Making Up for Lost Time
05-18-2016, 10:03 PM
Before your eyes are even open, the sweet scent of mead fills your nose, the pleasantness soured by an undercurrent of vomit. A pulsating pressure in your head builds to a throb as the sounds of shouting and singing emanate up through the floorboards. With hesitation, you open your eyes and find yourself hunched over in your chair with your head on a rough wooden table.
As the grainy filter of sleep fades away from the corners of your vision, the room becomes clearer. A few candles flicker at the center of the table, casting shadows on a few flagons and a torch sconce against the doorframe to your left illuminates the rest of the room. The music from below is growing to a crescendo as a uniquely out-of-tune voice belts out a chorus in a language you don't understand. Through an open window, you can hear a few horses trudging through the mud as a thick sheet of rain pours down.
Your left hand begins to ache and you wonder why. Peeling off one of your leather gloves reveals a crude tattoo of an "X" on the back of the hand, stretching from knuckles to wrist. It feels like a burn on your skin. Finally, your mind wanders back into focus and you try to assess the situation. You try to remember how you got here, but it's blank. You can't even remember what town you're in. You remember leaving that place you called home almost 6 months ago, but everything since then...you just don't know.
However, you do remember your name and what it is you do.
Who are you and what do you do?
As the grainy filter of sleep fades away from the corners of your vision, the room becomes clearer. A few candles flicker at the center of the table, casting shadows on a few flagons and a torch sconce against the doorframe to your left illuminates the rest of the room. The music from below is growing to a crescendo as a uniquely out-of-tune voice belts out a chorus in a language you don't understand. Through an open window, you can hear a few horses trudging through the mud as a thick sheet of rain pours down.
Your left hand begins to ache and you wonder why. Peeling off one of your leather gloves reveals a crude tattoo of an "X" on the back of the hand, stretching from knuckles to wrist. It feels like a burn on your skin. Finally, your mind wanders back into focus and you try to assess the situation. You try to remember how you got here, but it's blank. You can't even remember what town you're in. You remember leaving that place you called home almost 6 months ago, but everything since then...you just don't know.
However, you do remember your name and what it is you do.
Who are you and what do you do?