It's day one. Your coronation, brief as it was, has been completed. You're already on your way outside the City's boundaries, ready to explore the great beyond. You unfold your last piece of gear and don your cape. The design was bright, beautiful, and beyond comparison to other works of tailoring. The family crest has never been on display more proudly than on you, Guardian. --- Three years have passed. You return to the City, as you have many times before, and work on your armor. Visors are replaced, gauntlets are repaired, and breastplates are polished so the dents and scratches are less noticeable. The ones around the heart, however, cannot seem to disappear. For many enemies have tried to take it. As the final touches are made on your gun's upgrades, a fellow Guardian runs up to greet you. Already from a glance you can tell he's a new recruit, with his shining new overcoat and helmet proudly on display. You let him join you and unfold your cloak for the next sortie. The emblem has faded from years of traveling desert sands, huge jungles, and icy landscapes. The edges have become frayed from mountain climbing, Fallen trying to hit a moving target, or from the Traveler's gifts that cause a sudden explosion of power. You look to the fresh Warlock and ask if he's ready to get his feet dirty. [spoiler]And then you forget that it's PvP. The Warlock kills you and desecrates your body with his ball-locks.[/spoiler]