Aram

The first thing he noticed was the smell. The air in the room stank of blood and death, but it wasn't a sweet scent like that of freshly spilled entrails or a butcher's shop. It smelled more like the sour tang of old vomit mixed with urine, which made him think of his mother's chamber pot after she'd been sick for days on end. He wrinkled his nose at the thought and tried to ignore the odor as best he could, though it didn't do much good. His stomach still growled loudly enough to make him wince.

"You're awake," said a voice from behind him. "That's a start."

He turned around slowly, trying not to look too eager. A man sat against one wall, watching him intently. He had dark hair and eyes, and a scar ran across his face just below his left eye. He wore black leather armor and carried a longsword strapped to his back.

His name came to mind almost immediately: Captain Rolfe.

Rolfe stood up and walked over to the bedside. He pulled back the sheets and looked down at Aram's body. Then he r