A powerful cleric with a mysterious past haunted by visions and violent nightmares.
You vomit water and gasp a breath of air like it’s your first. Waves crash against the shoreline. Your eyes snap open. Colors seem dim, and every sound is foreign and filled with newness. The air is thick with heat and humidity but rather than warmth, a chill emanates from within you, making your chest feel heavy and your extremities feel ablaze. The world appears strange, and as you struggle to rise from the sand, you have the sense that you control a body not your own.
And nothing is your own. You know that. You remember that. That’s when other memories come. Before this place, you struggled in . . . somewhere cold. You were being crushed by water in the lair of something powerful. All was dark, but it was also somehow alight with flowing color—as if the currents glowed instead of the stars. Water blurred everything, veiling the waterscape into funereal forms. And before that . . . other memories— scenes, faces, feelings—all a jumble, all confused like a half-forgotten dream.
You remember being aboard a ship. You remember braving a raging storm before the hull was smote by lightning. The mast burned as you were dragged under the waves by debris. You struggled desperately to free yourself and to break the surface, then … nothing.
You know one thing for certain. You were dead. Judging from how you look and feel, you might be a little dead still. You turn towards city lights up the beach and start walking, noting all you can about what you see and hear as you go. You might not remember everything about who you were, but you can make new memories while you try to find out. Checking your body for injury, you feel metal scales against your chest. You open your shirt and see a golden mantle under your armor against the skin. It shimmers in the moonlight and you seem to draw strength from its aura.
Something else hounds your thoughts as you strike out into an eerily familiar world: The dead don’t come back to life by accident. Someone did this to you, and whoever that was had a reason. Then it hits you. In the deep you made a pact with an entity of unimaginable power; a deformed humanoid with tentacles for hair and its hand made of water. It returned you to life and in exchange you swore an oath of fealty. It communicated with you for what seems like an eternity with all the details of your quest, but all is forgotten to you but the first. You must go to a tavern in the city ahead called (ironically enough) the Rusty Pirate. You remember nothing further of your mission or this meeting but what the creature called itself: the Dweller in the Depths.