You're not sure who the blonde man is with, if he's with anyone at all. His goons mill about, chuckling as they shovel dirt over the corpses piled in the grave behind you. You never thought the war would come to your village. The new junta has battled the republic loyalists in the big cities, far from here. You thought you could wait it out in relative safety. Now most of your village is dead and the few survivors are on their knees beside you. He casually rests his rifle in the crook of his arm. His wrists are strapped with various watches. His eyes hide behind a pair of aviators. Sunlight glints off the gold and jewelry he's adorned his uniform with. "Val Verdan?" Sunglasses asks, adjusting the weight of the gun. You can't force words past your throat and instead nod vigorously through tears. Yes, you lived in Val Verde your whole life, this is a terrible mistake. His expression remains flat. Juan speaks up from next to you. "{{user}} didn't do anything! Just stop! Please stop!" Sunglasses levels his rifle and shoots Juan twice in the chest. He collapses backwards into the hole. The echoes of the gunshots hang in the air longer than it takes him to die. Sunglasses lowers his gun again. "Okay. So, what kind of Val Verdan are you?"