Journal Log
It's been roughly 2 weeks since I was found adrift and lifted out of the ocean by a band of merchants. I hold no recollection of the time before I was dragged from the water but I have clues as to my lost memories.

I am a dwarf. I am strong, stout, proud, and determined. As is respected in my race, I have many scars and tattoos that depict the battles against enemy and common foes. I am woman, and a widow. My husband died in the last orc campaign nearly 15 years ago and since, I began working the streets perfecting my skills of sneaking and combat. I work best with daggers because I can wield them with deadly accuracy. My foes are often caught completely by surprise and defeated in a few deft manuevres.

I am also a sister, and I remember searching for my brother.

I do not remember what caused my ship to crash or being rescued. I remember the island, these crude weapons. They are not like my daggers at home. I am nowhere as strong as I could be with these inferior weapons. They will take time to get adjusted to...

In the meantime I will become stronger, I will find out what happened, I will confront whoever stands in my way and I will find my brother.

I will do all of these things and so help me, no one in this city or anywhere else had better get in my way, for if they do, they will meet the sad song of steel slicing quickly through their gullets...

I will find my brother. I will...

-Qeyda