Raiders of the Obsidian Sun

Awakening, Prologue

The Year of Priest’s Defiance
190th King’s Age
Altaruk

* * * * *

The lump on the back of your head is all the reminder needed that you are not where you were when last conscious. You breath in stale, oppressive air and notice a few around you do the same, all prisoners dressed in rags. The light of a few guttering torches tells you that you are currently the guest of a dungeon, an arena pit by the looks of the racks of bloody and well-used weapons. You discern you are probably in Altaruk, by the tidbits of heated conversation between the guards down the hall. The confining cage around you does not let you stand or stretch.

You shake the cobwebs from your head, but there is a veil of haze in your memories. You think your name to yourself, then try to remember yesterday, or the day before, or anything else before today, but nothing comes to mind.

Your movements bring the attention of the trio of guards down upon you. “Pipe down, criminal,” threatens a tall mul. He hammers the butt of his spear into your side, but you do not give him the satisfaction of a grunt of pain.

“Do not hurt him too badly,” says the female dwarf with a purr, “they become flaccid and useless if you tenderize them too much.” She licks her lips and crudely scratches her nether regions underneath her armor.

As you coil back in disgust, the third guard roughly pushes them aside. “Shut up, both of you. This riffraff is scheduled to die in the arena tomorrow for their crimes. Leave them in their misery for one last night.”

The air around the guard ripples and you taste the familiar discharge of psionic power before it washes over you. The ground rushes up at you, but not before darkness descends.

Tomorrow is going to be a bad day…


DM Notes:

Create a character according to the house rules, but do not select a Background—not until you can remember who you are. Athasian weapons are not made from metal and you should specify what material your weapons are made from. Any unspent money left over is gone—you are prisoners after all.

As for your “amnesia”, you can remember your name and all the skills of your craft, but you cannot remember your past, your background, or your upbringing. You retain basic and historical information about Athas, but no personal history.

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Palladion

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