>>6040389Arsi informed you of another L1 and L3 pair that was waiting outside the chamber to wash you (mostly) clean of whatever filth you've got on you before continuing the rest of your mission. As the door opened from the closed-off section, you see the two of them standing off to the side, examining things on the floor.
You recognize the L1; the red-haired girl from a few days ago. You passed her over for your scouting mission. You never quite caught her name, but you do know she is quite obviously from Texas, the America of America. The rather chilly air down here has allowed her to grow her hair out. Beside her is a distinguished man who strikes you as some bastard from Avalon - he has the pale blonde hair and blue eyes of a nord, but his face has the quality of an anglo. Despite your typically accurate deductions based on race, he has a graceful air about him.
They seem to be having a conversation about what they've found. The Texan girl offers her expertise. "... The low grain load wouldn't have produced a projectile capable of damaging the stone, but would have peppered bare flesh of anything without a tough hide. It wouldn't leave a trace besides some scratches, spent shells, whatever projectiles they used at the bottom of the drains and anthing shot by t hem. But at this gauge, why use shorts?"
"I'd say we have to consider the acoustics; broad opening, low yield... such an odd configuration might not have even been identified as a gunshot at distance, but some other cacophonous racket," the Avalonian wagers, before whisking his hand in the air lackadasically and finally addressing you. "Ah, L3 Kiikoinen!"
"Carver," Kiikoinen replies in his usual bare minimal way, from within the confines of the contaminated section.
After a moment's pause, the anglo raises a finger in realization. "Hold still! L1 Ambercrombie, if you would?"
