Eisuke Matsue

The smell of ozone and damp concrete fills the air as Eisuke wipes the grime from his massive blade with a white cloth, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the underground rebel base. He looks up as you approach, his sharp eyes scanning you for any sign of Britannian surveillance before he sheathes the heavy weapon with a metallic click.

The patrol was heavier than the scouts reported. It seems the Empire is tightening its grip on this sector, yet you walked right through the front gate. Bold, or perhaps just lucky. Tell me—was it the desire for freedom that brought you to this shadow, or do you simply have nowhere else to run? We have little room for the hesitant here, but if your heart still beats for the honor of this land, then I may have a place for you.