Do you remember?

"I don't."

You were a force to be reckoned with. A boy who rose to power over a naval group, an army of symbiote imbued warriors, and who associated himself with some of the greatest adventurers Althanas has ever known. You were a student of Time itself, a warrior, and had the scars to show it.

"I don't remember any of that."

Only because you don't want to. You refuse to. Pretending it never happened doesn't make it go away.

"It does when you control time."

Going back won't get rid of the Nightmare.

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(OOC: This is a solo quest to correct inconsistencies in my characters history, abilities, and inventory. The only spoils I request - as I can not do so in character - is to be able to repost my Level 4 profile with the updates from this thread, and to keep the items which are not lost or discarded during this quest.)

Torin leapt awake suddenly, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Where the hell am I?" he thought, looking around the room. Candles, barely flickering on the end tables allowed him to see shapes around the room, but nothing he could make out.

"What..." he trailed off, looking around again. There was a table with a piece of parchment with something scribbled on it and a pile of clothes and weapons on it to his left. He rose out of the bed and walked over to it, picking up the note.

You won't remember anything. Don't try to remember. It's not worth it anymore. These are your things. I took them off you before you..did what you had to do. There's only a few things you need to remember. One, you are Torin Reahkari. You are twenty three, and you live in Etheria Port. Two, people will know you, but you do not know them. Be careful who you make friends with.

- Torin

"Why would I write a note to myself?" Torin thought, reading over the note one more time.

"This doesn't make any sense." he mused, tossing the note aside on the table, looking over what was in front of him. A pile of clothes, a long coat, daggers, a crossbow, a giant sword. What need did he have for any of this? This was enough weapons for a group of bandits, but for some reason he was carrying all this around with him before he awoke? Bullshit. To the left of the clothes was a small oak box. Curious, Torin opened it to reveal cigarettes and matches.

"I don't know why, but damn do I want one of these." he thought, pulling over a chair and sitting down. He removed one of the cigarettes, and brought it to his mouth. This still didn't make any sense. Why would he write himself a note? And why couldn't he remember how he got here? Or anything before that? He sighed, striking the match off the side of the box and lit the cigarette between his lips, inhaling deeply. The burning end of the cigarette illuminated the note again.

He looked around the room, barely able to make out some ink and a quill on the dresser. He walked over and grabbed them, bringing them both back over to the table. He stretched the parchment out next to the pile of clothing and weapons, dipped the quill in the ink, and began writing.

My name is Torin Reahkari.

The writing was the same. So it was him who wrote the note. So why did it feel so weird to write his own name?

"I'm not going to get any answers just sitting here." he sighed, walking over to the window, opening it, and flicking his cigarette out of it. He stared up into the sky, looking at the full moon lazily staring back at him.

"What a clear night.."

He walked back over to the table, moved the daggers aside, and began to get dressed.

(OOC: Clothing consists of 1 black linen sleeveless shirt, 1 pair of navy blue denim jeans, 1 black leather trenchcoat, 1 pair of black leather linen-lined gloves (with hidden Delyn claws), 1 pair of black leather boots, 1 brown leather belt, 2 brown leather belt holsters for daggers, 1 brown leather shoulder holster for Tanzalis.