So, this will be the beginning of my recollections. Samuel has given me a blank book in which to write down my thoughts, I think he's still a little put off by me, but since he's the first person I've met to offer me help, I am eternally grateful to him, and someday hope to repay his kindness.
I will now recount everything I can recall up until now, as it's all been so overwhelming so far, I hope this will help me organise my thoughts somewhat. The first thing I can remember was lying face down in the sand of a beach. I was soaked through and my clothes had damage I can only attribute to some kind of fire. When I looked at my hands I felt as though I was missing something, I later found that that something was flesh and skin, which everyone I have met thus far seems to have on their hands, but I do not.
I arrived, after some journeying, at a small village where the people seemed to catch fish, I was glad to find another sentient soul, and tried to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately, I have learned that my appearance is quite frightening to some folks. I was not made welcome at this village, I was met with fearful glances and my words were most often ignored as people rushed to leave my company. I was referred to by many of these people as 'Ollpheist,' which Samuel has informed me, means to look like the dead. I take his word on this matter as I have not actually seen a corpse myself. I am ashamed to admit, but my ostracism from this small community led me to steal some choice items from the people there. Some clothes, which were hung from a line outside one home, and some coin, which had been left unattended near the clothes. I particular I took a pair of heavy gloves so that I might hide my abnormal hands. With that I decided to avoid further trouble and make myself scarce.
I headed away from the sea, and entered a patch of dense woods. There I stayed, travelling inland for about two days. While travelling I was waylaid by a pair of furred canine beasts, Samuel says these are predators endemic to the region called wolves, and it was against these wolves that I first used magic. Over much of what I observe, I am able to see a sort of haze, which Samuel says he cannot see. This haze seems to concentrate itself in living beings such as plants and animals. By focusing, I am able to direct and manipulate this haze, and in the case of the wolves, dispersing the concentration of this haze in their forms incapacitated them in some way. I have deduced from this and other interactions I have had, that this haze, whatever it is, is somehow connected to the motive force of life, and that disconnecting from it, tends to prevent movement and other functions. Scattering the haze completely might even induce a state of death, though I am hesitant to put this theory to test, as Samuel has told me that death constitutes a state of nonexistence, and cannot be reversed. Obviously this is not something I would like to inflict on another.
After I got away from the wolves and after traversing these woods, I emerged into a field filled with all sorts of beautiful flowers, very different from the flowers I'd seen in the woods. Across the field was a building, which I came to know as the home of Samuel. I approached the door, my hands still obscured, and attempted to rouse it's resident with a knock, when I heard a shout from behind me. Samuel was approaching the house with a large canister on his back. I offered to take it for him as I tried to explain why I was at his door. To my surprise, he was not afraid, accepting my help and making conversation with me as I worked on his flower field for some time. I explained to him I had few possessions, and little knowledge of where I was or who I was. When I was done he offered to allow me to use his spare room and to live and work on his small farm while I caught my bearings and explained he would offer me coin for my service. He found it funny when I asked why he would do that, so I assumed that that was a norm here, and I happily accepted.
Over the last three days I have learned that this land is called Elloryd, on the northern half of this world called Ghanwyss. Apparently it is made up of small islands, and is colder and windier than many other places in the world. The island on which I currently live is a small one, with just one commercial port on it's northern side. Samuel is a herbalist here and sells what he makes at this port's marketplace, which is only a few miles away. He has begun to teach me the names of some of the flowers he grows, such as the Hyacinth, Monkshood and Oleander. The latter of these is my personal favourite. Samuel is encouraging me to choose a real name, as apparently, Ollphiest 'does not suit me.' I haven't decided yet, but I may derive a name from one of the flowers Samuel grows.