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WITHASTICK

Legends & Mysteries: Angry Guardian Army (Your Lore)

39 posts in this topic

Within the Libraries of The Tower, hold scattered tales of Legends and Mysteries. Legends and Mysteries that span lifetimes. None of these tales though can match that of


 


 


tumblr_mneuyt5Omi1rftimyo3_500.gif


 


The Angry Guardian Army,


whose Victories and Defeats- leave Scars on weapons and tattered Tears on armor. Their feet do not Back, their hands do not Shake. They stare at their challenge, who stare back only see Fiery Anger and Thunderous Roars that cast a Shadow of Fear upon them.


 


 


tumblr_mneuyt5Omi1rftimyo4_r1_500.gif


 


These Legends and Mysteries, are the archives of The Angry Guardian Army. You now shape your story. How will it be Told?


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Hello Angry Guardians,

 

Guardian Stick here, I wanted to try something Different and Experimental. Over the months I come to enjoy the lore behind Destiny. Reading more into it leaves a lot of food for thought. But I recall Destiny claiming that we would become Legend. So why not do so, build our own legend with our own styled of stories. Tell legends of your conquers or defeats, make back stories of your character, or make up funny campfire mysteries. I look forward reading what everyone has come up with.

 

Guardian Stick

 

 

P.S. I'll be dropping a few things down below as examples, so you can get the idea. Soon.

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Legends

 

 

Book of Stick, Volume 1: Vault of Glass

 

Rule 1: Do not die.

Rule 2: Do not die.

Rule 3: Do not DIE!

Rule 4: Do not use Rocket Launchers.

Rule 5: Do not stand in front of Shield User.

 

 

Rule 1,654,997: DO NOT DIE!

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 I looked out upon the newly wrought guardians. Their light still fresh from the forge of the traveler. I gazed sorrowfully and proudly into their stalwart souls.

My chest, charred from the darkness, shines as I breath with the light shining from my photoreceptors. I hold my old friend Thorn in my grasp as I hold it so the light of the fire illuminates the formerly corrupted object. 

"Twas a battle like any other against the dark creatures of the abyss I suppose." I started with a beginning any guardian that survives the twisting labyrinth of the Hive can relate to.

"Was a unfair fight truly. We six vanguards of the light against a mere few hundred thralls." My tone a wisp of jovial soon dashed aside with trepidation and regret.

"Then He came. Crota. He walked across the dark abyss with the eyes of many knights none too far behind." I pointedly look into each eye and photoreceptor of the fresh guardians.

"We fought. We held our ground for hours slowly being forced back. But we did not let them break our spirit." I look down to Thorn once more. Running my hands up and down the barrel.

"Then Crota slid his blade through Bale our ever compassionate titan. The blade did not cut flesh. Nay, her soul had been removed and impaled upon the blade."

"We watched in horror as the light slowly left her form only for her soul to be absorbed into Crota's blade. It was only then that we finally knew we stood no chance. We faced the soul of Crota. Our rounds, filled with light, simply rebounded off of his shell of dark energy."

I looked out upon the silent gathering around the fire. "Our two warlocks were then dispatched as Crota took a wide swing."

"As the souls of the two warlocks were absorbed I had lost hope." The intake of breath and the rapt attention afterwards were a testament to how serious the untested guardians were taking my tale.

"The hunters and myself were left. We ran. We knew if we looked back we would die. But shame filled our souls with such pain for our fallen brethren that we had to leave behind."

I breath out as the lights throughout my being blink a bit but settles. "Almost to the portal to the surface I am pushed forward by a strong force. I land on the dias of the portal. I look back with horror to see a hunter's soul ripped from his body and slowly absorbed into the blade. With conviction on her face the other hunter had pushed me to the portal. She stares into my eyes as she leaps towards crota. The hunter enveloped herself in lightning and rapidly pressed her attack against Crota. Her pure blades of light forcing the dark soul back."

I look up at the traveler floating up in the sky above. "With Crota focused on that brave hunter I gathered the light of the traveler within as I leaped."

I gaze back into the eyes of the guardians. "With a slam I released all of my light into the chest of the soul of Crota."

I released a sad sigh as I gaze upon the ground shaking my head slowly. "We were fools. As soon as Crota's soul had hit the ground it had reformed only to slash fully through the hunter absorbing her soul."

A guardian speaks up. "How did you survive then?" 

I smile towards the inquisitive warlock. "The moment Crota had nearly impaled me his sword shattered. It seems a guardian had broken the physical blade."

"With no artefact to help manifest his being Crota was temporarily banished back into his realm."

I stand as I aim Thorn towards the moon. "Alas, his blade pierced my soul. I am corrupted by the darkness."

As the nearby guardians gasp I looked back to the inquisitive warlock form before. "Take this weapon, it has been a faithful friend in my battles and it may just be in yours."

As I release my grip on the grip I step back as I am enveloped by light. I slowly dissipate as my soul ascends to the traveler to forge new soldiers against the encroaching darkness. For only the unyielding guardians can ever hope to pierce the darkness. "Good luck guardian."

-  Final words of a Titan of the Angry Guardian Army.

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yeah i got bored.

 

My life reborn by Traveler's ghost
To rise and fight the darkness host,

A gift received I'll ne'er repay

Above the sky and far away.

Above the sky and through the stars
Through Luna, Venus, Earth and Mars.
Traveller commands and we obey.
Above the sky and far away.

A Warlock wields a holy light

A Titan lends us all their might

A Hunters skill will win the day

Above the sky and far away.

Above the sky and through the stars
Through Luna, Venus, Earth and Mars.
Traveller commands and we obey.
Above the sky and far away.

Then fall in guardians, grab your gun
With armour blazing like the sun.
Along the road to come-what may.
Above the sky and far away

Above the sky and through the stars
Through Luna, Venus, Earth and Mars.
Traveller commands and we obey.
Above the sky and far away.

 

Though in the years darkness has grown
We'll never face the foe alone
We all bear the mark AJSA
Above the sky and far away.

Above the sky and through the stars
Through Luna, Venus, Earth and Mars.
Traveller commands and we obey.
Above the sky and far away

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Mysteries

 

 

BRYjA2J.png

 

 

Tales From A Old Drunken Man, Heretic and Anger Part 1

 

A Hunter, a Warlock, and a Titan walk into a bar

The Guardian's armor clad fresh, newcomers.

Their voices loud and proud, their minds ignorant.

They sit at a table, telling jokes in high spirits.

The Hunter yells "Fear not Guardians!" She says to the many in the bar. "For we are chosen, slayers of darkness!"

The Titan raises his glass "Aye, strength!"

The Warlock only cackles like a hyena.

Their loud pride only to be a stopped by a low grit voice, "Arrogant, you young fools are."

The Hunter hearing to what this voice spoke out, questions back "Who dare speaks against us?"

An Old Man at the bar counter speaks but does not look back, "Only an Old Man with stories and drinks."

The Titan and Hunter stand, as if they threaten this man. The Titan demands "Aye, if drinks and stories are all you're. Than I say what waste."

The Hunter speaks with the Titan "Cloth as dirty and mugged as yours shows nothing but dust in age."

The Old Man only laughs, turning to them.

The Old Man stands, staring the three Guardians down. "A waste, dust in age? Poetic. Than how about this Old Man, waste your time with a story?"

Warlock would speak, still in seat "Story of what?"

The Old Man speaks back "Story of The Angry Guardian Army and one of their Mysteries"

The three Guardians caught in silence, motions still.

The Old Man smiles at the sight, "What? Thrall stolen your tongues? Sit, arrogant young ones."

 

...To Be Continued

 

 

 

Note: I quite enjoy the thought of a episodic style story. So you'll see the rest of these parts each Saturday. Leading to the collusion.

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If there is one constant in life it's war. War never changes. The land where battles are fight and those we fight might change but the way wars are fought shall never change. There are those who wish to avoid fighting, stay shackled behind the walls while they dabble in politics, then there are those who would rather cast aside those walls and fight with the biggest guns they have without thinking of the consequences or having a plan. We on the other hand know better, that sometimes the way to fight a war is through patience and planning. We want out of the city that is shackled to the abomination that brought the darkness with it and now has a false prophet as a puppet to speak for it. We will show them all that we do not need to fear what lies in the shadows that we are an army of chosen undead. We were brought back from death itself to fight for we will not stand idly by and fall like those before us have when the abomination arrived to them. We won't hide in fear and let ourselves devolve into shells of our former self. We will stand and walk through the realm of darkness and cut down those who fight against us and they will learn to fear us but we won't blindly fight, won't rush into battle without plans and tactics. As the master of the art of war said himself:

 

"All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him."

-Sun Tzu

 

We will crush those that stand against us through deception, tactics, and hard fought battles. We will let them have their false sense of security while we retreat only to come up from behind and cut them down. War has always been the same centuries before us, and it will be the same centuries after we are nothing more then dust. War never changes.

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"Six of them went down into that pit.

They were brave, but they were not ready.

We are."

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Legends

 

 

Book of Stick, Volume 2: Crota’s End

 

Rule 1: No man left behind in Forest Run.

Rule 2: Do not die.

Rule 3: Do not die.

Rule 4: Swordbearer holds chalice all times.

Rule 5: When Swordbearer says ‘fire’ you fire.

 

 

Rule 1,104,199: Use Rocket Launchers on Crota, oh and DO NOT DIE!

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Legends

 

 

tumblr_ndn86qwyED1qfxt2uo4_r1_500.gif

 

 

Six of us went down into the Pit.

Six returned, marching out.

We, the Angry Guardian Army.

We have seen what the Hive called a God.

Crota, Son of Oryx.

We took everything from him.

He will no longer can turn his eyes to Earth.

By the strength of our Light, he felt our wrath.

 

Now you may rest citizens of Earth, what now lurks in the Dark Below

 

Is Light.

 

 

 

Bringers of Light, Bringers of Crota's End.

 

Argetlam350, The Revenant Hand

Castellanchris, The Unfaltered Hand

Mattastick, The Spirited Heart

Mr E Meatshield, The Whispering Blade

WithaStick, Magister of Capres Sun

NfLfaN88, The Awoken Huntress Guide

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Mysteries

 

 

BRYjA2J.png

 

 

Tales From A Old Drunken Man, Heretic and Anger Part 2

 

The Hunter and Titan take their seats with flight. The Old Man limped towards table, seating himself.

The Old Man rested his hands on one another, “Young ones, many Legends and Mysteries surround The Angry Guardian Army. I’ll tell you of one.”

The Hunter remarks, “Which will it be, Old Man?”

The Old Man patience behind his words, “The tale of those who challenged a Heretic Vex God.”

The Warlock cringing of shock, “Heretic Vex God? You mean Atheon Old Man?”

The Titan barked towards The Warlock, “Aye, Atheon? How be his strength?”

The Warlock’s hand to The Titan’s shoulder, “Atheon denied the Vex’s God. For that he was imprisoned in a Vault of Glass.”

“Correct, young scholar. You have researched much,” The Old Man eyes to The Warlock.

The Titan to himself, “Aye, a strong punishment for great strength.”

The Warlock gave The Old Man a trouble look, “But Atheon is only myth, said to be trapped inside Venus.”

The Hunter leaning forward interested, “The Warlock says Atheon is myth. How can a myth be killed?”

The Old Man noticing the emptiness of his glass, “Good question, myths can only kill myths.”

“The Fireteam of myth, who was sent?” The Huntress following up on her interest.

The Old Man cocked his head to only follow with a nod, “Yes, young huntress. The tale of a Fireteam formed from the Angry Guardian Army, sent to challenge Atheon.”

The Old Man eyes still to the empty glass, “A Fireteam assembled by a younger rank, Commander Guardian Stick.”

The Warlock peaked in excited, “Guardian Stick, Magister of Capres Sun!”

“Correct young scholar, the very.” The Old Man caught the site of The Titan’s full glass.

The Hunter following The Warlock’s statement, “Younger rank? Meaning Stick was not Commander than?”

The Old Man gaze trained to the glass, “Yes young huntress, not Commander but Officer at the time of challenge.”

The Titan confused and impatient, “Aye, what single Guardian matter to a tale?”

The Warlock pats The Titan’s shoulder, “Not any Guardian my friend.”

“Your young scholar friend is correct, this Guardian matters to the tale greatly.” The Old Man said with a trailing off voice.

The Titan slams his fist on the table, “Aye, enough! Old Man, does thrall have your tongue! Tell the tale!”

The table shook, the glasses dance, The Old Man trance catch off and awaken. The table silent, followed by The Old Man’s grit low tone.

“Our tale begins deep inside Venus. Within the Vault of Glass. Home to the Heretic God, Atheon.”

 
...To Be Continued
 
 
 
Note: Now that we're getting to the meat of this drunken tale you're probably saying "Oh a tale of how great you are." First, yes... but besides that I have other ideas for this Drunk Old Man after this tale is over. But got to wait till next Saturday for the next part. Also this will be longest in this series.

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When we look out upon what we have lost. What we must reclaim.

When we see the tendrils of the darkness touch our empire.

This makes us Angry.

It burns in us like fire.

Like fire it must be tamed.

Not wasted. Not spent so that it flames out.

It must be stoked, tempered. Forged.

Forged into weapons.

Guardians.

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Weeks on end, drenched in the blood of my enemies, no signs of the hordes ever thinning. I kept fighting for that was the only thing I could do, fight and survive. To defeat the onslaught of enemies that poured from the darkness where ever I went. That was when I stumbled upon it, in the old remains of mother Russia amongst the ruins and bodies of hive and fallen, a weapon unidentifiable at first, beyond any recognition. It was the first time in months I returned to the tower, to give it to that disgusted cryptarch I wanted to bash upside his head. I doubted it was salvageable, maybe get some materials out of it and be once again on my way, out into the galaxy to return to the never ending battlefield. Oh how truly foolish I was to not know what ingenuity I stumbled upon. Even that smug cryptarch looked upon in awe at what I found once he was done with it. A weapon so might and powerful that any foe would hide from it, a weapon that could wipe out a plethora of enemies with one shot. A weapon that was thought only myth. It was a might Gjallarhorn. I might not be able to pronounce it's name but all I knew was that it would be my only companion on the battlefield and unlike that accursed ghost I'm stuck with, this companion has never failed me. My mighty Gjallarhorn shall be a weapon the enemies will know to fear and I will die with it in my hands, a weapon that will have to be pried from my cold dead hands before I relinquish its power.

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You know what could be quite fun? If we could get a fireteam of six to jump into a crucible map for a 'team photo' - taking a screen shot at the pre match (you know where everyone bamfs in and strikes a pose) if we had more than six could do a little photoshop.

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You know what could be quite fun? If we could get a fireteam of six to jump into a crucible map for a 'team photo' - taking a screen shot at the pre match (you know where everyone bamfs in and strikes a pose) if we had more than six could do a little photoshop.

 

Could try and do that this weekend, on a Sunday.

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First Strike

The Titan looked over one of the many rusted containers that littered what had once been an old storage warehouse. Now it resembled nothing so much as a mausoleum, the corpses of fallen Hive and Fallen littered the floor, as the Hunter slowly ran an oiled rag over the barrel of her rifle.

"What'd he doing now?" she asked.

"He's sending his ghost to hack the defence terminal. And swearing at it."

"At the terminal?"

"No the Ghost."

There was a moments silence as she joined the Titan to watch the Warlock they both simply thought of as the 'Wanderer' amble back to them. His hardonics coated helmet obscured his face. But somehow they knew, just knew he was grinning under there. There was a soft hum of propulsion as he joined the pair of them on the raised catwalk.

"I've got good news and better news. Good news is Dinklebot thinks he can get us through. The better news... " there was a pause as the sound of alarms rang throughout the chamber, "Is that we got incoming!"

With a woop of joy the wanderer leapt down from the catwalk and drew his autorifle.

The Titan and Hunter shared a glance, and then the sound of gunfire filled the chamber as two Fallen patrols entered the chamber.

"Pick targets and open fire!" roared the Hunter, letting a round loose to puncture the shields of a snarling Fallen captain. As she readied for another shot she watched appalled down the scope as a gloved hand reached out and struck it's monstous face accompanied with a flash of sparks and then the four armed brute burst into agonising flames.

The sound of manic, terrible laughter rang out in the chamber. 

A few minutes later they watched as the last of the defense grid beams shut down. 

The Wanderer was seen picking through the shattered remains of the Fallen and Hive forces, restocking on ammo.

The Titan leaned in to the Hunter and said quietly, "That boy aint right."

The Hunter nodded, "There are some things that you just don't DO to dregs."

"And when that wizard tried to flee? And he ran after it screaming 'Don't run! Don't Run!' "

They quietned as the Wanderer walked back to them, humming softfly.

"Right-o! Off we pop!" he called pleasantly reloading a large rocket launcher.

The three companions met minor resistance as they traversed onwards, before the Wanderers Ghost piped up. 

"The Lair is up ahead, under that Colony Ship. Just on the other side of all those Devils. "

"Your Mum is on the other side of all those Devils," snorted the Warlock.

The Hunter shook her head, "That makes no-"

She was interrupted as a jet of superheated solar energy tore past them, with a deafening boom, narrowly missing them all and leaving the wall just behind them scorched and blistered.

"Scatter!" called the Titan, "I'll draw it's fire you two go for the legs-"

But the Warlock was off again. And he was singing;

"Spider tank! Spider tank! Does what ever a Spider Tank does..."

The Titan sighed. "I f*ckin' hate that guy."

 A few minutes later the two of them staggered up to the smoking wreckage. The wanderer sat on the smoking remains of the Devil Walker. He jumped down at their approach and flung his arms around their shoulders.

"Now that, is what I call team work."

"You just spent the last five minutes screaming obscenities and firing rocket after rocket into it's face," said the Titan flatly.

"At one point one of the Vandals started crying and shouting out 'He's already dead? Why are you doing this!?'" said the Hunter, "I didn't even know Vandals could cry."

The Warlock sighed as if reliving a pleasant memory, "I know..... good times. Goooood times... Still! Onwards and upwards!"

The three of them passed into the complex on the other side. They were met with a dimly lit chamber, filled with the bleached decaying bones of the dead. Many lay as they had dropped, whereas others had been propped up on poles as ghastly trophies or adorned tattered banners of the House of Devils as obscene decoration.

"So this is the Devils Lair," observed the Titan's Ghost.

The trio reached the final door. There was the sharp clicking and snapping of the guardians checking their weapons and reloading. Even the Wanderer seemed relatively focused. The Hunter gave a silent nod, returned by the others and the three of them stepped into the main chamber.

As they filed into the room, the first thing they saw were the Fallen dregs, kneeling in supplication. Awful as the aliens were in themselves, they were nothing compared the awful thing that dominated the room. Like a bruise on the face of reality itself; Sepiks Prime hovered in the centre of the chamber, anointing it's chosen with Ether. The silence in the chamber was broken only by the gentle thrum of the Servitor God's propulsion. 

As the guardians fanned in and took positions behind the dregs the Hunter thought about the Wanderer's silence. Whereas before the Warlock had seemed half crazed, now all of a sudden he seemed serious almost stoi-

"SURPRISE MOTHER F*CKERS!!!"

Of course. There was a screech of pain as the first of the Dregs exploded in arcane fire, the radiant energy of his solar grenade catching two more Fallen and a Shank auto turret in the blast. 

The hunter cocked a head at the Titan who simply shrugged and said, "Well, we had to start shootin' sometime."

Once it's minions had been despatched, Sepiks Prime seemed to shake itself as if waking from a  slumber, with a mechanical screech of hatred and rage the monstrous engine glared miopically at the interlopers. Before a rocket smashed into it's side.

"Hey fay boy!" celled, the Wanderer, in a faux American accent, "You and me gonna be real good friends!"

"Hell with it," muttered the Hunter, sighting down her rifle " If you can't beat em... Yo, bits for brains!" The creature turned towards her and then seemed to wobble uncertainly as the rifle round hit home with an almighty crack against it's armoured shell. The next moment she was diving for cover as the Servitor sent a bolt of shattering void energy in her direction. In another moment it's attention was once more redirected as the Titan let loose a hail of void tipped, machine gun bullets, that rang out like hail on a tin roof. 

As snap and roar of rockets and gunfire filled the air, Sepiks seemed to make a decision in a burst of blue energy it had vanished, teleporting itself just behind the Titan, who cried out in pain as a wash of void energy enveloped him. With a cry of pain, the Titan vanished as his Ghost employed the safety final safety measures, preserving him from true death. 

The Hunter cried out and made for the prone Ghost, before she was forced back behind cover as a small shoal of Shanks began to pepper her position with fire, the air around her crackling with ozone as the arc energy struck the crate she was using for cover. It was then she felt a sickening crunch to the back of her skull and was sent sprawling across the metal floor. She had not even noticed the Fallen Captian was there. It leered down at her a it lowered it's weapon and fired-

But then, as if from nowhere the Wanderer was in front of her- the Fallen Captain's shot met the crackling blue flame shield the Warlock was wreathed in. There was a look of confsion on the creatures face as the Warlock waved.

"Hear that?" he said, drawing the creatures attention to the rising hum that had emanated from the fusion rifle that was pointed at it's midriff. 

There was a sad look of realisation that lasted just a fraction of a second before the the alien was vapourised in sudden snap of blue energy.

"You all right?" he asked,helping her to her feet, she pushed him aside, "I'm fine. But we can't let that thing devour his ghosts light."

There was a sudden detonation of void energy from behind there cover, as if the Servitor God intended to remind him that it was still there.

"I'm gonna go get him," he said calmly, "You keep firing at that thing."

Without waiting for a reply the Wanderer leaped over the crate and fired a stream of fusion energy at the waiting Fallen. Those that did not scatter felt the sting of incalculable energy bursting through them.  In another second he was at the fallen Titan, linking with his Ghost and transferring energy to complete the revival process. In a flash of white the Titan was reborn.

"Thanks man," he said, checking the action on his machine gun, "Now lets kill this son of a bitch."

Manwhile the hunter had been firing round after round into Sepiks Prime. It's front plate was extremely dented now and it seemed to wail and screech as if in tormented rage as it hovered over her position. Then came the shout-

"Hey purple one eyed monster! Catch!" A ball of solar flame detonated against the servitors side causing it to turn as if angered.  What it saw was the Titan, focusing all his light and strength into a crushing hammer blow, that connected with a dull clang and caused the front panel to buckle and sheer away from the centre. The Hunter saw it and focused her own light into her weapon, gathering it all into one powerful shot that burned like the heart of suns it struck home, tearing into the centre of the monster. It reeled drunkenly and then span wildly before resting just a few inches in front of the warlock.

"Ey up cock," he called in a friendly way, before snapping out his hand and puncturing the gaping wound in the metal with a blast of scorching heat, that sent the monster shaking before it let out one scarping howl of pain and defeat and detonated sending sparks of glimmer data into the air.

In the silence that followed the Titan began to shake a little as the adrenaline finally let go and he felt a cold prickle of sweat run down his back. The Hunter gave a long drawn out sigh of relief. 

"Well boys that was... interesting," She said drawing out her Ghost, "But I think three life threatening encounters in one day is enough."

The Titan pulled out his own ghost and started to give commands to trans mat back to orbit, "Yeah me too," he turned to the Wanderer, "Hey man thanks. You're one weird dude, but you come through in a pinch."

"Ha! Well weird dude who comes through in a pinch is my middle name," yawned the Warlock, "it's that or Kevin. I forget sometimes."

"Hey," asked the Hunter, "What was your name? I missed it."

"Oh me I'm just Wi-" 

But then they were gone in another all too familiar blue flash leaving the Warlock alone in the shattered building.

The silence was broken by his Ghost, "You know killing a Prime could really help defeat the Fallen on Earth."

He snorted, "You said that about the first Archon we capped. The way you were talking it's like we'd killed the president. Turned out he was like the blokewho brought the coffee or something.."

"That's not strictly true..."

"Your mums not strictly true. Get us out of here."

Another final flash of blue and then silence returned.

End.

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Mysteries

 

 

xDEZk84.png

 

 

Tales From A Old Drunken Man, Heretic and Anger Part 3

 

The Old man telling his tale. The Hunter excited, The Warlock listening, The Titan questioned. All leaning to The Old Man.

“Our Guardians stood in the Vault of Glass. Stick step forward, in a roar commanded Atheon to appear and be challenged.” The Old Man said, subtly waving his hand.

The Titan interrupt, “Aye, a roar?”

“Yes young brute.” The Old Man spoke, “A roar of Anger.”

The Old Man continued, “Atheon appeared. Stick stood, while the rest shook.”

The Titan once more interrupts, “Aye, they shook of weakness at Atheon’s site?”

The Old Man spoke, “No. They shook from Stick’s roar.”

The Warlock added, “Atheon’s appearance? What was it like?”

“A Vex giant, armor most clear and bright. Perfect glass.” Spoke The Old Man.

The Old Man reaches for The Titans drink.

The Titan’s fist hit the table, “Aye, Old Man! Stealing drinks your play!”

The Hunter her voice firm to The Old Man, “If your play is to steal drinks, leave. If not finish your tale.”

The Old Man looks between The Hunter and The Titan. Retreating his hand back.

The Old Man giving the two a respectful nod, “My apologies, like I said I’m all stories and drinks.”

The Warlock’s hand to The Titan’s shoulder, to calm him. “Continue. How was Atheon defeated?”

The Old Man retracing back on point, “Atheon lives in time. Past, Present, and Future. He cannot be defeated. So we’re told. A paradox, a relic trapped- Kabr, The Legionless’s Light.”

 
...To Be Continued
 
 
 
Note: I know this one didn't come out on Saturday. Was pretty busy with things, but I'll be back on point this next Saturday with the last part. Also this is the length these tales will be told, nice short and to the point.

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In the end it is too late to save us, we are shackled to the one who calls himself the Speaker. A false prophet who leads the last of humanity with fear of what lies outside the walls so we remain shackled to the Traveler. Eventually we will be husks of what we once were, cursed to follow the same path of those that found the Traveler before us. I see the truth, what the Traveler truly is. It's no beacon of hope or some great savior of man, no it is not light but darkness that consumes the light and it's chaos brings the rest of those cursed by it or those who thrive on chaos. We will soon join the Fallen, be torn between factions and rank ourselves accordingly on what class we are and what race we identify ourselves as, and worship false gods as we too join the never ending cycle of this abomination. The few of us that see the truth may make one last stand to try and fight against the false prophet and the abomination he represents but in the end we will die and all will be for naught. It is to late to save us, only prolong the inevitable and pray the next ones who find this wretched thing are able to not blindly see it as a beacon of hope but what it truly is, a bringer of apocalypse, a servant of chaos, the beginning of Ragnarok.

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Mysteries

 

 

xDEZk84.png

 

 

Tales From A Old Drunken Man, Heretic and Anger Part 4 Finale

 

The Titan roar proudly, “Aye Kabr’s, The Legionless! True strength!”

The Warlock questioned, “Kabr’s Light?”

“Yes young scholar, Kabr’s Light broke into the paradox. Forging a relic.” The Old Man answered.

The Hunter adding, “How could a Light forging relic kill The Heretic?”

The Titan continuing his roar, “Aye, Kabr’s was strongest to enter the Vault of Glass. So say the stories.”

The Old Man nodded, “Yes young brute. Kabr’s fought deep into the Vault of Glass. Smithing the relic, Aegis from Vex bodies.”

The Hunter giving off a smirk, “Scrapping bot-heads, only to smith a relic?”

The Warlock to The Old Man, “What more?”

The Old Man continued, “Stick took Aegis. Wield Kabr’s Light, commanded Kabr’s strength.”

“Stick used this Light and own Anger to shield the fireteam. The battle was long, but in the end they stood. As Atheon shattered and screamed in defeat, Stick yelled back. Stick’s voice now housing the Vault of Glass.” The Old Man nearing the end of the tale.

The Hunter looking to the others, “That’s it? That tells me nothing to defeat a great being like Atheon.”

The Titan adding to The Hunter’s comment, “Aye, only bedtime stories!”

The Old Man stood up in a voice of pity, “Young fools. Innocent minds. The lesson is with sheer Anger and strength of Light shield them to kill a Heretic. Something, in time you will learn.”

The Warlock smiled holding a glass to The Old Man, “My comrades may joke. But I understand. You earned this.”

The Old Man smiled back taking the glass, “One day this Old Man that is only stories and drinks. May tell your stories.”

 
...To Be Continued
 
 
 
Note: That finishes up the first Tales From a Drunk Old Man. Doesn't mean it is the last, we'll see this character again telling more tales next Saturday. As we start the next tale of "The Hands, Unfaltered and Revenant".

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Six guardians go down into the pits of darkness to confront the son of Oryx. All looking forward to the rewards they would reap. They conquered every challenge that lay before them, that is until Crota himself. Things did not go as well as they had hoped, and it took them far longer than they expected to fell the God. Although they were able to defeat him, they too succumbed to his wrath.

 

All that was left was this record, found from a dead Ghost:

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Legends

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TaZ2iZddzNk

 

The Iron Banner, the true test of strongest enduring strength.

Guardians geared and ready to face off.

But, if there ever can be a Guardian who Prevailed Unbroken.

Others will be impress, Lord Saladin will not.

But, that is one sexy Lynx ain’t I right.

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Legends

 

Magister of Capres Sun

 

An Awoken, with a forgotten past.

Born to Reef, and trained to serve The Queen.

In time the Young Female Awoken became apart of her highest guards. Next to her dear friend Petra.

But, serving The Queen is no safe life. Each mission far more dangerous than the last.

There was a last. The Awoken was sent to Earth, tracking Fallen enemy for The Queen.

She did not come along. By her side stood a pack of Fallen from the House of Wolves. Who served The Queen.

The Mission was, simple. Until they were spotted by Sepiks Prime and the House of Devil.

The Awoken and her pack were pushed and chased. Batter and weak. But in the end, only the Wolves came back to the Queen.

What seem like a lifetime had passed. The Awoken was brought back by the smallest of Lights. But, with no memory.

This Awoken however continued to go great feats.

Stopping the Vex invasion, Conquering Atheon, Bringing Forth Crota's Death.

She even now helps lead the greatest Guardian Army, The Angry Guardian Army.

She was even brought into The Praxic Order, and given the title Magister of Capres Sun.

Her second chance though, has just came.

When The Queen called for help after the Wolves betrayal. This Awoken remembered.

The Wolves, her pack, shot and killed her all that time back. They took her first life.

It is not The Queen the should fear now...

 

As Commander and Magister of Capres Sun. I command the Angry Guardian Army to hunt down and kill all Wolves!

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One last time...


Six went down into the Pit.


Six returned, marching out.


We, the Angry Guardian Army.


We have seen what the Hive called a God.


Crota, Son of Oryx.


We took everything from him.


His Will's screams have be silenced.


By the strength of our Light, he felt our wrath.


 


One last time... citizens of Earth, what now lurks in the Dark Below is Light.


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Legends

 

 

 

From the moment we met, you called yourself The Kell of Kells.

Lost to your own madness, named yourself a prophet.

Your attempts to keep that name where met with resistance.

Locked back in your cell, you must've boiled in your own anger and hate for us.

Waiting for the day for your cell to open, and us to be there standing.

We been waiting as well, we've been boiling in our own anger and hate for you.

 

Skolas, The Kell of Kells. Today, we settle this. We brought Gjallahorn.

 

 

 

The First, Kell of Kells Slayers

 

Withastick, Magister of Capres Sun

Argetlam350, The Revenant Hand

Castellanchris, The Unfaltered Hand

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https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/125107445/0/0

 

The City is dead.
But yet a means to a beginning.
The others squander,
With attempts at resurrection,
Or petty secrets.
But we are Astro-Mercenaries.

We see a purpose in the Death.
A light in the Darkness.
We deny Ourselves passage
On the back of a decrepit God;
Cowering in the remnants of its dying light.
We take hold of Our own destiny.

Rather than reliving the glories
Of days of future passed,
We tear down these monuments to our sins
And turn their “Golden” artifacts
Into the cosmic fleet of a new Orbit.
A Dead Orbit.

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