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.” I stare at the woman for a moment before I take a step further into the tent. I'm slightly taken aback, it's not often someone asks for my story. "I am-...I don't know who I am or what my story is, really. At least not..before."
I'm too distracted by getting my words out to step any further and take a seat, so I ramble on. "Grandmother found me wandering in the woods at eight years old, a bloody cut over my left eye making me blind." I move my hair aside to show her my scar.
"I had and still don't have any memory of how I got this scar, how I got to those woods in a human settlement, where I came from, or who my family is. All I knew was my given name. Thankfully, Grandmother took me in and raised me as her own from then on. It was a little awkward seeing as Grandmother was an elederly human raising a young dark elf, but she loved me all the same and cursed at anyone who dared to speak ill of me. She was quite the funny old woman, I miss her so much..." I trail off. Wait. I don't know this woman, so how was she waiting for me?
"Hold on, did you know me?" I rush over to the cushion now and sit down. "Did we know each other before I lost my memory?" I speak quickly as I grab her hands. "If you know anything, please tell me!" I look into her eyes, searching for answers, hoping she knows something I don't.
