Role

Chapter 1

Despite its tattered flesh, and no obvious way of breathing, the skeletal
creature cackled as it gripped Bazz's head in one hand. The world faded away as
an icy chill filled his body...

*So cold...*, he thought.

But he was not dead. He opened his eyes, and sat up. Covered in mud and
surrounded by darkness, he seemed to be in a cavern of some sort. At least the
cold was real - the scraps of leather he seemed to be wearing barely provided
any comfort or protection from his surroundings.

He had no memory of coming here. His head was full of dreams that felt too
real: He could remember the feeling of power as he stood atop a mountain,
surrounded by fire and ice as he filled the sky with magical power. He knew the
calm focus of pacing through the night's shadows, dressed in black, poisoned
blade in hand. The longer he thought, the more he remembered. But these could
not all be the memories of one man.

*Are any of these real?*

Self reflection ceased as an angry beast charged into the cavern from out in
the darkness. Surprised and afraid, Bazz could do little but shrink into
himself. The beast charged - CLANG! - and it's tusks slid off a hard shell that
had encased Bazz's body. Reflexively, Bazz struck back and found himself
holding a small knife embedded deep into the creatures heart.