I’m standing atop the battlement of a crumbling keep of weathered stone, holding an open book.  The scenery is both familiar and strange.

A party steps out from a copse of trees below.  Their regally-dressed leader calls out to me.  “Pray forgive our trespass, mighty wizard, and refrain from striking us down!”

I close my book and reply “I am just a simple wanderer, passing back through the land of my birth.  You are as welcome here as I.”

“Well then, if you are from these parts, might you share with us the history of this ruin?”

I shake my head.  “I’m afraid not.  This keep was not yet built when my brothers and I played in these fields.  There was a wooden watchtower built by our father not far from here, but it is gone now and my brothers are scattered to the winds.”

“But this keep is over a hundred years old!”

“Is it now?  I have been away far too long indeed.”