Hello, my name is Finnegan Ryan, but most people call me Finn. I grew up on a farm in Kansas, where hard work and an honest living was a way of life. I joined the Marines when I was 18 so I could see the world and inherit some structure, at least that’s the way my father put it. After putting in a few years I decided to re-enlist, after all, things were going well and I had achieved the rank of Sergeant. I signed up for the first thing that sounded like a change a pace from the usual duty station, so I signed up for embassy duty. When the gunny came back to me with my duty assignment, he had a smirk on his face. With his deep grumbly voice he said “You’re going to love this one, it’s cold and the country is recovering from a civil war. It’s a full on charlie foxtrot in the middle of nowhere.” With a smirk I replied with the obligatory “Ooh-rah”, as Marines thrive on misery and adventure. I arrived in Pavlovo, Chenarus within only a few days after taking some leave, we came in by helicopter. It sure was a disorganized mess when I got there. I came in with a few “joes” who were coming in to do something with NATO, but that’s not why I was there. I located the S1 office, or at least the equivalent, and reported in. I was met by an officer who had an un-pressed uniform and had not shaved in a few days. His first words were “Welcome to the suck. Specialist Moore here will show you to your room. Gather your things.” Not the best first day, but anything can be expected with a new unit. I spent a lot of time in the wilderness performing reconnaissance until one day the radio went silent. I watch from afar as the riots seemed to get worse, my only safety at this point was to stay in the wilderness. I can only assume the post was overrun, and my only job now is to find my way back home.