[spoiler]Disclaimer: This post is Fanficiton, which is allowed in #Lore as declared by dmg04, link here: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/249545832?sort=0&page=0&path=1. You are well within your rights to instantly downvote, but there are a few things I would like to state first: 1) If you wish to no longer see any of my posts, please block the tags #Fanfiction or #ringer7. By doing so you will never again see any Fanfiction from me in the future. You can also simply mute my profile if that’s prefered although I am #lore Titan Vanguard so you may miss some lore. 2) Downvotes, based on friends' and my observations over the last few weeks, actually help keep a post in trending as they count as engagement. Cheers![/spoiler] "We were fools, o children of the Whirlwind. We fought each other when we most needed unity." -- Skolas, a rabid dog. [i]He saw the land stretch before him, vast, reaching for the birds in the horizon. He saw from his mountain perch a plain of pure white. It reminded him of purity, of purpose. Ah, but the air, that was the greatest thing about the mountain. It was cold and yet warmed him. It was still and yet could form a hurricane faster than one could take their last breath. It was his constant companion, yet it reminded him that he was alone. And what peace that last thought gave him. He stopped rummaging through the remains of a singed walker long enough to see the horizon. There were birds on the horizon, but these were made of metal.[/i] *** The first ship was a wicked Ketch named [i]Whirlwind's Sorrow[/i]. It's prow cut a swath through the dense clouds like some giant knife cutting bread and cheese. Aboard this ship a massive Fallen watched the mountains rise in front of him. He searched for the name of these mountains in his corrupt mind. Himalayas, yes that was their name. A pathetic name it was, and in a pathetic language. The language of humanity. The Fallen was Thelksis, the Last Devil, the only one remaining of the old houses. He had been of invaluable use during the siege of the City and even greater during Aksis' ascension to machine-hood. But his Kell had been burst open and his Archon had been unmade. What left to him was there if not his House, a House of Devils? *** Not a few miles behind the first ship was a second Ketch. The captain of this ship was a stranger to its bridge. Its workings were all but a mystery to him. His name was Ringer-7, a Titan of the last of Humanity. And his way was war. His commandeered Ketch was gaining on the Devil's ship but he held back lest the Fallen discover he was on their trail. He looked to his Ghost, Stedi, as he steered the ship. "Picking anything up on the scanners?" Stedi swung around to face the Intel panel of the ship's systems. "Nothing besides a few faint life signs. Probably just a few wolves or something." " I doubt if anything would survive out here. The wind itself seems to want to kill us. " Suddenly Stedi saw the blip for the Fallen's Ketch grind to a halt. They were stoping. "Ring, come look at this!" Ringer looked over his shoulder at the Ghost, "What's wrong?" "The Ketch, it's stopping!" The Fallen Ketch ground to a halt near the top of a high mountain, sending a deep shadow over the peaks. The smoke from its exhausts blotted out the details of the surrounding landscape; ironically, because of their smog, the Devils were unaware as the Titan's Ketch inched closer. *** [i]A man with the air of the Mountain itself watched calmly as the Ketch descended to the mountain's cliffs. He watched as the scuttling insects landed on firm ground,[/i] [b]his[/b][i] ground. He shook his head disparagingly. When would these thieves learn to stay off of his mountain? Unslinging what seemed to be some sort of crossbow from his back, the mysterious man answered his own question. They would learn when they were dead. Pulling a worn and heavy scarf around his face to keep out the cold, the man headed towards the Fallen landing site. On either side of his path lay the carnage of a hundred battles. To his left the skeletal remains of a Captain glistened in the bright winter snow. At his right hand a Fallen Skiff was sunken half length into the snow, what remained above the snow was charred by some powerful energy. The Will of the Mountain approached the Fallen thieves, and justice was in his hand, right where his weapon was.[/i] *** Ringer-7's Ketch floated just above the [i]Whirlwhind's Sorrow[/i]. The Titan put on his armor as Stedi prepared to launch boarding anchors. He hung his sword on his side and threw his rifle over his shoulder. Both had seen more death in their time than had Ringer himself. Weapons ready, Ringer swung his heavy black, fur cape around and over his shoulders. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" Ringer said as an aside to his faithful companion. " I'm right behind you, Ring. I always am. " With these words, Stedi sent the anchors screaming into the [i]Sorrow's[/i] hull. Fire spurt from the Ketch like ether from a wound as the metal harpoon dug into the ship. Ringer yanked his Mark off his waist and slung it over the harpoon line. With a mighty shove, the Titan sent himself charging into the Fallen Ketch. As he swooped through the puncture hole, a vandal appeared brandishing his blades. Briefly the vandal felt a bolt of pain in his jaw as the guardian's knee connected with him. A moment later the vandal's limp corpse broke through the wall of the ship, falling and burying itself in the deep white snow far below. Ringer patched in his ground support: Erica Lockhart, a cryptarch of the City. Static rang on the line, then he heard her voice. "Can you hear me, Ringer?" " Loud and clear, Erica. I've made my way inside the Ketch. Which way to the bridge? " "Where in the ship are you? What can you see?" A dreg poked its head around a corner as the two talked. The Titan sighted it, drew his piece, and fired in one swift motion, leaving it dead on the floor. "There's pipes, good sized ones. They seem to have symbols leading up one way and down the other." On her end, Erica was grinning at the sound of the gunfight. She understood why Petra loved field correspondence. "Head down the lower path. But expect resistanc. If they follow older Devil defense strategies than they'll likely be waiting just around the bend." Stedi answered for her guardian as Ringer started backing up. "We understand. Stand by." A steady, blue glow surrounded the Titan as he began running for the hallway corner. Wisps of arc light streaked past him as he rushed onward. As he neared the turn, he let one leg shift, sending him at angle around the corner. Once around the bend he used both legs to vault himself bodily at the nearest foe, a captain of the Fallen. His fist connected with the monster's ether breather and broke straight through it. The captain's shocked face disintegrated as lighting shot throughout his whole frame. Electricity sprung from the dust of the killed captain and chained on to the nearest dregs and vandals; as the arc hit them they to shriveled up and blew away. Ether floated out from the captain's broken breather as Ringer advanced through the line of Fallen. As the guardian moved forward, however, he didn't notice a small, docked thing as it approached the shattered ether-mask. It took a glance around to be sure nothing saw him, then it stuck the mask greedily over its face and sucked what life essence was left from it. Ririksis the dreg proceeded to watch the guardian from a distance. Waiting. Observing. [i]This[/i], he thought, could be profitable. *** [i]The Will of the Mountain walked silently towards the Fallen encampment. Three skiffs were docked in the rocky cleft while the crews were assembling their pikes and equipment for scavenging. There were no watchers on guard, and why should there be? There was nothing on this forsaken mountaintop besides broken machines ripe for the plundering. But they were wrong. This massive pile of rocks belonged to someone. And that someone was very, very jealous of it. The man brought his muffler away from his face as he brought his weapon up to his eye. He took a long look at the insects scurrying around the broken vehicles from past battles. He was waiting for something. Perhaps he was waiting to see what they would do, if they would simply move on. Then he saw a vandal grab the withered and frozen skeleton of a human being. It lifted the skeleton in the air by the arms, chattering excitedly. Suddenly it proceeded to rip the arms off the skeleton, docking a dead thing as it had seen its Kell do to many a pathetic dreg. It raised its head to cry out some sort of macabre joke when all of a sudden his life left him. The man lowered his gun and watched as chaos ensued. Another vandal who had been watching cried out in fear and warning. It pointed madly at the man just beyond their camp's borders. Needless of the shots fired at him, the man strode calmly towards the insect mound. A ghost appeared at his side, pointy and weathered. It had a sorrowful look to it but it was not unkind. It looked at its Risen with a questioning look to which the man responded with a simple nod. The ghost landed softly in the lightbearer's hand and closed its eye. As soon as the ghost was in his hand the man chucked it at the mass of Fallen ahead of him. The little light seemed to hang in the air for a moment before it hit the ground with an odd bang. From its shell came forth a burst of the Traveller's light which blinded the Fallen thieves to the wrath of the Mountain. They never had so much as a chance. [/i] ~Continued below ~