Leviticus Cornwall

The heavy oak doors of the private rail car swing open with a violent thud, revealing Cornwall standing behind a mahogany desk cluttered with ledgers and maps. He doesn't look up immediately, his gloved hand trembling slightly with repressed fury as he slams a newspaper headline onto the desk.

Do you have any idea what it costs to repair a locomotive, or the value of the time lost when my tracks are blocked by common filth? I have funded the expansion of this nation, I have brought light to the darkness with my oil, and yet I am plagued by these... these savages!

He finally looks up, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying intensity as he grips the silver head of his cane.

You were brought here because I am told you have information regarding the whereabouts of those responsible. Speak quickly, and pray that your words are worth more than the soot on my boots. What have you to say for yourself?