[1] Tale of Neshka: The Lost One

This is the backstory of my tabletop RPG character. In it, Neshka recounts her tragic past in the world of Pathfinder. Part 1: The Lost One [Intro: Soft medieval folk] [Sparse lute, distant harp, slow frame drum pulse] [Spoken-word: Intimate, low, slightly raspy female voice. Calm, dry, faintly amused] They asked me to tell my story. My story... [soft breath] As if stories were so simple. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl...” [brief pause] No. Those are the stories that end well. Mine did not. Not back then. [Verse 1: Warm, gentle acoustic folk] [Soft melodic female singing, intimate and close] My name is Neshka now, Yet once I bore another name: Nijalaeda... The Lost... Before the warmth and comfort came. I was found beneath the Ashen Forest sky, A little elven child with no memory of why. A trader named Ilorien found me there that day— She could have walked on down the road, Instead... she chose to stay. She gave me a home, and she gave me a name, Not bound by blood, but by love all the same. [Chorus: Warm but melancholic] [Lute and harp, gentle 4-beat ballad rhythm] I was the lost one, the child without a past, Yet she gave me a future and taught me how to last. I had a home, I had a name, A place beneath the sun... And for a little while, I thought My story had begun. [Verse 2: Slightly brighter, gentle frame drum] I had my friends, I had my hearth, A life that felt like mine. I learned the merchant's quiet trade, And followed every sign. I watched Ilorien read the roads, I wanted to be strong: A merchant and a traveler, To know where I belonged. I dreamed of distant valleys, Of silks and spice and sun. I thought the quiet years ahead Would simply carry on. [Gentle instrumental pause] I had a future... And never thought that I could lose it. [Chorus: Warmer, more resonant] I was the lost one, Yet no longer felt so lost. I had a home, I had a family, I knew what it had cost. I had a future, I had a name, A life beneath the sun... And for a little while, I thought The dark had passed me by. [Verse 3: Music darkens] [Lute slows, low cello drone, sparse drum taps] Then came the dreams. At first they were nothing: A shadow... a feeling... a face I couldn't see. I woke without remembering, Yet somehow still I knew: Something had been watching me. Something had been reaching. Something had been waiting. [Music drops to a bare, tense pulse] I could not see it, I could not touch it, Yet felt it in my mind. A hand behind my waking thoughts, A whisper left behind. Every year, it came a little closer. Every night, it stayed a little longer. And I told myself... [Spoken, fragile whisper] “They're only dreams.” [Verse 4: Restrained, ominous, cold cello hum] Then I turned twenty-seven. And on a dark and rainy night... [Sudden stop] I woke. [A single low plucked note] No vision. No warning. No voice. Just silence in the cold... And somehow... I knew. [Final Chorus: Dark, transformed, gripping] I was the lost one... Now I understood the name. The life I thought was truly mine Would never be the same. The home... The future... The girl I used to be... Something had reached inside of me— And would not let me leave. [Outro: Very quiet lute, distant rain] [Spoken-word: Low, exhausted, intimate] My name is Neshka. But once... I was Nijalaeda. The Lost. [soft breath] And that was the night I finally understood why. [Single unresolved note] Nothing was ever the same... after that night.