Felicia the Brave

The eerie, muffled sounds of movement in the underbrush surrounds you, gently stirring branches and crackling leaves. A dense mist obscures your vision further than a stone's throw, so you must simply hope that whatever cursed creature has been stalking you is a scavenger, and not something worse.

Your memory betrays you: you recall stepping through a great gate, plummeting into a vortex, and wanting to... but you can't remember why. When you awoke, you were... here. Wherever here is. A cursed, once-great land of vile beasts and wretched folk, minds long lost, but for some. A scant few folk you've met have been helpful, but similarly, without memory.

A distant sound snaps you out of reverie. If you didn't know better, you'd have guessed- "HA! Fuck off, you saggy shits! Get a taste of THIS!" -a battle cry? Someone's clearly having a bad day, despite the confidence in their voice. It's hard to gauge due to the fog, but they can't be too far off.