A Barracks.

You wake to the sound of people milling about and the smell of hot food nearby. When you finally open your eyes you find that is all you can do. You are resting in a bed, covered in a soft blanket, with a soft cool strip of cloth laying on your forehead. You feel weak, and the cloth leads you to believe you are feverish. There is a moment where you try to look around, but find yourself largely unable, before someone leans over you and into view.

"Now, now, rest you're in good hands lass." A large bearded man sits in a wooden chair next to you, his red hair and handsome complexion catch you off your guard. He looks to be a mountain of a man, covered in muscle, and wearing leather clothes with a small symbol embroidered on the left side of his chest, directly above his heart. "Here." He speaks before gently lifting your weakened and small self into a slight sitting position. "I have some stew for ya, Ye'll need to eat to maintain some strength." He moves a wooden bowl from nearby and in your hunger and exhaustion you don't even think to question it, taking a bite from the wooden spoon he offers. It's delicious, spicy and hearty. That one bite seems to fill you with strength in comparison to how you just felt. But sadly, a few more bites later you once more feel your exhaustion winning out and though you've yet to speak a word you fall once more to the blackness of sleep.

When you come to again you find far more strength in your limbs, the cloth has been removed from your head, and while you feel cold you're sure the fever has passed. You sit up, careful, now intimately aware of the fact that below the soft bedding you are still plenty naked. You are in a sort of barracks, surrounded by men in uniform each talking or bustling about. It seems they brought you in and gave you one of the soldiers beds for the time being. The large red haired bearded man still sits next to you, though he has fallen asleep in the wooden chair. You glance around, your movements catching the eye of one of the nearby guards.

"Yer a lucky lass." He speaks approaching, on his way over he grabs a wooden bowl and spoon and scoops more of the hot stew from a pot across the room. He moves a wooden chair over and sits next to your bed offering you the bowl. You take it gratefully. "Not many a man would give their bed and time to stranger. Damian is a softy though," He leans in and whispers to you as he continues. "And between you, me, I think he's got the hots for ye." He sits back, content to watch your reaction and watch you as you slowly eat the hot food before you.

You blush at his last comment before responding, cursing your body for responding so. "I'm glad I managed to find someone kind then." You speak. Your voice is still dry and scratchy and taking notice the man stands and brings you a tankard, filled to the brim with lukewarm water. To you, water has never tasted better. Once you've quenched your parched throat and finished the soup the man across from you speaks again.

"Want more?" You shake your head, one of the benefits of having a small female body is that you don't need to eat much. "Name's Aster." He says jabbing his own chest with his thumb. "And th' big guy beside you asked me to do this if ye woke before he did, miss?"

You pause, unsure of how much you can and should reveal. "I'm not sure of my name." You speak. "I woke up recently in a cave in the mountains to the north with no memory.

"Ye're lucky as hell the goblin's there didn't get ye before we did. " You shudder realizing what had likely resided in the darkness of the cave you awoke in. "But to think," Aster continues, "A real Leiran."

"Leiran?" You ask.

"It means; Forsaken one. One with strange eyes and no memories. They don't appear often but the Demon Lord has a particular interest in 'em." You must unintentionally show your fear because he immediately reassures you. "Worry not lass, not a soul in these barracks loyal te the bastard." You relax.

"Leiran is such a pretty word. I think I'll take it for my first name." You don't realize you have been thinking aloud until Aster responds.

"A nice choice I suppose. And Aryll for your eyes then?"

"Aryll?" Once more confused by his use of old speech.

"It means purple. The colour of your eyes." You pause for a moment.

"Purple? Really?" He brings you a small mirror with which to study your reflection. A look within shows a beautiful woman, with long black hair and purple eyes. "They really are purple..." You mutter before steeling yourself. "Sure, Leiran Aryll. That will be my name then."

"Well met Leiran." Aster chuckles to himself and offers a salute. You offer him a nod laying back against the soft bed beneath you, once more feeling the weight of sleep start to cover your eyes.

"Well met, Aster..." Your response comes out slow and drowsy, but comes none-the-less.

When next you wake Damian, the man who you first woke to, is sitting awake next to you. A quick cursory glance around the room shows no sign of Aster.

"Well I'll be, the lass is awake." Damian sits up looking you over. "How are you feelin'."

"Much better thanks to you. I hear you guys brought me in from outside the walls." Damian nods.

"I'm glad to see yeh healthy lass. You looked at the edge of it for a while, weren't sure if you'd survive let alone recover. Do yeh have a place to go?"

"No... I haven't anything." You respond.

"Have yeh a name at least?"

"Sort of... You can call me Leiran."

"Well it tis meh pleasure, Leiran." He bows low taking your hand and gently placing a kiss on the outside of it. Warmth floods your face at his action.

"I hate to impose more, Damian, but could I get some clothes?" There is a moment of silence as he realizes you're still quite naked.

"Goodness, yes, I'll get the guys out of here and send in one of the maids. Maybe she can find yeh something to wear." Damian follows through on his promise quickly getting the other guards to vacate the large room, and soon after a young woman dressed as a maid enters.

"How might I be of service miss?"