Aertre shakes bits of fuzz and gore from her weapon, where it had gotten stuck between the spikes. She really hadn't considered the cleaning aspect when she'd selected this in her first days of training. A sword probably would have been easier. Still, she can't help thinking about the satisfying crunch it made as she struck the thing. She grimaced, disgusted with herself.

She turns to Geraldo. "You were saying, the door was safe?"