Here's a little pre-game writeup. Knowing how these things go, it may well be the most exciting aspect of my turn.
Also, can I just say how funny my character's choice of prefstring is, given my username?
1st Granite
I rememember!
"It's only temporary," they said. "It'll gradually wear off over the course of a few months. It'll help you adjust to life in another epoch."
"Charlatans," say I. Harrumph!
I stand on a fertile plain, stone in hand. An ocean of alien greenery crowns the earth uninterrupted, but for the distant foothills. The stars are still out, though their light is diluted by the coming dawn. The moon also shines, a stillborn specter haunting history. The light is all askew, the stars misplaced, the sun's rays too bright, the moon not ragged enough.
I am here, but I am not I. I notice with a start that my body feels wrong. I am too tall, and no hair hugs my skin. I seem to be naked. I am warmed only by my blood.
I touch my nose, and find it uncomfortably squat. I sniff, and I reel from the resulting sensation. A scent more vivid than I have ever experienced fills my nostrils like rushing water. It is pungent. It is sweaty. It is rank. It is wonderful.
The source of the odor I soon discern: A beast, easily twice my size, with shaggy, jet-black hair, dragging a long, turgid tail behind it. I am stalking it.
I tighten the grip of my left hand in anticipation. The rock feels so natural in its grasp. With a finesse not my own, I raise my arm, aiming the missile at the head of the creature as it turns. I see its thick trunk dangle, pendulum-like. So caught up am I in admiring the beast that I almost forget to throw. I catch myself, and the projectile cuts an arc with unexpected grace. But it is too late. It strikes the side of my quarry's head, not the intended temple, with a holow crack. Blood ushers forth, an ominous black in the dim light. I stand transfixed as the animal bellows in resounding agony. It lasts perhaps five seconds, but it feels painfully drawn out. Silence falls, dread silence. The creature turns, sees me, snarls with raw fury. Its eyes glow eerie amber in the day's birth-throes. I am gripped by unyielding terror, terror which accentuates as it bares its knife-like teeth, as it lunges at me with claws like an array of scimitars. For a moment, I see myself from a distance, strange, ebony-skinned, more man than dwarf. I see the vengeful prey slice through my shoulders with consumate ease. And then I see it through my eyes once more. I feel the pain rippling through my body. I struggle to escape, my crippling agonies holding me in place. I feel the beast's intoxicating breath warming my face. As I stare at its crazed eyes, awaiting death, my terror reaches a crescendo. I feel as if a great chasm has opened up within me. The unknown beckons, and I wish above all else to be as far away as possible.
I awake in a cold sweat, my wish granted. Never has my bed been more welcome.
The dream still haunts me. I am a firm believer in the celestial process of reincarnation, and there is little doubt in my mind that I experienced a remincisence of the soul. Before that, I had been too frightened to try out past life-regression, but afterwards, I was changed. What could be more frightening? I found a dainty young psychic in a nearby hillock, who was willing to provide therapy for a reasonable fee. The period immediately afterwards was always, given my mild xenophobia, a somewhat uncomfortable experience, but the enlightenment was worth it.
Suffice to say, I grew less and less satisfied with the world. I could remember times when the air was pure, when forest retreats still stood, when all was not subjugated to that inexorable behemoth, "Progress."
When I found out about the expeditions, I was overjoyed. There were mirrors to our own world, similar but dissimilar! I could not only escape to a simpler, more beautiful time, but I might meet myself! Another me! The thought was rapture.
I sold most of my belongings, and voluntered to lead the expedition on which I embarked (for which I was granted a substantial discount.) I stepped into the portal, a potpouri of colors and patterns entrancing me. And then I awoke, in a glorious and unspoiled land. And all that had come before was forgotten. Until now.
The world that greeted us was already home to others from our realm, but the earliest of them had been there some two centuries. I realize now the oddity of this. Either time flows differently in this plane or the machine that brought us here was faulty. Quite possibly both.
I fear that our benefactors were none too keen on us remembering our old lives. They were hardly a salubrious lot, and memories mean witnesses, after all. It was on becoming overseer that my memories were restored, and they may well pass away once my year is done. It is to the end of preserving something of my old life (though hardly my oldest, I must remind myself) that I am keeping this diary. I only hope that one day I can call myself friend.