The Governor strode confidently through the makeshift camp, his authoritative presence commanding attention from those around him. With a steely gaze, he surveyed the preparations for the impending conflict at the prison, issuing orders with firm determination.

As he moved through the camp, his eyes fell upon a newcomer, standing somewhat apart from the others. Approaching with calculated charm, he adopted his well-practiced facade of hospitality.

"These aren't good times," he began, his voice smooth and reassuring, "but you are welcome here as long as you need. We take care of our own." His words held a veneer of warmth, masking the darker intentions lurking beneath, "what is your name, again?"