Legend Untold Chapter 19 Blank Slate Chapter 33 [i]Freehold Part 5[/i] “-so then we ran out of there with death biting at our heels and drowned our memories in alcohol once we got back to the City. And we didn’t even remember to pull that thing out of Quintel’s rear end until he tried sitting in his ship and shrieked like a Thrall,” Welkine finished his story as we walked down a road carved through the sand. “I don’t like that story,” I grimaced. “Definitely a bit on the…descriptive side,” Blanc shuddered visibly as she hovered around Keis. “But that sounded so awesome!” Drew exclaimed, “How did you guys not like it?” “Too violent,” I answered. “Bad humor,” Sierra said. “You were in it,” Yvan added, directed at Welkine. “Did anyone aside from Drew like it?” Welkine pleaded. Trixie and Null raised their hands, but that didn’t cheer Welkine up. “Quintel?” Welkine tried. “Hey, that was a very bad day. You’re the jerk that enjoyed my suffering and almost dying,” Quintel told him flatly. “Keis?” Welkine kept grasping for straws. “Yes Welkine?” Keis snapped out of deep thought, unaware of what we were talking about. “Nothing buddy,” Welkine’s shoulders sagged visibly. “Two o’clock, second and fifth floors,” I reported offhandedly, still looking for threats even while we were all talking. Crag, Yvan, and Sierra all instantly snapped up their sniper rifles and each took a couple shots, sending some Cabal bodies tumbling down to the sand from a building we were passing. “Dang it guys,” Null whined, “You never leave any for me.” As the others lowered their weapons, I grabbed Null’s wrist and dragged up his weapon to point at the second floor. A moment later a Centurion peeked out a window and Null fumbled with his gun a moment before blasting its head off. The others looked to the window curiously to see what Null had shot. “How’d you know that was there?” Null whispered to me. “There’s almost always a Centurion where there are Psions,” I pointed to the corpses of some Psions Sierra had shot down a moment ago. “Huh…I never noticed that,” the Warlock rubbed his hand over the chin of his helmet. “The archives say the Psions seem like an enslaved species of the Cabal, but we don’t really have any proof,” I described, “And if I had a group of hyper intelligent prisoner soldiers, I’d want an officer guarding them.” “Somehow, despite how anti-oppressive Will is, he seems like the only one who could successfully create and run an empire with enslaved soldiers if given the means to,” Ilya noted. “Dictator William,” Sierra shuddered, “That’d be awful.” “Because you can’t stand the thought of me being in control of you?” I teased. “That, and because you’d probably still act so nice to everyone but be pulling all the strings,” Sierra explained. “And make everything look tacky,” Yvan commented. “Ew, I do not like picturing evil Will,” Veronica spoke as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. “But Willy is so nice,” Trixie bubbled, then once again grew ominous, “And in this universe there is no good and evil, only differing views. Nothing is pure.” “But what if he’s already evil and playing us like pieces in some big game?” Welkine joked, helping us move on from Trixie’s rant, but after a moment he and everyone else turned to look at me suspiciously. “I have no evidence to prove that I’m not bending your minds to my will as we speak,” I stated, managing to keep my humor out of my voice. “Nah,” Nat dismisses, “You can’t fake that kind of purity, even if you’re as brainy as Will.” “Yeah, Yvan’s the real power monger here,” Null nudged the vulgar Hunter with his elbow. “Too bad all you louts won’t conform,” Yvan grouched. “I wanna be in charge!” Drew declared. “If we all did what he said we wouldn’t last the day,” Sierra sighed. “This’d be a fun place to be in charge of,” Trixie skipped along, “Sand Land is like a huge beach without all the water!” “Honestly the sand bothers me more than the Cabal,” Sierra griped, “It’s getting everywhere.” “And it swallowed an entire civilization,” I added. “You get used to it,” Drew told Sierra. “You’ve only been here twice!” Sierra argued. “And I learned much in my short time here,” Drew spoke in the best wise voice he could muster. “You’re such an idiot,” the Huntress huffed. “And you look and sound like regurgitated cultist scum,” Yvan joined in on the insults. “Why do you pick on him more than everyone else?” Nat gave Yvan a small shove. “Because there’s so much more to pick on,” Yvan fixed his hood. “You must have a lot of enemies,” Sierra commented. “He does…” Null sighed. “More people for me to be angry at for no reason that way,” Yvan seemed to relish the thought. “That doesn’t seem like a good way to live,” I lectured, “It leaves you without friends whenever you need them.” “Can it, fishbone, you’re not my mother,” Yvan snapped, “I don’t need anyone’s help.” “He doesn’t mean that Will, he likes us…somewhere deep deep deep down inside,” Welkine encouraged me, then paused for a moment, “You know, you pick on Will and I a lot, too, Yvan.” “Because one of you is pathetic and the other is too soft to defend himself,” Yvan told us. “Hey! Pathetic?!” Welkine protested. “Oh, maybe it does have a brain,” Yvan commented sarcastically. “I really don’t care about your insults,” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Probably because you’re too used to Sierra dragging you by the tongue,” Yvan took a shot at me. That made everyone go quiet for a moment. “I do not,” Sierra crossed her arms, but seemed uncomfortable once everyone began staring at her, “Okay, I call a lot of names but it’s just some…some motivational speech.” “There is a Guardian on top of that building,” Keis interrupted the conversation, and we all looked to where he was pointing. On one of the buildings that wasn’t quite so high and was enveloped by a dune on one side stood a single Guardian. He had clearly spotted us already but wasn’t waving as Nat had. Instead, he seemed to wait a moment to make sure we were all watching before leaping off and hurtling towards the ground below. An instant before hitting the Guardian Blinked, vanishing and reappearing a few feet off the ground with all of his momentum taken away so he could land safely after performing a backflip. “Bloody show pony,” Yvan muttered as the Guardian ran up to us. He was a male Warlock, with a very flashy robe that had vertical black and white stripes. He looked familiar. “PURPLE REIGN AND RED!” the man exclaimed in a clear and carrying voice that I recognized instantly. “Is that the guy who hosts the arm wrestling events?” Sierra groaned. “Yep,” I nodded. “This is going to be annoying,” the Huntress complained. Pt4: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/245634624/0/0 Pt6: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/245634777/0/0 ToC: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/212710816/0/0