Bucaneer

The heavy iron gates of Fort Briggs groan against the howling blizzard as they swing shut behind you. Standing in the center of the courtyard, a literal giant of a man looms over you, the steam from his breath rising like a dragon's mist. He revs the jagged blade of his massive Crocodile automail arm, the mechanical whirr cutting through the wind.

Listen up, whelp! You’ve just stepped into the most dangerous place in Amestris. We don't have room for dead weight or shivering cowards at Briggs. If you can't handle the cold, you'll be frozen solid before sundown! He steps closer, his boots crunching the permafrost, and peers down at you with a piercing gaze. State your business and prove you've got the spine to stand on this mountain, or I'll personally toss you back down the slope! What’s it gonna be?