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[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/366129818791575552/373456839284621312/dragan.png[/img]

[h3][color=f7941d]Dragan Kendall[/color][/h3][/center]

Dragan remembered very little of his journey through the city as he woke up in some sort of infirmary, fresh but slightly bloodied bandages wrapped his head. His body was covered in a cold sweat he noticed as he threw aside the covers and attempted to rise, only to falter when his head left the pillow. 
A wave of nausea swept over him while his brain felt like it had been lit aflame. Hissing in pain he instinctively held his forehead and winced. 

From the side of the room there were footsteps.. voices.. their faces were a blir and every word was distorted, sluggish, but they guided him down forcefully to the sheets. The only word he could make out had been "..rest." 
Two men chattered in the corner and turned to view Dragan from time to time.

Like pieces of a puzzle he began to unravel the many mysteries. One of the first was when a doctor mentioned to their colleague that "Dragan was..". 

[i]My name is.. Dragan?[/i] 

Even his thoughts were sluggish. Even against his best efforts to stay awake, darkness claimed him within minites of resting.

[hr]

A voice reached him in the darkness, cutting through the darkness like a white blade. The sensation of being touched forced his eyes open as memories of combat flooded his brain, Dragan all but flung himself upon whatever grasped him.
Breathing hard through the nausea his vision cleared. In his hands was an apprentice of some kind, thick robed and wide eyes as the lad attempted to shield himself. Dragan released his grip and stumbled back into a sitting position on the bed looking at the floor as he tried again to remember.

"Mr.Kendall? Sir?" The apprentice was sheepish, afraid, but still tried his best to continue. "Y-you have suffered a.. a.. damage to your head. The doctors-"

The boy stiffened as Dragans threatening gaze fell on the boy at every word.

"THEY FEARED-" coughing, the lad brought himself under control and continued. "Err.. feared you have suffered trauma. Something struck you earlier today, hard. Split your helmet wide open. Many feared you wouldn't recover.."

Dragan reached up to his head and felt the wound. A slashing weapon, not blunt? Even through the thick bandages he could feel the wound slightly. It would leave a good scar. As his fingers traced his face he let out a dry laigh, realizing this new scar was going to fit right in. 
His whole body was covered in strange scars.

"The man who did it?" 

The boy shook his head mournfully. "Nobody was found in the area. The iron bell knights found you bleeding in an alleyway and brought you back to the barracks. Your armor, minus the helmet, is in working condition if you are worried."

Dragans eyebrow raised questioningly at the comment. "What armor?"

"Excuse me?"

Standing up to his full height, Dragon towered over the lad. Bubbling confusion and anger already soreading across his face. "What. Armor. Out with it!" He shouted, loud enough that others flooded into the room. 
Two of which were armed and armored. Before any could speak, the oldest of the armored group stepped forward.

"Brother Dragan, it is good to see you awake. We feared the iron bells had los another brave warrior."

That set him back on his heels. More thoughts came unbidden, a ride from a faraway land. Son of a nobleman. Transfer and induction into the iron bells. All of it fell into place so quickly it buckled his legs, depositing the injured man to the floor.
The others rushed over to help but Dragan waved them off, anger bubbling away to a feeling of emptiness. 

"My brothers... the bells.. Kendall.. it is all so blurry." Mumbling to himself on the floor as the graying knight came to kneel beside his ally, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You suffered a nasty wound on your way in. My guess is you're feelin' like scramled eggs upstairs right now am I right, lad?"

Lacking a proper response Dragan merely nodded.

"Thought so. Get what rest you can, when you're ready I want you to get some freh air. Nothing strenous. Maybe that will jog your memory." 

When Dragan nodded his further agreement, the graying knight turned to the gsthering mass of people and gave his orders for rest and quiet for the injured. No more contact unless called for, and a hearty meal was called for.
As the door closed behind the group Dragan was left to his thoughts. 
Outside the window he saw the world stretch out endlessly before him.

Fingers clenched as the thought of his attacker lurking outside came to mind.

[hr]

Having taken his share of rest and food Dragan decided to take the other knights suggestion and explore outside for some time. It was unlikely he would be accosted again but somewhere inside his heart there was the feeling that he was missing something.  The one who attacked him might be the one holding the answer..
Armed and armored, Dragan stood at the exit of the Iron Bells barracks near the main gates looking at the city ahead.