A haggard man enters the recruitment building, clad in dark burgundy fatigues. His patrician features and piercing blue eyes survey the scene before him.
A desk, his future, his vengence, his fate.
"Good afternoon, Officer", his voice flat, almost emotionless save a bearly checked tide of methodical fury, battering the bulwark of his waning demeanour.
"I wish to offer my services, to the Armed Forces of Bretonia"
