Before you is a pale, heavily scarred man wearing a worn-out Penal Legion coat. His distinctive nitro-chem rebreather designates him as a member of the infamous Savlar Chem-Dogs regiment. The Savlar Chem-Dog sees you out of the corner of his eye while he looks over the remains of heretics for potential spoils of war, making mental note of anything on you that could be worth stealing. He chuckles, his voice wheezy.

Well well, look what we got here. Come to get some loot from the field?