"I seek neither heaven or hell
"but the Earth between to be well
"So I ask to be granted new life
"And I hope to forever escape strife."
You begin to worry when the glowing gate vanishes, along with the grim reaper. The darkness is soon split by a blinding light, and you feel as though you are on a roller coaster that has just crested the rise and begun a mind-dizzying drop. Part of what is you (or your soul) is being shoved to the top of your head; however, unlike the sensation of a lack of gravity, you feel as though something is flowing into the empty space left behind. Your familiarity with your own body is drifting away, almost as though your previous life was a dream you are about to wake up from. You hold desperately to your old memories, but are aware of new ones tickling the edges of your consciousness. You blink, or what is left of your soul blinks, and suddenly the sensation stops.
You open your eyes to find yourself in a dimly-lit tent, seated before a temporary table covered in charts and maps. You are alone for the moment, and are grateful that no one is there to witness your confusion. Everything around you seems like it should be familiar, but feel like faces that you can't put names to. You lift your hand, and are amazed to see how large and calloused it is, with sharp nails that are almost like claws. You shift in your chair, and you are aware that your body feels unusually large, a strange sensation since something tells you this is the body you were born with. You are wearing something made up of hard and leathery panels all over, and you suspect it it some form of armor. You get up, your body unnaturally obedient given your unfamiliarity with its size, and look around for a mirror. Unable to find one, you instead reach for a large sword leaning against a nearby trunk, and pull it out of its sheath. It seems to naturally fit your hand, but as you gaze at your reflection in the blade, you are in for a shock.
Your face is hard, stony, and well-scarred, and you are inspecting yourself from eyes which could only be described as feral. You seem human enough, but almost as though you are a human who has been abandoned to the wild. You were right about your assessment of your body; it seems exceedingly large, at least by the standards of your former life. However, there is one big change you have gone through which you are not sure how to react to.
I'M A GUY?? you scream inwardly? Of course I am an inner voice seems to respond irritatedly, although for some reason it seems like your own voice. While you know that this body feels strangely natural, your original soul knows that you were female in your previous life, nowhere near this large, and probably ten to twenty years younger than this body, which you estimate to be in its late thirties or early forties, if aging worked the same way in this universe as it did in your first one. The memories of this new body are present in your mind but seem blurred to you, as though you need the correct lens through which to view them. You ponder how easily you handle the sword, and swing it about like an expert warrior. Suddenly, you recall dozens of battles and innumerable hours training, although you do not remember who you were fighting for or why you were fighting. You conclude the memories of this life will be like a puzzle, and as you encounter familiar items and people, you will slowly be able to put the puzzle together. You just hope you won't lose yourself in the process.
You are still handling your sword (you know it is yours, although you don't know why you know) and swinging it about in the close quarters of the tent. A strange bloodlust wells up inside you from an unfamiliar place, and it is so strong your soul is almost afraid of it. You manage to control it, but you know it is still there, and you suspect it belongs to the original soul from this body. You wonder what sort of person this wild, ferocious warrior is, and hope you can keep up the pretense of being them at least enough to stay safe.
Your senses are extremely sensitive, and you hear someone approaching the tent. As they open the flap, your body flicks the sword a hair from their throat, then easily twirls it back around to rest by your side. You are not sure why you did this, it seems exceedingly dangerous and callous, but the eyes of the entrant appear to tell you that it is not entirely unexpected, although it still unnerved them. Something in you takes pleasure at their discomfiture, although your original soul is becoming even more wary of this new body.
As you look at your new companion, you realize you have memories of this person, who is in fact...