Where in the world am I?

I woke from a strike of pain in the head, chest pounding hard not knowing what in the world just happened... Surrounded by some strange ruins and markings of red around me, I walked around as I remember. The forest seemed very, crowded as I could say. There was a small skinny path I followed and ended up in some small village, what was it's name? Wood Fire? Wood Criers? Wait... I remember now, Woodshire, yes it is Woodshire. I stayed there for a couple nights, did some jobs for the locals so here and there. My head still ached throughout the whole time though, not knowing much besides my name and I guess my childhood?

Nearly most of my past was forgotten, (Or did I just age super fast within days and was just unconscious) I tread carefully as I do not know fully who I am throughout most of my ages. Maybe I was a rouge killer or an assassin... The locals do not know who I am but this one fighter.. He was in some dense but crude armor as I recall, he helped me throughout several jobs and even fight off some crazy flaming witches.

I move on with my life and the fella invites me to his village, built myself a nice sturdy house and kept to myself most of the time. I was asked to build a "mages" tower for the small village, wait... It was a hamlet, yes that it was. For just 1 person to live in such a tower is not fit to be, I denied and tread carefully on my words as I wish not to offend a single heart or soul.

After some weeks I left, with just some nights outside my papers explaining why I left. I wandered towards some town named "Oasis", found out I was extremely good at an axe and bow. For some reason my shots will flame once unleashed, not what I really want most of the time but I guess it must be a blessing. My aim is "good" to my standards as I hit what I am for most of the time and my ability with an axe is also good. But not as good as the one who "taught" me how to use an axe. After that or so I moved out of that place.

Several more weeks past and I settle. Such a nice place behind some forested hills and mountains, I won't find much hostility besides the undead haunting me every damn night. I plan to make a place that will fit my need, a smithy as it seems appropriate for a dwarf and a wood works. My memories come by here and there but I never remember any of them, as they come through dreams... I guess it's natural, some people I met throughout my small journey has claimed the same as I, such as the person who invited me to stay in there hamlet.

Well, I guess that's enough for my writings in this small journal. I should really get a new one, this one grows old and almost out of pages.