Destcember Day 20: Where Is My Warmind

Destcember Day 23: Royalty

I've noticed that anyone who gives themselves a title of royalty, no matter their title or race, always seem to end of mad or dead. There are examples from every faction and species. The Eliksni have the Kells for royalty. As far as I know, they are all dead. Hopefully Variks and Mithrax will do better. The Cabal have have Emperor Calus, dethroned and probably more than a little mad, and Dominus Ghaul, dead at our hands. The Hive have the Osmium King, lost to the madness of the worms; King Oryx, Prince Crota, Prince Nokris, and the worm god Xol, all dead at our hands; and the worm god Akka, killed by their servant Oryx. The Vex have their pseudo-god the Black Heart, killed by us. Most of the Iron Lords have died horribly. The Hunter Vanguards have a terrible survival rate. Even the Awoken have had royalty follow the pattern, with Queen Mara Sov dying and Prince Uldren Sov both going mad and dying, though death seems to have been a bit more lenient for them. So, you should probably never take a title, as you are almost guaranteed to be a victim of madness, regicide, deicide, or some combination of the the three, probably by one of us guardians. Personally, I plan to follow my own advice and never get roped into ruling anyone.

I just realized, no one has told Jolyon that Uldren is alive again. Someone need to tell him right now. No, better idea, someone needs to find Jolyon, find Uldren, then drag them together and scream "Now Kiss!"

Destcember Day 1: Guardian and Ghost

I don't know what I'd do without her. Well, I'd die obviously. But it's not just that. Ever since she revived me, she has been my constant companion and friend. When I woke up, terrified and without even a memory to call my own, Yew was there to reassure me and explain what was happening. Every time a well placed shot or an ill timed jump sends me to my death, she is there to bring me back. Whenever the whispers of worms or dragons get too loud, she is there, telling me that they have no power if I don't give it to them. Even as I fight and die to protect those I care for, both in the City and in the Reef, she is the one who protects me. And I will do my best to protect to protect her, for as long as my Light still shines and I still have a single thread of life left in me.

Destcember Day 2: The Last City

I don't get to go home often recently, with all my time being split between helping Petra keep the Dreaming City from falling to the Taken or Scorn and trying to track down the Scourge Syndicate and their stolen weapons. When I do get a chance to take a break, I have an apartment deep in the Last City. A lot of guardians prefer to live in the Tower, but living up there has never appealed to me. Too much Vanguard supervision, asking hard questions and giving me sceptical looks when I come back with a new set of Hive tomes or Ahamkara bones to study or a few tanks of either for my Eliksni friends. The citizens though, they don't ask questions or give looks, just chalking it up to the eccentricities of a guardian. They never mention the whispers from the bones inside my silver plated cases, no matter how loud they seem to me. I find it reassuring to see so many people happily going about their lives, even when everything seems like it's all going to hell outside the walls. I don't agree with Zavala on many things, but at least we agree on this. This city is my home and its people are worth protecting.

Destcember Day #10: The Big Bag Theory

"What is taking so long? I just asked you to get me a gun out of my bag and it's been like five minutes" asks a warlock as he rounds to face his friend. The friend in question sits waist deep in a pile of guns, synths, and assorted items, looking both annoyed and confused as they begin to speak.

"How are you doing this? I have been shaking this bag for the last four minutes straight and it never stops spitting out garbage. Is it bottomless or something? Does it contain a portal to the guns and garbage dimension?"

"Oh yeah, it's that bag. Well I have two theories. The first I like to call the Big Bag Theory. I think that I have used so much magic around that bag that some has seeped into its very being over time. It just kept concentrating until it created a pocket dimension with everything I have ever put in contained. No matter how much you take out, there will always be more. Haven't you noticed that some of the things you have pulled out are duplicates of things that you already took out? It must be locked in a quantum state where everything inside both exists and doesn't until you take it out, making it technically limitless."

"Wow, really?"

"Alternatively, I could have told Yew to hide in there and keep transmatting random junk from my vault in as you emptied it out. You know, just to fuck with you. But isn't the magic bag theory more fun?"

The titan glowers at their friend as muffled laughter can be heard from the inside of the very much mundane bag.

Do the Offering to the Oracle First This Week

Hopefully no spoilers, but seriously, it's super important to the story. Don't put it off, you'll want to see it.

Fireteam member, helping to drag a heavily traqulized Royal Beast back from the Pleasure Gardens to my ship:

"So why are we doing this? It would have been easier just to kill it and take the loot"

My Warlock:

"I need it for... ... ... psionics research."

*whispering to the dog* "Good boy. New Pet."

Destcember Day 5: Black and White

So many guardians see our fight against our enemies in black and white. We are the heroes, dauntless knights fighting endlessly against the forces of evil, who long only to destroy us solely for the furtherment of evil. But things are never that simple. Every one of our enemies has their own stories and reasons to take up arms against us. The Cabal who so recently destroyed us are merely foot soldiers in a vast empire, knowing not why they attack, just following the orders that were passed down to them from a chain of command that they have no authority to even question. The Vex are fighting against the inevitable, for ever trying to stave of the heat death of the universe, warping time, space, and causality in service to their salvation, their "Pattern". The Fallen are lost nomads, with no home to call their own, their homeworld destroyed by the Darkness that we fight so hard against. Now they chase after their Great Machine, hoping, just like us, for the chance to reclaim their golden age. The Scorn have been corrupted by a force greater than them, using the Darkness in an attempt to free themselves from their dependence on Either and Servitors and to bring back those they lose to the deaths that we so often inflict upon them. The Hive and Taken, servants of the very Darkness itself, have their reasons as well. The Hive are slaves of their own free will, eternally killing and destroying to feed their worms, lest they be consumed themselves. They only chose this path for themselves after being in dire straits, with their choices being to take the worms into themselves and serve the Worm Gods, or have their species wiped out by an approaching disaster. Now they fight to survive, to bring the universe to its "final shape" and live forever by becoming death. The Taken, perhaps most pitiful of all, have no will of their own, being puppets to a will greater than their own, often being forced to fight against their former allies and kill those they once called friend. Even the Darkness may have a reason for their actions, though even I doubt that. To each of them we are the boogeymen, immortal monsters that can slaughter their way through hundreds of valiant warriors, with terrible powers of scorching light and weapons that have been known to kill even gods, before dying, only to return seconds later as if nothing ever happened. So, next time you begin to think in black and white, consider what I have said today and what your enemies think of you.

Having just listened to the allegiance quest audio logs, I have decided two things:

1. The Drifter is too pragmatic for his own good after years of hardship and betrayal

2. The optimal solution to part 1 is some friends who won't die/betray him/try to kill him and a group hug.

So, join us. Side with the Drifter. Hug the Drifter. Prove that it's ok to hope.

If Guardians still play baseball, I guarantee you that someone has accidentally thrown their Ghost instead of the ball. I'm not sure how or why it happened, but I am completely that it has.