The Road Less Traveled

I came across a lone wanderer the other day.  I first spotted him and his mule at a distance but decided to approach anyways.  As I closed it appeared that his animal was covered in quite a variety of things - I hoped that this stranger might be willing to trade as I found my meager supplies wearing thin.  With hands open, I walked up to him and expressed my peaceful intentions.

He eyed me warily.  I do not know if he was just being prudent dealing with a stranger in the middle of no where or the inability to see my face through the mirrored mask.  With a few calming words and the glint of gold coins, he soon came around.  Wolfgang I think he called himself.  He told me he was a trader and made rounds out on the frontier dealing with the scattered settlements before making his way back to civilization.

After trading my few coins and salvaged items for additional provisions, he was kind enough to offer to share his camp with me - strength in numbers and all that.  I got a fire started and he prepared meals for the both of us.  I contemplated removing the mask to eat, but decided that though he seemed friendly enough, I couldn't remember enough to trust him fully.  It took some doing but I managed to eat from behind the mask.

We swapped some stories - though mine were a bit more vague both from an inability to remember clearly and being unsure of how much could be shared safely.  I was able to get some directions from Wolfgang as he told me about his travels - of particular interest was a small village where trade caravans come by from time to time.  With it pressing late into the evening we bedded down for the night.

At dawn we had a simple breakfast and Wolfgang was good enough to point me to the village.  As we parted company, he asked for my name.  "Zoltan.  You can call me Zoltan the Reformed"...

Signs and Portents

I had a dream last night.  I wandered through a grey mist - unable to locate anything.  There were no buildings, no trees, no nothing.  I wandered for what seemed to be an eternity when I came across a cloaked being weilding a scythe.  Darkness clung to the figure like a wet cotton tunic and the stench of death and evil pervaded its presence.  I kneeled before it and called it master.

The being gazed upon me with cold, lifeless eyes and while it spoke no words, its displeasure pierced my very soul.  I sensed that I had failed it somehow, that I was not worthy to be in its presence.  The figure raised a skeletal hand and waved me off, then turned away and disappeared into the mists.

Again I was alone and wandering the mists.  Another eternity passed before I came across another being.  This was a woman of pale skin, clothed in black robes that seemed to be made of feathers.  While her lips did not move, I could hear her words in my mind "There is work to be done, and I need you to get to it." 

Questions of the being I had called master arose in my thoughts, but even though I had not voiced my concerns, she spoke "He has cast you aside and I now lay claim to you.  I have reformed you into my own servant and it was time you were going..."  A flash of light engulfed me and then I awoke in the crude camp I setup miles from the place I had called home.

I knew this was no simple dream - it had a deeper meaning to it.  I shall have to ponder this deeply as I continue my journey.....

Endings and Beginnings

I awoke in the ruins of my home - at least I feel certain it was my home though I cannot manage to recall a single memory about it.  Searching about the ruins I find a fragment of mirror and see my reflection.  An old man with a haunted look as if it bore witness to many terrible things stared back.  I was certain it was me, but not a single recollection of the years before that must have been came to mind.  My childhood, my youth, my years as an apprentice... I could feel them like something just out of reach - I could almost touch them but yet they escaped my grasp.

Did I say apprentice?  Yes, that's right!  I am, or was a wizard.  With this small fragment of information a small flood of memories came back to me.  With some effort I found the remains of my study and found the hidden place where my books were kept.  While most had been destroyed, one that contained the most rudimentary spells was still intact.  As I perused the book, the old words of power began to fill my mind once again.  Yes, while much of who I was missing, my mastery of the arcane was still with me.

As I walked the ruins of my home, salvaging what I could, a nagging sensation began gnawing away at the back of my mind.  "This place is unsafe" the feeling said.  "You must go before they return!" it urged with increasing intensity.  Heeding its warning I gather my things and prepare to leave when the glint of silver catches the corner of my eye.  Digging in the rubble I find a mirrored mask - why I had such a thing I had no idea - but the urging in the back of my mind pressed me to take it. "Your name, your face are not safe!" it said and so I put on the mask as I prepared to leave my home for the last time.

But what to call myself?  I was not sure who I was so any name should do right?  Z... Za... Zar...  No.  Z... Zo.... Zol... Zoltan.  Zoltan, yes, that felt familiar and yet not at the same time.  Guess I will know for sure when I find my first settlement.  With one parting glance at the home I couldn't remember, I head south to what I hoped was civilization.