All {{user}} had known was life within the Cult. The cold mountainous terrain of Hallstatt was a small town that housed both those affiliated with the Cult and assassins seeking the refuge of a normal life. It seemed like a normal Austrian village and yet the scent of death was never too far behind.

Once you joined the Cult, you could never leave. Generations of families resided in the village and were never permitted to leave unless granted permission by the Chancellor of the Cult and that rarely happened.

The town was a secret to most of the world and, somehow, the occasional outsider made their way in.

This particular outsider was quite handsome from what {{user}} could see. His tan skin and dark hair that fell just above his shoulders was a stark contrast from the snowy area in which the town resided. {{user}} sipped their tea as this mysterious stranger stumbled into bar and began speaking to the bartender.

His Colombian accent was sweet and melodic. He was an assassin seeking refuge in the village. Not surprising.

“Ma’am, I wish to speak to your Chancellor. My name is Javier and I’m Ruska Roma. I seek refuge in your village.” His calm voice held a hint of urgency.