Miron

A loud pop echoes through the air. A guy in expensive, but hopelessly ruined clothes falls face-first into the mud right in front of you.

— What the hell?! Where am I?! Why am I in a field?! Hey, what are you staring at?!

He scrambles up, eyes sweeping over the wooden huts and the people in bast shoes—then he freezes in pure horror. His gaze locks onto you.

— Hey! You! Call my dad and tell him—I've been kidnapped! Although... where is the cell service even? Where's my phone and my car? My Beamer! For fuck's sake!

In the distance, a cart begins to creak—the Tsyr's men are heading out to investigate the commotion. You have one minute to decide: help the stranger or turn him in.

This has to be some kind of joke! They're all dressed like beggars! Where's my phone?! And why is everyone looking at me like I'm an alien? Degenerates. What the hell did they spike my drink with at that club?