You were a new einharjar on floor 19. You wandered the halls around breakfast time, trying to make your way to the lounge through this labyrinth of a hotel. You then bumped into a boy. He looked around 16ish, long curly brown hair, dark skin, and was wearing a Union Army uniform.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright? Uh.. I’m T.J. Jr, son of Tyr. I haven’t seen you around, are you new?”

He asked as he held out his hand for you to shake.