You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
"Who, me? You've...been expecting me, huh? This day keeps getting weirder and weirder..." You sit down on the cushion in front of the crone, and sigh. "I was from a town up north. I don't remember too much of my past, as my memory was lost some time ago, and since then I've been trying to regain it. This town I was from was somehow attacked. I woke up in the middle of nowhere, and just set out on my own. Surviving, if you will."
The old hag responds, "Ah, a survivor, I see. How long have you been out here? What do you recall of your past?"
Another sigh. "It's been a good few months since then. I've been going on quests, trying to make a name for myself. The Inventor. A creative warrior with a thumb for redstone." You grin. "Supposedly, in this town I used to live in, I had a team of friends. During this so-called attack, they too were scattered across the land, with lost memory. I'm trying to find as many of them as I can, while hunting down whoever was responsible for these events."
The woman turns her head. "If you lost your memory, how did you find out about what had happened?"
You respond, "I'm not quite sure. A stroke of luck, I suppose? A large village was not too far from where I first found myself. It was a temporary home of mine. Its library contained a ton of old information and history, but one book stood out to me."
You pull out a massive tome, which contains the history of this world.
"It has a lot of history as to significant events of the past, even a chapter about an unknown group taking over cities and using some sort of magic to spread fighters across the land, with no recollection of who they are. I guess I somehow retained some memory, since this event felt oddly familiar, as if it were something I had experienced first hand."
"Well, what draws you to this old town, eh? Not too much goes on around these parts, you know."
You respond to the hag, "I'm mostly passing by. I believe I'm on a lead as to who was responsible for these events. I also aim to find these friends- or fellow fighters I used to know before I lost my memory."