[i]Do you understand what you are? That in the great cycle of life, and as the wheel turns, you are nothing more than specks of dust blowing in the breeze. Are you really that important to the gods that look down on you from the sky above?

Do you understand what you truly are? Do you truly understand the role you will play in events to come, for the story of those who would come to bear the curse of azure is terrible indeed.

Yet it is far too late, and you are already in far too deep to get back out again.[/i]


[CENTER]***[/CENTER]

The sound of two dogs barking pierces through the hubbub of carriages and wagons passing by. 

You awaken, and as your eyes blink into consciousness once more, they take into view the surroundings around you. A simple straw tick covered with graying sheets. Above you, a timber roof can be seen held up by wooden supports. To the side, a wooden door is closed, yet a small amount of light can be seen coming through the edges of the cracks. Angling on the roof above you is a gabled window, through which the dying embers of sunset stream through, providing some faint illumination in the otherwise darkened room. The view of the small, yet quant and picturesque town through the window is pretty enough. Below you, wagons can be seen traversing cobblestone-ladened streets, splashing through puddles at the side of the carriageway. The sunset itself is a picturesque cornucopia of oranges, purples, hues of red and yellow that mix to make a beautiful miasma of colour set against the darkening sky.

It is evening, and people are starting to make their way home from a hard days work.

In the distance, the imposing edifice of a white-washed temple can be seen, however at this distance there are no markings to identify the deity that the temple is dedicated to. In fact, this whole area, the street below, the humble yet comforting thatched dwellings, is not familiar to you. You were not here, not inasmuch as you can remember. You were camped out in the wilds, on a road that was leading north to Daggerdale.

The sound of dogs barking is both loud, and insistent. It intrudes on your train of thought. Yet it is not the only noise inside your heads. In your mind's eye, you recall words spoken to you by another. Words softly spoken as memories come rippling forth unbidden.

[i]The sky darkens and the last rays of the sun disappear, leaving the landscape a rippling set of grays and shadows. You strain your eyes to discern movement near the camp. Any creature could creep up on you through these shadows....

All is quiet, then a voice echoes out of the gloom towards you.[/i]

[B]"Looking for something in particular, or are you just browsing?"[/B]

[i]Looking for something in particular?[/i]

It was strange really, for some reason you rather believed that you were looking for something. What that thing was, whatever it was you were looking for, it is gone now, lost in darkened memories that have been lost to the void of time itself. 

It is hopeless though. The speaker, whoever he was, is lost to your memories also. You remember the voice though, that you could never forget. It is not just that though. The memories of last night are gone to you. Where they once were there is nothing but a dark hole, almost as if someone had reached in and plucked them away from you. And then, as if from nowhere, a wild cacophony of seemingly random images suddenly assault your patchy memories. Dark-skinned warriors leaping out of the shadows, clutching wicked curved blades dripping with dark poison.

Drow.

And yet they were not alone. There were others amongst the drow. People clutching swords that exploded into burning fire. Beyond them all, something else.

Worse than the drow, at the very recesses of your mind, you see something else, floating. Several great, bloated orbs, tendrils extending out of the great, floating mass. Each one of the tendrils ending in a small eye. And in the center of the orb, one great eye and a wide, cavernous jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Amidst all these strange memories, one more voice amidst them all. A voice of questioning concern, although the speaker too, is lost to the void.

[b]"You can't remember, can you?"[/b]

Besides you, in the room you now lie, your gear has been packed neatly besides your beds. You reach for it, and stop -- as you notice your entire right arm has been covered by an ornate, gleaming tattoo, marked with strange and arcane symbols.

[hider=OOC] Welcome to the game one and all. You may make any roll here that you think is suitable?  Please make sure you provide a link to the roll as well when it is made.[/hider]