Once upon a lifetime

a troll lay scorched and burnt in a forest both unfamiliar and vaguely familiar
He was all the main living remnants of several battles. His name changed every time he regenerated back from the brink of death. He had a predecessor, friend, mentor and other roles that did not survive as well... the second DeCorum of his creator's DeCorum lineage. A lineage had grown stronger from DeCor to DeCorum.
The troll lay there for an unknown amount of time, the pain of all the burns could only be numbed by thinking of all the actions and inherited memories that lead to his being there. The demons he summoned, the societies he dared to penetrate, the trickery that backfired, the sincerity that left him heartless, and the burning passion that left ash in the wake, all things that contributed to his incapacitating and wounded state. All those things and the memories past to him from the fallen Mileach_AC_DeCorum were what kept him company.
Even the troll's creator was only vaguely aware of the party that discovered him. Led by a Half-Elf dark cleric, the other characters also pondered how such a variety had gathered in such a seemingly normal place that was new and familiar all at the same time.
The group toiled together, not only to heal their newly found comrade, not only to survive, but to thrive, to create, build, and/or rebuild something their creator would be proud of.  Their creator might not have been aware of everything that was going on, but somewhere, somehow, A Creator was aware.