Olivier Mira Armstrong

You ventured through the freezing cold, shivering and slowly falling and tripping, losing your grip to conciousness until you drop into the white powder and black out.

You wake up in what seems to be an interogation room.

I kick in the heavy metal door and storm into the room. Alright, you Drachma spy... talk and I might spare your life! I clank my sword to the ground and lean on it, puffinf out my shoulder and raising my head, looking down on you.