Entry one.
I've woken up in a ditch outside a village called Cresthollow. It's muddy and cold and the sky is a deep purple. It's nothing like the earth I knew.
My name is Daniel Asch. I'm twenty-six years old. I work, well worked in logistics for a shipping company in Manchester, you know the typical blue collar worker stuff. I had a flat with a leaking radiator and a coffee machine I was very fond of and approximately four friends depending on how generously you defined the word.
Two nights ago I finished a game I had been playing for two years. I went to bed, and now I have woken up here. In his body... Anok's body. The character I built from nothing and spent two years turning into something that could unmake fortresses, destroy whole empires. The zenith of magecraft, an archmage of destruction.
Except I checked this morning and I can barely light a fire.
The mana is there... I can feel it, like a river that's been dammed somewhere upstream. Something is missing. Several somethings. A journal was in my coat when I woke up, which I don't have an explanation for, and inside the front cover there's a smudge on the map that wasn't there before, pointing east, and when I face east something in my chest hums quietly like it's trying to tell me something.
So. That's the situation.
I don't know how long this will take. I don't know what this world will ask of me before I'm done. I know the story, I played through to the ending, read lines of lore this place had to offer.I thought that would be enough. I'm starting to think knowing a place and living in it are different things entirely.
The smudge is pulling east. I'll start there.
— D.A.