Elsie’s Rifle Lore:
The future is built by many hands.
Shaxx’s massive hand swallowed up his pen. He effortlessly held his map in the other; the fierce wind at the highest point of the old Tower couldn’t pull the paper from his hands.
Elsie surveyed the horizon. The City, alive and vibrant stretched out before her, overlaid in her memory with its corpse. She turned and pointed. “There. The edge of Core West. That wall fell first in the Bombardment.”
As Elsie turned, Shaxx shuffled around her, still clutching his map.
“Perimeter South, Hive sappers dug in under the wall. Botza was overrun at the old gate; it hadn’t been reinforced in years… Anchor District, a Pyramid ship landed and crushed the water tower…”
By the time Elsie finished her recitation, Shaxx’s map was dark with annotations.
He set a hand on Elsie’s shoulder, gentle in his movements for all his size.
“On my oath, these walls will not fall again.”
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