All Is Fair in Hate
"Who are you?" You blink across at the woman as she picks her knitting back up and continues to knit together something that looks strangely like a sweater with six sleeves. It captures your attention for a brief moment. Six sleeves? You squint at the fabric trying to find out how it seems so familiar.
"Who am I? Gods help you child. You don't remember me?" The woman nearly drops the six-sleeved sweater.
"I remember nothing." You continue to stare at the fabric. Path... paintage... pathagin! Pathagins... those creatures that... er... what do they do again? You try hard to remember but soon give up.
"Not even me... I see... I am Rella. My son owns this inn. Nathiel? You remembered your name so maybe now you'll remember me? Remember?"
You shake your head and give the woman as much of apologetic look as you can muster.
What now?
"Who am I? Gods help you child. You don't remember me?" The woman nearly drops the six-sleeved sweater.
"I remember nothing." You continue to stare at the fabric. Path... paintage... pathagin! Pathagins... those creatures that... er... what do they do again? You try hard to remember but soon give up.
"Not even me... I see... I am Rella. My son owns this inn. Nathiel? You remembered your name so maybe now you'll remember me? Remember?"
You shake your head and give the woman as much of apologetic look as you can muster.
What now?