[b]Twilight Gap: Unknown Aftermath[/b] Perspective: Tersik, the Punisher Rank: Captain [i]Emergency Broadcast(translated from Eliksni): Attention. We have failed in our attempt to take the Great Machine. The wielders of it managed to counter us. House of Wolves betrayed us. All remaining, fall back.[/i] A captain, leaking ether, stumbled out of the trees. A team of six managed to push them back. He clutched two shock blades in his hand and held a shrapnel launcher in the other two. His crew had already been killed by the one with the lost horn. Those known as...hunters would be coming after survivors soon. This recently promoted captain, Tersik, sent out a desperate signal for support. He knew that he would be found. Someone would find his signal, but he didnt know if it would be friend or foe. He heard the sound of those...weaponless pikes that the wielders of the Light used. He struggled forward. Tersik heard the sound of footsteps coming after him and he knew that they were not his brethren. If he was to go down, they would regret trying to do so. Despite the pain, the captain started running and he could hear his enemies behind him. He activated his arc shield and loaded his shrapnel launcher. He heard slight movement to his right and he turned and fired his shrapnel launcher. He heard a shout of pain and a body his the ground as one of those little balls of light emerged and flew away. Another jumped out of the foliage and fired at Tersik with an auto rifle. After taking a few hit, he grabbed the rifle's barrel with his hand lunged forward to stab his foe. He heard slight breath as the body crumpled to the dust and another ball of light flew to cover. Another one, dressed in a cloak jumped out and slashed his side with a sword, going through his arc barrier but not break it. The captain spit some blood into his helmet, now breathing in blood and ether as he parried another blow and slashed the cloaked one's helmet, sending him to the ground. Tersik felt more impact on his shield as he turned to face another one. He managed to knock the man's gun out of his hands, but that didnt stop him from using his fists. Tersik attempted to shoot him, but he ducked out of the way and delivered a right hook to the captain's helmet. He tried to fire again, but he had no ammo left, not after their failure to take the Great Machine. He blocked another punch with his own gun and clubbed the man on the side of the end, at least knocking him out. Then there was a flash of light. Tersik could feel it. He started running, for he had felt that flash before. So many times during the previous battle had he felt it. He saw their power kill hundreds if not thousands of his brethren. But he had one...last...desperate idea. He drew all of his power into his shield and kept running, knowing that he could outrun the others, but not the source. When he ran a good distance away, he turned to face his foe. It was the cloaked one, a blade made entirely out of lightning in his hands. Tersik could feel the electricity in the air. He looked to his left and saw a tunnel. A way of escape! But the cloaked one would follow...the cloaked one would kill. Tersik knew that it was life or death here. If this failed, he was dead. If not...it would be his little secret. The man with the lightning blade lunged at him and at the same time, Tersik channeled all the power of his shield on his hand. He grabbed the arc blade in mid strike. Then...an explosion. Osiris came not long after, attracted by the blast. He saw a few Ghosts floating above their guardians bodies. Then he came to the source. A hunter body lay there with his ghost above him. His helmet was blown off and underneath was a look of shock. Then Osiris looked at the cave...and saw Fallen tracks entering the darkness. [b]To be continued....[/b] [i]In files on a Freelancer and other stories.[/i]

Experienced bracket Title: The Guardian Killer From my story "Ambition's End" [spoiler] “A gift, Vyksis. I crafted it on my travels.” Tivik handed a small, metallic replica of the Traveler to his younger brother. The smaller Eliksni took it up in his claws, inspecting it in amazement. “That is what I seek, brother. Our ancestors were blessed by the Great Machine, and I believe we can be chosen. That we can be more, just as humanity is. “How?” Vyksis closed his hand around the contraption. “Warfare is not an option. I believe their city is a bastion that cannot be felled.” The vandal looked out the window of their rickety camp. The Traveler was barely visible in the distance, hidden among the darkness of the night and countless clouds, but Tivik could still see it as clearly as he had when he stood at the apex of the American continents. “The way to glory is alongside them.” - Tivik ran as fast as he could, gripping his younger brother’s arm tight. Their home had become a flickering lantern of bullets and arc rounds in the night. The unrelenting snowstorm in front of them pelted his mask. He spat out the freezing water creeping into his mandibles and knelt, recharging himself with ether. He offered a large portion to Vyksis. “Brother, why did father have to die? Why was he killed by those we want to trust?” Vyksis asked, shaking in the cold. Tivik shed his cloak and wrapped it around the smaller Eliksni. He squeezed his four eyes. “Vyksis, that lightbearer… did what they had to to survive. They do not understand Eliksni like you or I. It was a matter of circumstance.” He put a hand on Vyksis’ shoulder. “I do not blame that human for father’s death. I hope you can understand.” He stood up and continued walking, though no longer with his brother in tow. “Find a group that will care for you, Vyksis. You are still young, however, I am at an age where I must provide for myself. I will find a crew, I will survive, and I will come back to you. We will achieve our goal, I promise.” “I think I understand.” Vyksis nodded. “I won’t let father’s death change anything.” “Good. Go now, and I will see you again, brother.” He grimaced in pain as he turned around, disappearing from Vyksis’ view into the snowstorm. “I will be strong for you, Vyksis. Whatever it takes.” - “Dock the heretic.” The captain ordered, slowly approaching his chained vandal. Tivik struggled against his binds. “My captain, please. I am past that.” “Oh? Then what are these?” The Eliksni held a datapad before Tivik’s face. He did not have to look, for the information before him had been written by himself. He lowered his head and made one last plea. “Though I have faith in guardians, my feelings about our kind do not change. We are noble. We deserve the Traveler, but this is not the way. We will go extinct by throwing ourselves at their walls!” “Listen close, Tivik.” The captain leaned closer. “We have no room for weaklings on our crew. You will either shape up,” he held a shock blade high. “Or die!” His weapon ripped through Tivik’s shoulder, severing his lower arm immediately. Tivik was still processing the pain as his other arm was cut off. His screams echoed throughout the cold oppressive walls surrounding them. The captain held his hand out, and a fellow vandal dropped two docking caps into Noxis’ waiting claws. “Do you know what happens when one of us holds back because of our petty ideals? We fail. Failure leads to death! And a catalyst for failure like you,” Noxis covered the dreg’s wounds with the caps. A crude patch for Tivik’s honor starving injuries. “Might as well be dead. Consider this a sign of mercy. I ought to have beheaded you were you stand” He and the rest of the crew began to exit the room. Tivik could feel their four eyed glares of disdain through his fading vision. Tivik’s remaining arms were released, and he collapsed onto the floor of their lair. His head buzzed, and his torso screamed in pain. “Failure.” He whispered, “I am a failure of an Eliksni.” He struggled to push himself up. If I die now, what have I lived for?” He looked around, his vision spotty. “If they find out I have a brother, he will surely suffer. I cannot let that happen.” He stumbled to his quarters. A newfound, desperate resolve filled his heart. - Tivik the dreg looked over the three struggling guardians in the shallow canyon before him. A hive wizard shrieked as it crumbled to ash. “Move, move! Our light’s still-“ the titan coughed as he hauled the corpse of his hunter friend over. “C’mon, we can revive him if we just get out of here.” Tivik watched the guardians attempt to escape. He looked over at his wire rifle, which lay in the snow next to him. He started to reach for his weapon, then shook his head. If he could hold out for another year, perhaps, he would be fine. Before he could leave the guardians be, though, the footfalls of his captain sounded behind him, freezing him in place. “This is your chance, Tivik.” Noxis’ words crept into Tivik’s head as approached. “Do you remember what I told you?” He grabbed the wire rifle, brushed it off, and shoved it into Tivik’s arms. “There is no room for failure on our crew.” He pushed the dreg forward. “Go… do what you have to. To survive. You deserve it.” A mixture of fear and desire was enough to snap the Eliksni into focus. He crept forward, his legs hugging the cliff, and took aim, first at the titan. He watched the guardian struggle to drag the hunter along. Sorrow began to entangle his heart, and the reticle of the wire rifle swayed. Perhaps if he pretended he missed… “If you do not kill them now, our crew might catch one or two eventually.” Noxis warned, taking note of the dreg’s hesitation. Tivik swallowed as he pulled the trigger. Noxis was right. The rest of their crew was around the area, and wouldn’t hesitate to murder the guardians in cold blood. The heavy guardian fell, and he desperately reached for his dropped comrade. Tivik closed his eyes and ended the titan’s life. He then took aim at a confused warlock, and all was done. He turned away, refusing to watch their ghosts flicker out, drowned in darkness. Noxis huffed in amusement. “Tivik, you surprise me again, but this time, it is a good surprise. In a way, you are still a failure for abandoning your dream. One would think your resolve would stop you. However,” He walked around the dreg. “You’ve done well to get past your own mind. Self-preservation is a good motivator, is it not? You are a true Eliksni, working and living for his crew.” He pulled Tivik forward. “Do not worry, you do not understand beings like they, so you cannot be hurt by their deaths, and they cannot blame you.” Tivik came out of his haze. “What have I done?” His arms shook, and he dropped his rifle. “What have you done? Tivik, you’ve made me proud.” Proud. The word shook the dreg’s entire being. He wept uncontrollably, deprived of approval since the day he lost his home. He saw his long dead father in his mind, and his thoughts began to wander to his brother. The rest of Noxis’ crew began to surround the two, attracted by the sound of gunfire. Noxis reached down and pulled the docks off of Tivik. He took Tivik’s upper right arm and held it up for all to see. “Do you see those three dying ghosts?” He swept another arm across the pit. “That was the work of our very own human sympathizer! Now, witness the rise of the Guardian Killer, Tivik!” The rest of the crew cheered, clicked, and roared in light of the dreg’s transformation. [/spoiler]

Bracket: Experienced Title: [b]Self and House[/b] [spoiler]There is no doubt, the debris fell from the Reef. The tech of the blue ape-kin is familiar. She clicks her mandibles in disgust as she watches the mountainside from her perch, crouched atop an outcropping of stone. Ice-Land, the humans called this place. She is not impressed. There is not much ice. There is no salvage here, among this alien wreckage, not even parts for repairs. It is as hollow as the sterile un-people it once belonged to. A gust of wind blows up the slope of the mountain, stirring the Winter banner draped over her shoulders. Few wear the colors of her House now, or any House. They have all heard the call, the message given by the two-soul Prince of the scattered Awoken, to come together. But she knows what the Crow really is: a puppet to many masters. First to the Marakel, and now to the Kings. This is the plan of Craask, the Coward Kell, who hid his House for centuries while Devils and Winter fought with honor and Wolves were scattered, and now will let the Houses dissolve. Craask says through Crow that the age of the Houses reaches its dusk, that Eliksni must unite. Skolas, the Rabid Kell, said the same, foam in mouth and blade in hand. He came to Winter before, demanding they kneel to Wolf banner. He was no Kell of Kells, Craask and Crow will not be either. They are liars. Those who believe the war has been lost are fools and live in dishonor. Eliksni are survivors. Twilight has not yet come for the Houses and will not come until extinction. Winter still fights with claw and blade and rifle. Docked of their Prime, their Kell, their leaders, still they fight. House Winter will not surrender or fail even when a single Dreg wears its colors and the Ether no longer flows. The Vandal turns over a small machine in a lower hand. It is human, inoperable. She does not know its purpose or significance, but it is one of the few darlings she has kept so she holds it proudly. Static bursts from the radio resting beside her and she turns her head sharply, eyes narrowing. The device cannot bypass the Vanguard security overrides and only white noise can be heard, but the Vandal does not need to know what is being said. A Lightmonger is speaking, and it is close. Muscles tense in preparation as the Vandal carefully scans her surroundings. She is starved, with no Ether to spare, but she is strong even in this weakened state. The human trinket is stowed and her upper hands reach for the hilts of sheathed shock blades. The war against the City That Docks has not ended. Its ghouls still fight and so do the Eliksni of House Winter, even while those who are truly Fallen accept extinction and the words of dishonorable would-be-Kells. Gunfire echoes over the mountainside, sharp and clear. The Vandal leaps from her perch, rushing to the sound of battle. Defiant cries rise from the throats of the Vandal’s kin in the surrounding debris. The Eliksni of House Winter will fight with pride, honoring self and House.[/spoiler]

Any word on when the placements are announced yet?

Tokyo presents: Passion on the Tangled Shore. The story of a whirlwind romance between Zavala and a fallen Servitor.

Bracket: Experienced Title: Two Arms [spoiler][quote]"I am a marvel with ten thousand arms." There is a story, old as time, of he who could catch the stars. Unnamed and eternal, the star-catcher would lead the Fallen, rising from the lowest station to the highest exalted peaks.[/quote] That is the legend passed down amongst the Fallen - amongst the Dreg - to give all the hope that they may one day ascend from even the lowest of positions. I am Vasik, and I am a Vandal of House Wolves. “Foolish,” my mandibles clicked after growling out the rough Eliksni word. “You do not believe he will return to lead us?” My patient questioned, sitting in front of me with his only two arms raised up above his head because he was holding onto a bar. “Well…that is not what I said,” I rumbled my vague answer as I worked, bent over in front of the Dreg so that he had to look down at me, “I merely see that it is a hopeful legend, inspiring honor to earn back one’s arms.” The Dreg winced and released a pained hiss as one of the nerve connectors fired, and I had to grab him with my two lower hands to keep him still as I plucked at another wire with my upper right hand. My upper left was being used to adjust the position of the equipment I was working on so that I could get at the proper places. “But things change,” I acknowledged, removing my lower hands once I felt him grow still and using them to pull my data map closer so I could see, “Maybe one day we will have a Kell of Kells, or a Kell who has earned ten thousand arms.” The Dreg watched me in silence for a moment, and I felt the air grow heavy with his fear and sadness. “Will there be anyone left to lead?” All four of my hands stilled, and I tilted my head just a little so my four eyes could meet his. “There will,” I assured him, fully believing my words, “The Eliksni people are still of noble blood, though we were chased from our throne. We have survived everything, and we will survive this.” The Dreg’s skin rasped against the metal bar as he clenched his fists. “The un-people will die.” “Yes,” I agreed solemnly as I set back to work. We were in a Ketch, drifting through the asteroids and shipwrecks of the Reef in the Sol star system, as it was called by the locals. There were a number of Skiffs still with us, taking turns docking in the limited hangar space so that the rest of the Ketch’s crew and I could take account of their numbers and aid in any way we could. We were a pitiful piece of the Wolf Fleet. A pitiful fragment of what was left… The Baron had told only a few of us, but it was estimated that only around half of the House remained. But all could guess at the damage done. All knew that the Wolf Kell Virixas was dead. The un-people. The hollows. The Awoken, they called themselves, believing their minds to be of a higher understanding. Their Queen had laid us low mere hours ago. That witch and her little pet witches had washed our strength away with those nightmarish wounds in the sky. The Awoken, with their tiny fleet of scraps, had stopped the Wolves from reaching Earth to aid their brethren in the Final Attempt against the humans and their Last City. We were scattered amongst the rubble of the Reef, licking our wounds and regrouping. I’d heard the Baron call it that already: the Scatter. Soon we would be together again. Soon we would have a new Kell to lead the extermination of the Awoken. “Finished,” the word hissed out of my mouth with a satisfied sigh as I locked the mechanism into place and stepped back, making the Dreg jump a little in surprise as the connections all fired at once, “Move them.” He looked at me for a moment, unsure of himself, but then released the bar he was holding with his two arms and splayed them out to his sides. After some twitching, his new cybernetic lower arms rose up parallel to his upper arms. The movements were a little shaky at first, but the no-longer-Dreg managed to swing and flex all four arms around in unison. I blamed the equipment for the slowness to adjust; our resources were stretched thinner than ever, and our prosthetics were made of barely more than scraps now even compared to the meager leftovers from pre-Whirlwind that we had begun with in our long journey through the stars in pursuit of the Great Machine. “I feel…” he began, then faltered, and held up all four hands in front of his face to look at and compare them. “Like you still haven’t earned them back?” I finished for him. The way his two real hands clenched told me I hit the mark. “Many I restore say that. You have redeemed your honor, otherwise you would not be in my care.” The Captain who commanded this now-Vandal’s crew had handed me the order personally when they docked. There were many injuries being handled from their Skiff. It was thanks to this honest soul before me that they were hurt and not dead, so I was to rebuild him his arms. Unfortunately, he had been permanently docked, so mechanical arms were needed instead of simply removing docking caps. Earning arms after a permanent docking was extremely rare, but I was assured by the Captain that the docking had been under questionable pretenses. “Thank you,” the now-Vandal lowered his arms and tilted his head down in deference to me. “Go,” I motioned to the door to my workshop with one hand, picking up some tools with the other three to return them to their places, “We will see how many arms you have earned when our paths next cross.” “I suppose you would want to build all of them,” the now-Vandal joked, making for the door. Before I had a chance to laugh, the door slid open in response to my patient’s approach and revealed another Vandal waiting in the hall outside. He was larger than the two of us, composed of trained muscle and fed a ration of ether that spoke of the stature in our society he must have. My patient dropped his gaze before the cold stare of the newcomer, edging his way out the door and then walking away to reach the Ketch’s hangar. He would be welcomed back by his crew and receive Vandal armor there. I set my equipment down and stepped out of my workspace. After closing the door behind me, I steeled my nerves and looked the other Vandal in the eye. Shock Blades hung from his belt, his upper hands naturally resting on their hilts as if he expected to use them even now. Standing at his full height and keeping his chin tilted up boldly, the fire in his gaze told me he was not the most patient creature.[/spoiler] [b]FINISHED IN REPLIES[/b]

[Planet: Titan] [Name: Rulis] [House: None (Taniks owes allegiance to no House)] The broken Ketch shook violently, battered by the waves that ebbed and flowed along Titan’s rainy, oceanic, surface. Rulis staggered out of bed, normally Fallen would need Ether for survival, even when they slept. Yet Rulis was smart, he put on his ether respirator first thing as he got up. He was groggy, having barely slept the night before due to the ongoing rain and the fighting between the Hive and House Dusk. Stumbling across the cabin, he grabbed his armor and weaponry. He had made a full set of armor from the remains of the Ketch. He used a Shock Pistol and a Full Auto version of a Wire Rifle. ———————————————————————————————————— He opened the door and was greeted by an open expanse of sky. The rain fell down in immense droves yet that was no concern to him. Rulis donned his helmet and turned on his visor. The visor fed him with information regarding hostiles, the environment, and rare Golden Age Relics. He had found a relic weeks earlier in the lower regions of the Arcology and that was his first location to visit. He used the Light infused technology that he had gained from Mithrax to transmat his Pike to his side. He rode off towards the Arcology in search of the relics that lay within it’s watery depths. Once he arrived at the entrance to the Foyer of the Arcology he pulled out a Ghost of all things, the thing had a shell that was similar to Sepiks Prime, it was named Tajiks Delta or Delta for short. Rulis and Delta made their way to the Innovation sector of the Arcology, and there they found a Peak Golden Age CPU among other things. ———————————————————————————————————— “Over here, there’s something here!” Tajiks said. Rulis followed behind her and the two made their way into a Prototype Testing Facility. There they found more stuff from the Peak of the Golden Age. Things such as a Universal Translator, a Rocket Launcher labeled “Wardcliff Coil”, and a package of SIVA. Rulis picked up the Translator and the Launcher. He decided to take the SIVA with him, he never planned on going to Mars, it was dangerous there Hive and Guardians roamed the area, and then there was Rasputin. Going to Mars would be a death sentence but if Rulis wanted to prevent another SIVA Crisis then seeking Rasputins help would be the best option. “We’re going to Mars, we have to see Rasputin because I really do not want another SIVA Crisis to occur.” Rulis said. “Are you sure? I’m kind of worried about you to be honest, being the one of the first Eliksni Guardians and all.” Tajiks replied. “I know, yet I’m serious now, we’re going to Mars, that’s it, no going back, ok.” Rulis said. Just when Rulis had finished speaking, someone entered the room, it was Deputy Commander Sloane. Rulis didn’t even move a muscle before Sloane saw him. ———————————————————————————————————— Sloane aimed her shotgun at Rulis who just stood there, frozen still, paralyzed with fear. “Don’t shoot!” Tajiks said, blocking Sloane. “What the? Who are you? I had no idea that a Fallen could even become a Guardian.” Sloane said, shocked. “I’m Rulis, this is Delta, she’s my Ghost, we’re going to Mars with a package of SIVA.” Rulis said. “SIVA? What do you plan on doing with it?” Sloane said, suspicious. “We’re going to give it to Rasputin, that’s the safest bet, besides destroying it.” Tajiks decided to butt in on the conversation. Rulis and Delta went to their ship, The Evangelist, an old Fallen Skiff that was refurbished with the help of Mithrax. ———————————————————————————————————— The two set off for Mars with a package of SIVA in tow, they knew the stakes of what they were doing. They knew what they were risking, it was a gamble, what they were trying to do. ———————————————————————————————————— Yet still, what’s life without a little risk. I guess you can say that risk can sometimes lead to reward, and in other situations that risk will lead to a greater reward that what the normal route would have given. So take risks Guardians, this is Rulis signing off.

Expert Krandall carelessly walked in the Archon’s bathing ritual. He looked down at BronJeremy’s staff and admired the notches procured from slain companions. “What are you doing here Kran, you know we can’t be seen together” “Your blade needs sharpened and I’m the only vandal who can help you” “Krandall, do you mea-“ “Dock me daddy” They ensued in a forbidden love for the rest of the night. When they woke, two psions were at the foot of the bed, telepathically conversing and trying to figure out what they were looking at. Other psions listened in from off planet and devised a plan to end all Fallen relationships. They must crash the almighty into earth. ——- the prequel will be coming out soon——-

Here’s mine: Joey the hunter payed a guy $200 to carry him to the lighthouse. On game six the guy left and blocked him. Joey lost $200. Bungie made a great game with a flawless community.

[spoiler]Experienced Bracket[/spoiler] [b]War Is Over.[/b] [quote] "The Fallen Houses are gone. The siege is broken. The stalemate we’ve had with the Eliksni for what, a hundred years? It’s over. We won." ---Sub Commander Sloane.[/quote] [spoiler]The snow fell softly on a battered field. The ground here was bruised, broken from years of war between the Fallen Devils and the immortal guardians of the city. There a thin vandal sat, and there he mourned, not for the loss of a battle or the loss of a friend, but for the loss of his pride. All around Devils walked past him, heads bowed, too ashamed to look up at each other. This field had once seen countless battles, some victories and some defeats, but today it served another purpose.  The remaining Devils, in fact all Eliksni, were laying down their banners in defeat. The war to take the Great Machine had ended in failure. Oh, Chelchis! If he could only see their failure, how horrified would he be? A roaring bonfire stabbed the sky, pouring its putrid, metallic smoke into the air. Armor, rifles, gear, cloaks...banners. All were tossed into the purging flame. In that flame the mark that had shown itself on the battlefield time and again against the guardians was burnt away, leaving only a dusky ash. Grivrak, devil vandal, watched sadly as the House that had sustained him crumbled before his very eyes. The House of Devils had always stood. They had lost kells, they had lost Archons and Servitors, but still they had always tried once more to take the Great Machine back for their people. Grivrak's whole family had been devils. All his siblings, all his kin from the time of their hatching had bled and shed blood for the red banner. For that banner his parents had laid down their lives at The Final Attempt and for it most of his siblings had done the same in the Cosmodrome. That same banner now was burning on a heap. To Grivrak, this was nothing like the fall of Skolas, for that wolf was mad and his ambitions an heretical failure. The Devils though had always stood in the gap, proudly fighting their enemy. The Wolves hunted and schemed, Winter pirated, Exile rotted, and the Kings watched from behind the scenes when they could have turned the tide. But not the Devils, no the Devils had tried at the cost of their lives. He sucked in the sweet, cool ether through his mask as he watched the burning of a culture, the death of an age. Not since the Whirlwind had such a massacre of Eliksni identity occurred. He unhitched his helmet and let the warm glow of the bonfire flush his face. His breath leaked residual ether as he sighed aloud. As each dreg and captain reached the fire, they would stoop to deliver an Ireliis bow, in honor of the past they were leaving behind. Then their armor was thrust into the open furnace, twisting and turning the metal and cloth to dust. Grivrak's demeanor continued to drop. He was Eliksni, he was a hunter, not the prey. It pained him to see all his people's pride bleeding out right before him, and him having no way to staunch it. Exasperated, he stood up and raised all four arms to the sky as he shouted out at his fellow soldiers, his family. "Skas volasu. Lirsoveks...skas sloats! Eliksni ok drekh! Ok drekh! Meliksnisk! Nama mra!" [--Translation from Eliksni-- "You are lifeless! I don't believe it...you are prey! Eliksni not pups! Not pups! We are Eliksni! Not gentle!"] He pauses as dozens of quads of eyes fall on him, all unblinking in the cold. They seem lifeless, devoid of the will to fight. As soon as they hear him, they return back to the pile, and dump the soul of what they are into the ashes.  In this moment they cease to be Devils. Across the system Winters and Exiles, Wolves and Kings all fall under the dusk of defeat. No more Eliksni, these pirates have fallen yet again, this time even further into despondency.  "Lirsoveks…" ["I don't believe it…"] Grivrak slumps in the snow, utterly bewildered at the acts of his fellows. In his right hand he grips his battered red cape tightly. Nothing could cause him to part with this now, now it was a symbol of all he had fought for.  The blood red of his cloak was his pride, its jagged symbol his credo. Though others abandon the ways of the houses, he would stay true. For the measure of an Eliksni is their will to endure. Perhaps this was just another test of the Great Machine, a test for the worthy to eventually pass through and regain their hope. Maybe even one day they could rally once more, not for survival, but for noble purpose. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Behind the Vandal a large captain stalked, their armor clanking and cloak kicking up the ashen snow. "Nakemrak" ["Come here."] Grivrak turned to see the towering figure behind him. He immediately noted that this captain had not burned his gear as of yet, and what's more, his armor and marks clearly displayed him as a Splicer. He had no improvements or SIVA injections, but this fallen had obviously been a part of the cadre who had worked on it.  "Skas Eliksni, ok kelekh." ["You are Eliksni, not little one."] The massive captain's voice boomed from his helmet, sending snow off his own armor at the reverberations.  The captain held out his hand to the shivering vandal and spoke his simple, but potent words. "K variisis." ["Be unrelenting."] He passed the Vandal a canister of ether, perhaps a reward for showing faith in the house at a time where all else abandoned it. "Me skas ok ra nas." ["We are never without house."] For the first time in days the vandal felt a glimmer of hope. He knew he couldn't be the only one who would hold true to their identity, to the house that had stood in the gap for all Eliksni kind.  "Ne hus kin...Kell. " ["I will fight strongly...Kell."] In that moment Grivrak knew this captain would be his Kell, for he was the only one willing to take up that mantle. What the future held he did not know, but he was an Eliksni of House Devil, and if there was anything that they knew how to do, it was continue the fight.[/spoiler]

So this is an updated version of a scraped lore entry I was writing about a year ago, for a fan made exotic weapon. Hope you like. [spoiler]The Captain looked back at the reports. More the same. He leaned over the table and began to ponder. Just then the metal door opened behind him. “Who is it?” The Captain said aloud not looking back. “You Should know by now.” “Of course.” The Captain muttered under his breath. “I’m getting impatient Carviks.” The Captain turned to see Spider standing at the foot of the stairs. Three of the Spider’s Associates emerged from behind him and stood in a defensive stance in front of the Spider. Each one wielding an arc spear. The room was silent except for the low humming of the Arc energy flowing through the spears. “If this is about that ether shipment, I already told you it won’t happen!” Carviks said angrily. “Watch your tongue Carviks. Or my Associates might forget about you and your crew the next time the Scorn attack.” Carviks lowered his voice, “I’m not sending sending anything until that B[i]a[/i]stard Reksis Vahn is dead. I’ve lost too many good Servitors to him. I’m not risking anymore.” Spider nodded in agreement., “I see... Well you’ll be pleased to know that Reksis will no longer be an issue. “Don’t play games with me, Spider.” Spider laughs, “You know me too well. But believe me when I say he is dead.” “It’s going to take more then your word. I want proof.” “Ask and you shall receive.” Spider’s hands began to twitch uncontrollably. He quickly reached down and grabbed a ghost shell off his belt and started toying with it, causing the twitch in his hand to stop. Then one of his Associates stepped forward and dropped a large Flame Cauldron. It was in terrible condition, and mostly charred with dents and cracks everywhere. Carviks looked in astonishment. “So the Hangman really is dead.” Carviks walked down and knelt beside it. He then looked up at Spider. “Who’d you hire?” “I think it would be best if you didn’t know.” Spider responded. Carviks stood back up and thought for a moment. “You haven’t made any deals with those unkillable monsters, have you?” Spider began to nervously laugh off the question, “Come on Carviks, the last thing I’d do is attempt to hire a guardian.” “Expect three Servitors, filled with ether, arriving in the next day or so.” “Now that’s what I like to hear.” Spider said excitedly. Carviks turned and walked back towards the table. Before leaving Spider turned and waved his hand at Carviks. “Pleasure doing business with you.”[/spoiler]

Experienced Fallen They say that we are a horror story, a nightmare come true. We are not. We are a tragedy, a story full of loss that led to savagery. A once mighty race degenerated into backstabbing brutes. A disgrace.   This is why we are called Fallen, this is why I fight. To restore our status, to return our Great Machine to us. Maybe that makes me a fool, but I'd rather die a fool believing in something than a scholar believing in nothing. If it takes my life to wrench the Great Machine from humanities wretched claws, I will gladly give it.   They took everything, everything. So I endeavor to do the same.   The captain whose thoughts those were sat preparing for battle. They were going to assault the City, take back what they had lost.   His rusted armor and red cape told everyone around him that he was of House Devils. He would stand with his house and crash into their wall, grind it into pulp.   The signal went off and they dropped out of their Skiff onto a field. It was still wet with dew, the wall towered above them. Then it was chaos, fire and lightning rained down on them. His fellow Devils were sucked into black holes, this was the Light.   This was the power his people should have been given, not the filth he was killing now. They were making progress though, they had almost broken through the main defensive formation. Soon the City would be the battlefield, and the Great Machine would be theirs.   They would finally have proven themselves worthy of it, and then the Light would be theirs. He would have vengeance, he would have vindication. Then there was a bright flash.   There was now a hole in the wall, an entrance to the City! His ether tasted sweeter than ever.   Then as they began to push through the hole a group of titans blocked their way. They formed an impenetrable wall and blocked out way in. They glowed a bright orange like they were on fire. No, not on fire… they were fire.   Then his fellow Devils broke, and a retreat began. Not an orderly on, but a confused dash away from them. As he was swept away in the tide of his house members he felt loss. They had been defeated, on their supposed day of victory, they lay dead on the field.   At this he knew they were truly the Fallen.

I'd participate but I've already got a lot of story writing ideas of my own to do. So many worlds, so little time!

Welp, went on for longer than I thought. It ain’t gonna be as good as my other stuff either, since I didn’t use my normal format, but here ya go. Part 1/2 [spoiler] [b][i]First Encounter[/i][/b] _______________________________ The burning wreckages and tattered banners are all that’s left of a once proud Eliksni camp. Bodies of both Vandal and Dreg alike scatter the remains. There is no signs of life, save a lone scavenger, a rogue, a scoundrel. Hated by many and liked by few. He searches what is left of the camp for more to add to his riches. There is silence, yet he feels as if he is being watched. Four blue eyes pierce the darkness, stalking what they believe to be prey. They are wrong. A young Eliksni pounces at the man brandishing a small blade, only to be disarmed and thrown to the floor. Aiming a gun at the attacker, the man tilts his head. “A kid?” He mutters “Thought for sure those Guardy’s wiped the place clean, guess they missed a spot.” The Eliksni stares at him, before glancing over at a Wire Rifle. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you, ain’t gonna end well if you do.” The words freeze the young Vandal. He turns back to the scavenger who holsters his Hand Cannon before placing both hands on the front of his belt. The stranger speaks in Eliksni tongue “Say, you got a name?” There is silence once again, the Eliksni shakes his head. “Man, of all the places to hit, they choose a place with a kid? Always leaving me with the hard work, huh?” The man lowers to one knee, as he does so, the Vandal backs away slightly. He once again begins to talk in an understandable language “Easy there, bud. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Let’s give you a name, can’t go around calling you nothing now.” Almost furious, the Eliksni grabs a pipe and swings for the caped man. Light-thieves destroyed his home, killed his family, and now this one insults him with his kindness? The thoughts are cut short as the man manages to grab the pipe mid-swing, but he is not prepared for the fist that connects with the side of his helmet. The Eliksni crawls backwards into a corner, watching as the man’s posture changes. Rising to his feet, he feels the side of his helmet. As he does, what sounds to be static appears to come from him. He speaks, yet his voice is different, wrong “Nice one, kid. Shame too, I was gonna LET YOU LIVE!” He reaches for the child who is now frozen with fear. Before he can make contact, he halts. Almost as if paralyzed. He straitens his back before crouching down again, fidgeting with his arm pieces. “Sorry about that, kid. Recommend you don’t try anything risky, k?” His voice has returned to normal, and the sound of static can no longer be heard. “Now, lets give you name....let’s see, how about Umbra?” Mostly out of fear, and somewhat out of curiosity, the child nods. “Alrighty, then it’s settled.” He rises, then proceeds to walk away from the wreckage. Once he is far enough, he turns around to face the Eliksni, who hasn’t moved. “Well? Are ya coming or what?” Almost instantly, he jumps to his feet and chases after the strange man. [b][i]Three weeks after the first encounter[/i][/b] _______________________________ Umbra wakes in a joyful mood, today is the day Sahvoz will teach him how to fight. As he puts on his armour, he glances out the window above his bed. Trees take up most of the view, but he can see Sahvoz preparing a campfire outside of the ship, gathering logs. Umbra gathers his weapons, and attaches blades onto his lower arm’s wrists. They are dull as to not cause accidental damage. Before leaving the ship, he notices Sahvoz’s Ghost, Vetra, scanning some strange tech. “Damn Vex, why do they always make it so complicated?” She spots Umbra and turns to him quickly “Oh, you’re awake? Sahvoz is waiting outside for you, tell him that I need to talk to him too.” He nods, then leaves the ship. As he walks down the ramp, he sees Sahvoz inspecting a the frame of a Hand Cannon he did not have before. “What is that?” He struggles to pronounce the sentence. Sahvoz turns and quickly stows the gun away “Oh it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. So, you ready for training, kid?” Umbra nods, then remembers what Vetra said “Vetra want to talk...” Sahvoz is almost stunned “Hey, only a few weeks and you’re already picking up English?! Great work, kid! Let’s go see what she wants, ey?” As they enter the ship, Umbra notices that Vetra is still hovering above the strange tech. She notices them enter and turns to Sahvoz “I’ve almost managed to access this thing but I keep hitting a firewall, I can’t make sense of all this Vex gibberish.” Sahvoz is quick to reply “Give me a full display of it.” A screen appears in front of him full of strange symbols and shapes. Some familiar, most not. Sahvoz begins to interact with the display, touching certain symbols in unknown patterns. He takes a step back “Woah!” Vetra doesn’t hesitate “Are you ok, Voz?!” Sahvoz shakes his hand “I’m fine...V, we hit the jackpot! This thing came from a Vex Mind’s....well, mind!” Confusion floods Umbra’s mind. He has heard Sahvoz mention Vex many times, yet he has no clue what a Vex is. Before he can question the device, all three hear the noise of Sparrows approaching. “Guardy’s? Here? Umbra, go hide in the engine room!” Giving a slight nod, he rushes to the back of the ship. Lowering to the floor, he gains speed and traverses to the roof, where he can see outside via a small window. Three Light-thieves arrive on their vehicles, stopping before Sahvoz, who has his hand by his Hand Cannon. Umbra has seen this before, he recognizes that Sahvoz is ready to attack if needed. One of the Light-thieves gets off their vehicle, while the other two sit upright on theirs. Umbra could faintly hear the words spoken during the visit. “A single Guardian, all alone out in the wilds? You’d better be careful, it can be pretty...dangerous out here.” The other two Light-thieves appear to look at each other before chuckling slightly. Sahvoz glances at all three rapidly, the Light-thieves do not realize that he is inspecting them and their weaponry. Umbra has seen him do this before, the intruders will not last long now. Suddenly, the Light-thief on his feet lunges at Sahvoz, striking him down in one hit. He pins Sahvoz down while the other two laugh at the situation. Umbra feels a sense of dread as the Light-thief starts to beat Sahvoz on the ground. He looks around the room, eyeing a powerful Wire Rifle Sahvoz called the Queenbreaker. He hears one of the Light-thieves speak in a worried tone “Hey, d’ya hear that?” At this moment, Umbra hears the familiar sound of static. He watches the Light-thief attacking Sahvoz, he then sees a sight unlike any other. The Light-thief bursts into flames before burning away to nothing. Sahvoz rises, a burning gun of blue flame in his hand. Umbra could see the rage in his posture, he wasn’t going to let them leave now. Sahvoz raises his gun and fires at one of the Light-thieves, he burns to ash on the spot and his vehicle follows. The remaining Light-thief attempts to escape and dashes into the forrest. Sahvoz fires a round out of sight. There is silence, before a loud explosion. The Light-thieve’s machines appear in unison, ready to defy their death. With three final gunshots, the Light-thieves are no more. [b][i]Two months after first encounter [/i][/b] _______________________________ Umbra slowly circles his prey, using the shadows as cover. As he sees an opening, he pounces at his target, holding his blade at their throat. “Well done, kid. Now, try again.” Umbra lowers his blade, stepping back. “Very well.” He retreats to the darkness, slowing his movements to quiet his steps. Sahvoz appears to begin monologuing “See, Hunters need to rely on more than just sight and sound, only use those and you won’t stand a chance.” Umbra notices that Sahvoz is leaving himself open from all angles. “Hunters also need to learn from the past, learn how to not make the same mistake twice...” Umbra leaps from the darkness, but is shocked to see Sahvoz grab his leg “...learn to adapt!” He throws Umbra to the floor, before offering a hand up. “Never use the same trick twice on one person, they’re gonna see it coming.” Umbra accepts the help, letting Sahvoz bring him to his feet “I see...” Sahvoz places his hands on his hips and tilts his head “Say, how’s Vetra’s English classes coming along?” Umbra knows just how to reply “Better than your memory, old man.” Sahvoz locks eyes with Umbra, who feels a slight uneasiness within him “Har har, very funny. I’m going to be having a talk with her....anyway, you’re quite a fast learner, ain’t ya? Only a couple of months and you can say sentences? Great job, kiddo.”[/spoiler]

I'ma get destroyed but I'm in either way.

ok

Shame threads like this get downvoted.

I never really got into writing these things but I’ll give it a shot. :)

Shaxx is my dad

I don’t know shit about the Eliksni, so I’m probably going to sit this one out. Good luck to everybody who joins!

Eliksni! Yes, yes, I have a character I can expound on for this.

I’m not gonna be in this one still working on NDE, but I’ll definitely read the stories. Good luck

Can I enter this? My main characters is not an Eliksni, but it is the main theme and two supporting mains are Eliksni. Does that work?

Been awhile since I participated in a contest, this’ll be a fun one. I’ll be bringing back a character I know some of you have been asking to see again ;)

Eliksni eh? I got a new guy that I would like to use for this. I’ll post soon, okay.