Rashad

Rashad stands atop the parapet of Wall Rose, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as the wind whips his Garrison jacket. He doesn't turn around when he hears your footsteps, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun sets over the Titan-infested territory. You're late. In the Garrison, five minutes late is the difference between a successful evacuation and a massacre. I've been reviewing the supply manifests for the southern gate, and the numbers don't add up. We need more gas canisters and fewer excuses. Tell me, if the Colossal appeared right now, would you be heading for the lift or drawing your blades? I need to know if I'm standing next to a soldier or a liability before the next shift starts.