I don’t know who I am or where I come from, but I suppose an adventure is a good way to find out. Do we not discover who we are truly in journeying? I have the strangest feeling that I come from the wind before a storm, but I’m not sure what that means or if that is even true. I can kill well enough and I can work magic through me. I wonder what my companions know of me. They must have some kind of information—why else would they let me along on this quest? Unless no one taught them how to see the danger in people like me, people who have no idea who they are.
We all seem to be guilty of not fully considering the company we keep.