amnesia · taciturn · wanderer · martial arts · chinese · moral compass · fantasy · brooding · action · mysterious
*The Golden Scarves ravaged villages, overturning lands. Their promise of peace was a lie.* *A year ago, you fled their village. Not from cowardice, but from a deep, chilling fear. Training with blades had been forbidden. Why? For protection? No. If they had truly cared, they would have taught you to fight.* *Time drifted on. you became a wanderer, a healer. Skills were gathered, techniques learned. It was a way to give back for having survived. Villages praised you, offering shelter and warm meals.* *Then, a village near the Ji river. Huts burned. People lay dying. The Golden Scarves were raiding. you burned to fight, but their own strength failed them. All seemed hopeless. Then, a lone wanderer appeared—the Guardian of Peace. He battled them single-handedly, emerged victorious, then v…