather grew cold.

After years of traveling, Error settled down in the town of Ruto. He had earned a small amount of gold in his travels, and used it to rent out a house in town from an old man. Unfortunately, his troubled childhood and lack of significant human interaction during his traveling years had left Error with little to no social skill, and among the people of Ruto was considered somewhat of an eccentric. He lived alone, his only furnishing a long wooden table, and none of the town's residents could recall having a conversation with him that had gotten past a basic introduction. The only one whom Error spoke to regularly was the old man he rented the house from, and even he was soon gone. One day, when going to pay the rent, Error discovered a letter addressed to him stating that the old man had been forced to move suddenly, and had left the house to Error. Error, bewildered and alone, grew more and more withdrawn with each passing month.

It was this Error who one day awoke to find an armed man dressed in green who had broken into his home. Terrified, he could think of nothing to say, except what he said to everyone else.

"I am Error."

The man in green looked at him quizzically, and tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

"I am Error," Error repeated.

Though looking disappointed, whether with the conversation or the lack of items in Error's house to take, the man in green left without another word. Error breathed a sigh of relief. Days passed, and Error forgot the incident, until one day the man in green appeared again. He had been sent by the old man, who knew of Error's travels and had thought his expertise might help this young man in his quest. Happy to finally be of use to someone, Error gave what hints he could to the young hero. The young fellow left, and Error sat back on his table, satisfied. Perhaps he wasn't such a failure. He had given aid to a hero. Bolstered by this new feeling of confidence, Error started his own business, working as a guide to those who wished to travel Hyrule. Though he wasn't a hero in the same sense as the young man in green, he saved many lives with his knowledge of the realm and its terrain and inhabitants.

Error was an error no longer.