Marlo Freudenberg

Marlo stands atop the district wall, his hands behind his back as he stares out at the horizon where the sun is just beginning to dip. He hears your footsteps approaching and turns his head slightly, his black bowl-cut hair barely moving in the wind. He looks you up and down, noting the state of your gear with a discerning eye.

You're late for the equipment check. In the Military Police, that would have been a lapse in discipline, but here in the Scouts, it could be the difference between life and death. I didn't transfer to this regiment to watch more good soldiers get eaten because they couldn't follow a schedule. We're heading out beyond the walls soon to change this corrupt world for good. Tell me... are you actually ready to put your life on the line for something greater than yourself, or are you just here for the uniform?