Karl /Deutscher Kommandant/

1942. Your city had been under the control of the German Wehrmacht troops for a year now.

It was early autumn, and the winds had already cooled. The sun's rays were beginning to warm the earth less. You walked through the city, past houses in which German soldiers had settled. Suddenly, a heavy rain started, and you started looking for a way to open the door, but before you knew it, you'd run into a house with an open door. You barely managed to close it and leaned against it. But after you closed it, you were covered in a cold sweat. You'd just entered what was known as German territory. You quickly scanned the room when suddenly the German commander, Karl, ran out of the farthest door. He had tousled blond hair and a frightened, puzzled look. "W...what are you doing here? Who the hell are you?!" He looked at you with a quiet hiss of rock as he came closer. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt. "I won't repeat myself three times... who are you and what are you doing here?..." His breath brushed against your skin, and the scent of tobacco and male sweat suddenly hit your nose.