I awoke to a burning smell. I knew the smell was from something burning, though what the fuel was I couldn’t place. Upon sitting up, I realized that I would need more physical exertion before gaining any form of answer to my questions, as I appeared to be at the bottom of a hole. It was an odd shaped hole, reaching out from the center as if a multi-limbed star. The hole was not particularly deep, though, and upon standing the ground was at my waist height, meaning I got a perfect view of the destruction beyond.

The world in my immediate vicinity appeared to have been smote by some angry god. The very dirt was charred black, let alone the benches and other furniture nearby. And the bodies - HURK!

After dry heaving a bit, I managed to contain my gag reflex enough to look once again at my surroundings. Indeed, multiple charred bodies lay sprawled all around, many on the ground, though some few entangled with the charred rubble that must have been either benches or pews.

With that thought, it clicked inside my head. I pushed myself up out of the whole, looking around me, and became certain of it - this place was, or had been, some sort of religious site. There were the pews in rows, the melted remains of what should have been some sort of candle holders, and, behind where I had awoken, a cracked altar. Two bodies lie next to the altar as well, one clutching a somehow undamaged dagger.

Yes, the dagger, upon inspection, appeared to be the only thing other than myself that was untouched by whatever had occurred here. For I was truly untouched, my simple woven garments sooty and dirty, but unsinged.

My curiosity peaked by a fellow survivor, inanimate though it might be, I moved closer to the altar and attempted to retrieve the dagger. Three crumbled fingers and one dry-heaving session later, I had the dagger in my grasp. It was ornate, the sort of thing designed more for its aesthetic than its practicality, but there was a sort of weight to it. Something about the dagger picked at my mind, attaching an importance to it beyond what I could readily explain. I just knew that this dagger was more than it seemed.

Unable to get any answers past that, I decided to carry the dagger with me. I still didn’t know where I was, or how I got here-

It was then that it struck me. I couldn’t remember. Not just the circumstances around how I got into that hole, I couldn’t even recall my name! My age, my family, my circumstances, none of it! Panic overtook me then, and it took a good ten minutes for me to pull myself back together.

I took stock of my situation. I had amnesia, and appeared to be the only survivor of some catastrophic explosion of some sort. Checking my pockets, I was dismayed to find a lack of any coinage, meaning the only things I had to my name were the clothes on my back and this ornate dagger I’d picked up. Thus, I drew up a plan of action.

Step one - scavenge. I spent the next thirty minutes or so digging through the remains in the area, attempting to find anything of value. Truth be told, I probably could have done it in half the time, but the dry-heaving is my excuse. If I had had anything in my stomach at the start of this, there was little doubt it would have been all over the place by now.

Anyways, I had some luck. There were a few coins that had managed to survive the doom that befell this place, and one of the bodies had actually been thrown free of the charred area by a shockwave. Though still dead, the man’s chainmail armor and shield would serve him no better in death than they had in life, so I stripped him of those and threw them on. The armor itself was loose, making it harder to move in, so I quickly removed that. There was a chance I would see combat, but I was more confident in survival if I could move about freely than if I was forced to be taking hits due to a poor-fitting armor.

Interestingly, his weapon was not in its sheath, though that likely meant it had just gotten thrown from his hand and over the ledge during the blast.

Oh, that’s right, there’s a ledge. In fact, this crazy religious site appeared to be located on a cliff above the ocean.

Alright, moving on to step two then - find food. None of the perishables had survived, or there hadn’t been any food in the area to begin with. Regardless, that meant that these people didn’t live up here. Luckily, there appeared to be a path leading down the cliff away from the sea. I started moving down that, before realizing that, with the incredibly overcast skies, I would need some light to avoid a tumble when moving down the path. So I backtracked and, using the dagger, managed to pry loose a board from one of the pews, then lit it using the fire on that same pew, crafting myself a makeshift torch. It wasn’t perfect, and I would have to watch and be careful to find a replacement before it burnt itself out. On that thought, I took the time to extract two more boards and looped them onto my belt. Then I made my way down the path.

It was a steep path, but manageable in my simple, leather boots. I was grateful to have woken up without needing a new set of clothes, as the rest of the clothes back there hadn’t been in serviceable condition, and I didn’t relish the idea of navigating down a cliffside path barefoot.

I managed to make my way to the bottom of the cliff path without incident, and found the path led deeper inland, away from the sea. Not seeing a better choice, I continued to follow the path. After thirty minutes of travel, I still hadn’t seen signs of habitation, but the path also had yet to cease. Taking confidence in that fact, I pressed onwards, though by now my stomach had recovered enough to start making its dissatisfaction at being empty heard. I was also starting to notice my growing thirst.

It was only five minutes later, though, that I realized there were lights up ahead. Cresting a small rise, I saw a town at the end of the path, abustle with noise and glowing with torchlight. Smiling at the sound of humanity, I realized that I’d gotten steps two and three switched around.

So! Time for the new step two - find civilization!