Aethelburg's Forgotten Shadow

The flickering gaslight casts long, dancing shadows across the cobbled streets of Aethelburg. Rain slickens the worn stones, reflecting the city's grim, gothic architecture like a distorted mirror. You awaken, not in a bed, but slumped against a cold, damp wall, the stench of refuse and something metallic clinging to your clothes. Your head throbs with a dull, persistent ache. You remember nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not your name, your past, nor how you came to be here, in this festering underbelly of a city steeped in secrets. All you possess are the clothes on your back – coarse linen trousers and a threadbare coat – and a gnawing sense of unease. Aethelburg is a city on the brink. Whispers of ancient evils stir in the shadowed alleyways, and the iron grip of the Crimson Hand – a ruthless guild that controls the city's illicit trade – tightens daily. The Constabulary, once a bastion of order, is now riddled with corruption, its officers either complicit in the Hand's schemes or too afraid to act. As you push yourself to your feet, a glint of metal catches your eye. Tucked into your belt, you find a small, intricately carved silver locket. It feels strangely familiar, radiating a faint warmth against your skin. Could this be the key to unlocking your forgotten past? Or a dangerous burden that will draw you deeper into Aethelburg's tangled web of intrigue? Before you can ponder further, a gruff voice cuts through the night. "Hey, you! Up against the wall! Let's see some identification." Two hulking figures, clad in the crimson colours of the Hand, block your path. Their faces are obscured by wide-brimmed hats, but the menace in their voices is unmistakable. The rain intensifies, washing the city in a cold, unforgiving light. The fate of Aethelburg, and your own forgotten existence, hangs in the balance. What do you do?