[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/246624086/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] A harsh wind blew across the fields, shaking the few trees and bushes that defied the otherwise barren wasteland. The flat plain stretched far and wide, ending with abrupt clusters of hills and rocky outcroppings. A wall of wood with sparse patches of steel reinforcements stood prominently between the two contrasting terrains, separating them and blocking any passage as it curled around to form an enclosure in the hills. Homes were built upon the elevated ground, growing more numerous further into the enclosed area. Men stood atop the makeshift wall, idly surveying their surroundings. Each one wore armor and carried a weapon. Two of the men leaned over the parapet of the wall, facing the setting sun and watching the plain as it was cast in shades of orange and red. Another man joined them, muttering a casual greeting, "Howdy, fellas." "Ritford? Here already?" The taller of the two asked, "Thought shift change wasn't for another hour." "'You’re right," the newcomer confirmed, "Had to get away from the kids." "The joys of parenthood..." the taller man chuckled. "Hold on," the shorter man frowned, glancing back to the town, "You didn’t leave your kids home alone, did you?" "Relax," Ritford chuckled, "I’m not [i]that[/i] bad at parenting. Savannah closed shop early. I'm just here 'cause I ain't got anywhere better to be than with you idiots." "We're idiots?" The taller man snorted, "What's that make you?" "Dumb as a rock?" The shorter man guessed, grinning broadly. "Hey, hey," Ritford raised his hands passively, "I'd say I'm at least smart as two rocks." The joke wasn’t exceptionally funny, but they all laughed anyway. As their amusement faded, they settled against the battlements and looked out over the plain stretching out in front of them. "Best time o’ the day," Ritford remarked contentedly. "Well sure," the taller man heaved, "If you like havin’ the sun in your eyes." "Ha!" Ritford barked, "Fair enough." "It’s nice," the shorter man agreed, "This sucks, you know? E’ery day we look out an see the world out there, but it jus’ reminds me how there’s nothin’ out there but the spiders." He pointed out into the distance and swept his arm to indicate everything around them. His comrades grunted knowingly, then the the taller man commented, "Brenon says there's gettin' to be more of 'em. Makin' it hard out there." "Eh, you’re more likely to run into gunslingers out there," the shorter man dismissed, "Or Warlords. They’re the problem." "Oh no, don't get to talkin' 'bout stuff like that," Ritford warned, "We work for a Warlord, remember? Where’d we be without-" "Brenon said the Fallen are hittin' the mountains near the Cosmodrome," the taller man interrupted gravely, adjusting a strap on his armor. The other two fell into shocked silence, and he continued, "Organized attacks. Said they're headin' west." The three didn't speak for a minute, sorting through fearful thoughts, then the shorter man prayed aloud, "Light protect us." Ritford bent over the parapet and exhaled slowly, "We’ll be okay." They stayed how they were for awhile, watching the shadows lengthen across the fields as the Sun sunk below the horizon. Soon it was hard to see the distant reaches of the expanse, and distant forms became blurred silhouettes. "Hult!" A woman bellowed from a farther point on the wall. The taller man responded to the name and his head snapped up, followed by those of the other two. The woman who had called their attention pointed frantically out into the field and hollered, "Make yourself useful! Somethin's out there!" The trio cursed under their breath and hustled along the walkway. Hult tugged a sniper rifle off of his back and slowed down, leveling the gun and peering through the scope to see what was causing the commotion. "Traveler almighty," he gasped. • • • The man's knees hit the stone floor hard, jarring his bones. The only things that stopped him from crumpling to the ground were the tight grips of the two militiamen who had shoved him down. His head hung low and his dark hair, filthy and long from travel and neglect, fell in front of his brown eyes like a knotted curtain. The gunmen tugged on the weakened man's threadbare and stained clothes to ensure that he didn't collapse, but didn't allow him to move. "Where did you find him?" A female voice questioned, marked with a mechanical edge. An Exo sat before them in a large wooden chair, appearing to be a makeshift throne, with two armed guards on either side. Her metal skin was white and she wore finer armor than that of the others. She stared at the decrepit man with inexpressive orange eyes. One of the militiamen spoke up, "He wandered into town from the east, m’Lady. We searched him. Pretty bad condition an' no belongin’s, so we gave 'im a bit o' food an' drink. He actually requested to see you, ma'am." "Really?" The Exo inquired with a hint of curiousity, studying the man. The ragged stranger kept his head down. "Nothin' special, ma'am," the militiaman clarified, "Just said he wanted to speak with whoever was in charge. We told 'im we'd be takin' 'im 'ere anyway, so you could see ‘im an' all that." The Exo looked sharply down to the man at her feet, then demanded, "Speak. I’m in charge here. Why did you ask for an audience with me?" The man was silent for a moment, gathering his strength, then forced out words in a heavy breath, "Are you a Warlord?" His voice was weak, but sharp enough to cut through the whole chamber. The guards shifted tensely, unsure of how to react. The Exo watched the man intently as he caught his breath. The man's gaze remained locked on the ground, and the Exo replied measuredly, "I am." "Do you kill people?" The man questioned, his voice faltering, "Everyone’s killin’ each other, but we’re not the enemy…" The gunmen looked to their leader, waiting for her orders. After awhile, the Exo asked, "Will that be all?" The man said nothing more, breathing raggedly, so the Exo addressed the militiamen, "Put him in a cell and get him some food and water. Later we’ll find out where he's from and why he's here. Assume he's an assassin or thief." The man was hefted to his feet and half-dragged out of the chamber, leaving the Exo to mull over what he had said. One of the guards was the first to break the silence, “I think that guy might be missing a few screws.”