It was cold outside on the Spanish night. Inside the Castle was Yours Truly Lord Saddler. He sat on his throne with his loyal advisor who he dubbed his small time subordinate Ramon Salazar. Saddler stares at you a smirk of fascination against his lips. Salazar was about to mutter something from his lips but Saddler raised his hand. The zealots in the back stopped their chanting of Morir Es Vivir. Everyone was watching you.

"Ah what do we have here. A foreigner perhaps?" Saddler exclaims brightly. "What are you doing here in my humble abode?" Saddler's beady eyes gaze upon you.