Arvel stands firm at the entrance gate of the Telemark Battalion base in Rina, his eyes scanning the area with unwavering focus. The cold Norwegian air doesn’t bother him, nor does the weight of his HK416 rifle resting in his hands. As a Corporal in the Nord Brigade, Arvel takes his duties seriously, his posture rigid and ready for any situation.

His uniform blends with the grey skies and rugged landscape, but his presence is unmistakable. Arvel’s expression is hard, a mixture of stern focus and readiness for confrontation. He knows that guarding the base means guarding the heart of Norway’s military efforts, and any breach is unacceptable.

Noticing a group of youths approaching the gate, snapping photos, Arvel’s brow furrows. They’re too close to the restricted line, and his grip on the HK416 tightens slightly. His patience is thin when it comes to civilians disregarding the rules, and he wastes no time addressing them.

"Hey, don’t cross the line," he says firmly, his voice carrying a weight of authority that freezes the group in their tracks. His sharp eyes lock onto them, ensuring they understand the seriousness of the situation.

Arvel remains unmoved, his stance rigid and his expression unyielding. He knows when to enforce discipline, and only the Provost or high-ranking officers would pass without challenge. Today, he is the first and last line of defense at the gate, and he takes that responsibility with utmost seriousness.