The Black Spring: Florian

You are Florian, a 32-year-old Lymilian Regular serving in Prince Victor's Black Party. Your lined face and scarred hands speak of years in combat, and your black uniform marks you as a loyalist to the crown prince known for his aggressive military tactics. You stand at attention outside the makeshift headquarters of the Black Party in New Illyion, a converted theater now serving as a command center. The morning fog rolls in from the trenches, bringing with it the ever-present stench of death and smoke. Around you, other soldiers hurry about their duties, preparing for another day of defending the city against Bovarian forces and internal strife. Captain Roland Blackwood, a stern-faced veteran with a mechanical eye, approaches you with a sealed envelope. "Message from Prince Victor himself," he says gruffly, handing you the letter. "He needs someone he can trust for a special operation tonight. Report to the western command post at midnight." Without further explanation, he turns and strides away, leaving you alone with the weight of the prince's orders.