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originally posted in:The Black Garden
Edited by Aleroth Aloki: 7/15/2013 2:13:33 PM
268

Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us writers to take center stage for a time. The Black Garden as well as our friends over in Arts and Stuff are going to host a contest that is solely devoted to writers. The rules are simple. For any who wish to enter, you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 words. The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above. The deadline for entering is this Sunday(14th) at midnight. For any who wish to enter, please submit your stories by placing them in the comments. Judging will be done in two phases. The first phase will consist of a Panel of both groups reading over each story and deciding which seven are the best of the best. Once the first stage is complete, we shall hand it over to you, the audience, to decide who is ranked number one as lore master. The Winner of this contest shall receive a print of the Buried City signed by the Destiny writing team. Good luck and Be Brave.

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  • --AGENT FIELD SALVAGE REPORT-- OR: [rehab status/ident. restricted] DEST: Mars Lib, Bastion Command REF: Section 0000819, audiolog [filed under unconfirmed, per rehab stat regs] --- Sector contains ruins; an old filling and shuttle station. The surrounding area could’ve been a commercial district back when, I guess. Some of the outlying structures look about to collapse, but I stood a while and peeked in the shop windows. Can’t believe some of the stuff people used to wear. You never told me it might be occupied. No signs of Cabal presence anywhere in the vicinity, but there was some weird stuff down there, some weird living stuff. Just heading down the station steps gave me the worst migraine, and I could swear I was seeing things. In the dark, they almost looked like people, but the fingers were too long. I got one good look at a face before they jumped me, and there wasn’t much face to speak of. Something down there kept popping into my head, so I got out. No sweep of the area, so file this wherever you like. Whatever they are, the Cabal showed up right as I hit the surface, and I barely made it out. Tell me you’ve heard of these things, and just decided not to mention them. Because that’s the sort of thing I expect from you, but what I don’t expect is to be mobbed by telepathic zombies in a sandy, old filling station. I might as well tell you now that I’m done. That’s the last time I put myself in the fire for you, so don’t come looking for me, and don’t call me unless the Fallen come knocking on your front door. --- [Return contact suggested, though difficult. Known areas of operation attached, but use caution when approaching.]

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  • Edited by SeanShmit: 7/14/2013 4:00:42 PM
    The orange waves of sand gently brushed upon the ruins. It’s silent now, the people are gone, and the buildings but a reflection of the horrors this planet has endured. From the distance, a Titan by the name of Ishkander appeared. While his Pike slowly came to a stop, he looked down on the rust covered walkways and then up towards the crumbling skyscrapers and shook his head. “Where’d it all go?” he thought “Where’d we go wrong?” The titan slowly made his trek down the sand dune he was perched upon and entered the ruins with his shotgun ready. As he stepped into the city, a light caught his eye. A hallway, barely lit, yet a sign that perhaps this city wasn’t abandoned after all. Ishkander slowly advanced towards the light, with a hope in his heart that maybe, just maybe, he could find out what happened here. Those hopes were short lived; as he stepped into the dim light a shadow rose up from behind him. A cabal on patrol snuck in and blocked the only exit. It didn’t speak, the cabal went straight to his rifle’s holster, but was too late; Ishkander had already fired a shotgun shell towards the cabal’s neck. The gunshot rang throughout the ruins and the ground started to shake, cabal started rising up through the ground like weeds, agitated to be awoken from their slumber. The titan made his way with a burst of speed and a flash of his shotgun through the ruins returning to the sand dune where he started. Ishkander mounted his Pike before he was overrun and sped out of there, unsatisfied he wasn’t able to explore that hallway, but hopeful because someday soon, he’ll come back, and this time, he’ll be ready. (For those who do not see the dim light it is in the bottom right of the picture, in what looks like a small hallway to me. Anecdote is 295 words)

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  • Edited by Falderal: 7/14/2013 10:29:39 PM
    thought i would show up, my other story is almost done. [b]Quality of Mercy[/b] [i] The drop ship shattered against the fierce winds of the Martian desert. The light above my fireteam flickered on, turning red. The drop would commence in ten seconds. Out of my little window i saw the faint outline of a city. One both buried and destroyed by this sand. The light transitioned to yellow, 5 seconds. I made my way to the end of the drop ship just as the ramp began to fall. I checked to make sure i was ready to drop, I never finished. Everything behind me was suddenly engulfed in flames and i was thrown out of the poor little ship. I caught once last glance at the thing before it suddenly erupted again and was no more. I used tried using bit of space magic to slow my perilous decent into the city below. But i hit the ground hard and everything around me seemed to fade. I woke up sometime later. My shoulder was throbbing and my vision was blurred. The space magic worked, sort of. I was still alive, and now i needed to find a way out of here. The objective no longer mattered, I was all alone. And the jungle does not treat the lone wolf well. As i got up i noticed the sand was whipping around the city, and more importantly around something standing in the street. I walked through a courtyard towards the figure. Whatever it was, it turned towards me, beckoning me forward. And i listened. Just before i reached the figure, my legs gave out, I collapsed into the sand. I heard a voice, it simply said "Rest guardian, you are in the care of friends." I was more than happy to oblige the voice. And she was more than happy to help me rest...[/i] Exactly 299 words. anyways i hope you guys enjoyed my short story.

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    • Another cold Thursday afternoon, the martian dust thick like clay, continued to form within the worn out boots of our noble hero, as he stumbles towards the dilapidated apartment complex. His vision blurred from the copious amounts of liquor consumed hours prior, a vague yet familiar silhouette appears before him. "If you think you're comin' in era for the night you got another thing coming mate" Said the Landlord, a repulsive Alien beast, welding what appeared to be the futuristic equivalent of a modern day wrench. Which oddly enough looks exactly the same as it does today. "You ere anit been paying my rent, wheres me moolah!" Although repulsive, our Noble Hero refreshed and revitalized from his afternoon lap dances at the Xeno-Bar stood firm in the face of his old arch nemesis. "We Humans once ruled this world, how dare you continue to extort me you colonist pig!" The Landlord lunged forward without hesitation, his futuristic wrench held high above his grotesque and obscenely large head. His large mass however was no match for the speed and agility of our noble hero who until sober would have the misconception of increased agility and strength, manages to duck the attempted blow to his head before climbing up on to the back of his Landlord, wrapping both arms tightly around his neck. Swaying side to side in anger and frustration, the landlords attempts to throw our noble hero off were futile. The sheer exhaustion of physical activity soon brought the filthy beast down, into a cloud of martian sand as his large stomach hit the surface. And so our Noble Hero continued his way home, for no Alien of this universe will ever deny the triumph of man. It is our path, our birthright, and our Destiny.

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    • Reclamation rings out with every shot. Little by little, with the delicacy of an archeologist’s brush we take back our city, our rifles lining the ridges. The sand puffs delicately into the air to fall another day with every pull of my trigger. My team, though, fires with a purpose aiming for those that will fall today, must fall today – or we will fall tomorrow. Soldering and cementing our inevitable victory in this glass furnace we press forward from the ridge. Raw and red, the ground blisters in the heat and it will only get worse for those who enter this crucible. We churn them and burn them. Our will alone forces them to abscond; snatching the lives they owe us as they scurry back from the dunes. For centuries these sands have been red with our blood, baked into the walls that rise as a backdrop to our conquest, but the mortar that sustains us is one of desperation. We burn bright, fused as one, and it is our undoing. Fireteam - they call us a fireteam for we are that volatile element that gives life and takes it away. Today we do no more than take it from all. As the sand shifts their tide turns. Our inevitable rise has been too fast and down we slip, sliding on the blood we have spilt. We have eaten through the fuel that sustains us where once we walked with impunity. Down into the desolation we have stridden only to find our demise. Our guns fall silent as they sputter and choke to a stop. The kiln is quiet before the door shuts on us, yet we know it will be glorious and golden for we are a fireteam and it is here that we were made Legend.

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    • The massive ruins, buried in swaths of orange, served as Aleka’s favorite location. She managed to escape the bunker, humanities last, infinitesimal bastion on Mars. Aleka’s parents cautioned her to remain within the bunker, away from the hostiles roaming the wastes. A higher calling perpetually stirred Aleka from the bleak existence of bunker life. She returned every week to the same spot, the Buried City. Its momentous history, forever preserved, submerged in sand, increased its hold on Aleka every time she exposed new relics confirming humanity’s apex. Aleka wondered amongst the decrepit ruins, a once dazzling center of humanity. Red-orange particles whirled past her tiny figure as she crept up warped, metallic stairs. A fusion of cloth and metal cloaked the small eight-year-old, protecting her from the harsh grains of sand. A sprinkle of sand produced several clicks against the translucent visor protecting Aleka’s face. Sunlight washed over the visor creating a vibrant glare. The girl’s olive skin was scarcely visible under reflective sheen, muddled further by dark locks. As Aleka beamed upon the ruins, a crash erupted from a proximal building. Several hulking silhouettes emerged from a breached wall, massive armaments focused on Aleka. Two snaps reverberated past Aleka as the behemoth Cabal barreled toward her. An instant past and two Cabal faltered, sending up puffs of orange. Raising its shield, the last Cabal charged on. Aleka froze for imminent impact. Imperceptibly, a Hunter materialized from Aleka’s periphery. Her body flew down the stairs. “Run girl!” The hunter growled. Recovering, Aleka glanced upon the Cabal and Hunter, both sprawled out. Numerous silhouettes dotted the ruins. Aleka sprinted from the ruins. Gunfire echoed behind her. The Buried City, humanities ancient greatness, and the Hunter eclipsed her cognizance; her mind raced to one thought [i]I’m going to be a Guardian[/i].

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    • [quote]Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us writers to take center stage for a time. The Black Garden as well as our friends over in Arts and Stuff are going to host a contest that is solely devoted to writers. The rules are simple. For any who wish to enter, you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 words. The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above. The deadline for entering is this Sunday at midnight. For any who wish to enter, please submit your stories by placing them in the comments. Judging will be done in two phases. The first phase will consist of a Panel of both groups reading over each story and deciding which seven are the best of the best. Once the first stage is complete, we shall hand it over to you, the audience, to decide who is ranked number one as lore master. The Winner of this contest shall receive a print of the Buried City signed by the Destiny writing team. Good luck and Be Brave.[/quote] Sorry I only right chapters there's no way I could go under 300 words I mean I use 300 just for the first half of the backstory or the setting if you wish if you decide to make a contest where it's more let me know ill define rely participate

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      • Edited by TurboDew: 7/14/2013 6:27:51 AM
        Finally he arrived at his destination. A place he had only heard stories about as a kid. A glorious city on Mars. How generations past started to colonize this once unobtainable land? But that was ages ago. Now he stood in a desolate and foreboding landscape. He was here for answers. What happen those many years ago? Why did they abandoned such a technologic marvel as colonizing another planet? What were the aliens after that would cause them to all but wipe out the entire human race? What treasures lie in wait? It’s his sworn duty as a guardian to find the answers to these questions. And maybe, just maybe, he would find a clue as to how to turn the tide against these abominations. Titan they called him, brute force of the Guardians. The great wall builders. It was with their might they built the wall of the last safe city. And with the help of the Traveler, they have protected the city. But he was here to do more. No longer could the Guardians idly stand by. It was time for answers. As he started in the rest of his fire team joined him. A Hunter, stealthy and dangerous; and a Warlock, who can harness the powers of the Traveler better than most. With his fire team at hand, who could stand in his way? Who could have been a match for such might enhanced by the Traveler? They were here for rediscovery. And there weren’t leaving until they got what they came for. An uneasy calmness was about them. Sure the enemy was strong, and sure they only numbered three. But they had each other. Each one a hero in their own way. Bravely they walked towards the structure to find their past, their future, their destiny.

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      • Edited by Ajax: 7/15/2013 1:13:16 AM
        I struggled to pull myself up from the ground. I glance upward for a moment, throwing up my hand to block the sun. Around 50 feet. That was how far I had tumbled down the sand dune. One little slip of the foot sent me over the edge. I had been too tired to even care as I fell down. The heat is unbearable. Had I known the desert would be this bad, I might have prepared more. Then again, I hadn’t expected for my pike to break down 20 clicks into the trip. I remember glancing to my six, double taking, and seeing a particle beam spread from the bottom of an uncloaking fallen cruiser, only giving me long enough to dive off of my pike watch my team burn alive. We were supposed to be the elites. We were the Vanguard, the Vanguard never dies. They just keep fighting. I guess I had never realized the lie that that statement was until my team died. As I regained my orientation at the bottom of the dune, I felt a throbbing coming from my abdomen. A shard of metal is sticking out of my side. It must have impaled me as I rolled down. [i]Wait. Metal in the middle of the desert?[/i] Hopeful, I scale the next dune. The words [b]ATLANTIS STATION[/b] read across a tunnel entrance. I had arrived. The mission was a full assault on the Fallen camp stationed within the old subway. As I make my way into the square, I see a group of fallen camping out. A slight grin crosses my face. I silently slip onto the 3rd floor of a building and set up my rifle. Peering into my scope as I lie down, I slide my finger onto the trigger. [b] CRACK [/b]

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      • Edited by TungstenSoldier: 7/14/2013 6:48:58 AM
        At the pinnacle of human achievement, man's expansion across the solar system was both a utopian period but also a complacent one. With the primary colonizations being on Earth and Mars, the smaller colonies on the other planets were rarely informed of the events on the two other planets...except in the case of need-to-know developments and emergencies. So great was their complacency, they were completely oblivious and unprepared for what was about to happen. Man would face a fall so devastating they would be driven to a state of primitive existence and survival. After a period of relative silence, and whether motivated by fear, prudence, or both, the smaller colonies organized an investigative team to assess the situation on Earth. They were about to awaken to a nightmare of contrasting proportions to their golden age of slumber. Upon their arrival, they discovered a spherical structure hovering above the Earth. As mysterious and unsettling its presence was, they knew their immediate attention was needed on the planet. They set their destination to the only standing city left on the planet. It was at this point, the gravity of the situation began to set in. A city protected and fortified held the remnants of Earth's population. Investigative analyses and eyewitness accounts of massive land tides caused by a Mars near pass-by left more questions than answers. Why were they unable to foresee the event? Did these aliens and the mysterious sphere know this would happen? And after all these years, these questions have brought them to the ruins of an ancient city on the planet Mars. Destiny would prove to be an ambivalent mistress. For in these ruins, they would discover research of a model based on the cyclic occurrences of Earth/Mars near pass-bys...the data would reveal that the planets are on the cusp of another event.

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      • When the Dust Settled: As the wind blows on this fateful Martian day, I see individual grains of sand fly by my head as I look out into the deserted city that was once teeming with life. Humanity once had a name for this city, but that too was lost to the conflict. This metropolis has been through hell and is currently fighting a new enemy, nature. What Humanity has claimed for more than a century is being reclaimed by its rightful owner... The sound of the wind is becoming more intense by the second... But, I continue to press on. I come to halt as I see a blurred figure on the ground. I move in closer for a better look and I recognize the beast to be a Cabalt. The monstrosity has multiply gun shot wounds to the upper torso and is moaning in extreme pain. The behemoth turns his neck ever so slightly and looks directly at me... I sadly look at him and take pity on the creature as I pull out my rifle... One shot is all that it took, clean right through the head. As, the sound recedes into the dunes the wind starts to engulf the surrounding area. I take refuge in a run down factory and use the supplies I scavenged off of the Cabalt to make a decent camp site. As I rest my head, all I can think of is the role I will play to Humanity and especially the Traveler. I wake to footsteps right outside the factory. I assume they wanted revenge for their fallen comrade. At that moment when I stepped outside to the greetings arms of my enemy. I know for a fact, as I unsheathe my blade, all hell was about to break loose...

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      • Greedy Guardian “Look at it… Nothing... It’s all gone.” Kaden said in a quiet whisper as he kicked a cloud of rusted sand into the air, watching it drift slowly and steadily into the streets of the once metropolis, but now just a buried dead corpse of a city, covered in orange-brown sand and debris. The two Guardians watched as the cloud dissipated upon the frosty wall of one of the buildings three clicks north of their position. “It’s quite sad really,” Hannah said, breaking the eerie silence as she zoomed in on her rifle’s scope to get a better view of any Cabal stragglers. “I’ve read stories about this place and how the children would use sleds to slide down the slopes of sand dunes around the perimeter of the city. How they laughed and had no worries at all about survival or the threat of losing home.” Kaden looked at her deeply, feeling a sarcastic tear begin to form. “It’s clear.” “Well you know,” Kaden began, “we could relive those days.” Suddenly Kaden screamed “Space Magic!” and conjured an energy shield, jumped upon, and began carving his way down the slope. Hannah watched in amazement as he just left a Hunter to scale her way down. “Whoooo!” Kaden exclaimed, gaining more and more momentum. All of a sudden, down at the base a poof of smoke erupted into the air. “Well, better get down there.” Hannah sighed and slumped her shoulders. She began scaling down as an avalanche of red sand followed, trying to bury her feet and force its way into her boots. Finally she arrived at the base, lifted her long-rifle over her shoulder, and crouched over a body lying with its body buried up to the neck. “A little help?” “Nope, I’m taking all the loot.”

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      • Edited by Ben Cerinus: 7/13/2013 2:18:09 AM
        In the Buried City, silent and lifeless as it had been since history forgot its name, a lone figure haunted its sand choked streets for the first time in many years. The figure was a warlock. Cloaked in a dusty red trench coat and a rounded metal helmet that concealed his face, his expression of an unspeakable lack of fulfilment. The Cabal had made his journey to the lost Buried City a kind of trial that could have been the thirteenth labour of Hercules that even a demigod could not complete. His squad mates, his friends, were lost to those relentless, fury-driven meat grinders. He was left with three bullets for his revolver - not enough. And after all of this not even the bones of the forgotten were there to greet him. The warlock raised one hand to the sky, fingers spread. Immediately what looked like a red rust materialised on his hand, then down his arm, then on his shoulder, upper body and so on until his entire form was shaded in red. He chuckled to himself; he wasn't quite dead yet and still the red sands of the buried city was trying to bury him. His chuckle soon turned to coughing - even dying breath needs some water it seemed. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees. His legs had given way and now his raised hand was limp by his side. He allowed himself to fall forth but made a sharp turn of his body and fell on his back. The Buried city began to swallow him whole - slowly. He looked one last time at the sun, it once warmed him but now it only irradiated a chilling cold. Closing his eyes one last time he let out a great exhalation. And the Buried City welcomed its new inhabitant with a great embrace.

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        • He returned back to his favorite place to sit and ponder over the days events to find it infested with cabal. He completely wiped the building of them with his pistol and magic. Once he knew he was alone he thought to himself the past few days events... His friends...most of them...killed, he was all alone like he used to be. Never had he felt so cold despite being in a warm climate. He knew soon that more cabal would be there soon. Most guardians were glorified heroes were they only knew how to shoot and fight, but he and his Comrades, allies, friends, family knew exactly how the enemy functioned, which way they went and how they hunted. (121) So he waited knowing that one dropship would come circle around while the ground team searches and then if needed reinforcements would come. So he sat up in a nearby building till the ship came, dropped most of the cabal inside it and started to circle. At one point it seemed like the ship would never go near him but just as he was about to give up it flew right next to him and he hopped on top and went in through a turret opening and killed everyone inside, called off reinforcements and left back for a hanger in a safe zone with his military personnel at it. (230) Good morning said his colonel to him and he saluted but hastily made way to his jet in which he was starting up when his colonel and a few other members came to him for comfort. They all bonded over the past few years and when Zack lost everything they helped him out, after all they could use his engineering and tactical skills. He looked back and said "Good luck"... Bam! 300 words exactly and I did it for you Aloki hope you like it there is some background left out for reasons but if I need it just let me know and thanks for reading :)

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          • Edited by SaviorsBlood: 7/14/2013 6:56:01 AM
            When the Titan arrived at the LZ, an old decrepit ghost town awaited him, half buried by rust-colored sand. Strong winds screamed and swirled around the bulky Guardian. Visibility was low due to the billowing clouds of sand caught up in the violent howling winds. The Titan ventured deep into the dilapidated ancient remains of humanity's former glory. Suddenly a blast ripped through the thick, red veil of dust, narrowly missing the Titan. He instinctively shouldered his LMG. The shrieks of dregs and vandals drew closer. When the pack emerged, they rushed after the Titan chaotically. The Guardian opened fire with merciless intent, shredding the Fallen group's integrity. Subsequently, a fearsome roar thundered; its echoes ricocheting off of the age-worn walls of the Buried City. An unusually large captain boldly and proudly strode out into the street ahead. With a grunt of disgust, the captain barked orders to his retreating subordinates. The Titan paced himself, pressing forward, dispatching the helpless Fallen soldiers. The captain charged after the Titan with furious determination. Without breaking stride, the Guardian fearlessly continued toward the imminent clash with the Fallen behemoth. The Titan hosed the incoming foe's center mass until his ammunition ran dry. Yet the captain defiantly refused to accept defeat and ferociously swung his swords at the Guardian. Effectively parrying and evading the blades, the Titan swung his rifle like a club, striking the alien commander with the stock. Immediately, he tackled the massive and dazed captain. Now with the advantage, the Guardian loosed a brutal, ruthless tempest of heavy punches and when the barrage subsided, he unleashed his devastating fists of havoc on the wounded opponent's face, utterly destroying the captain's head. The Titan slowly rose, reflecting on his commission. This was war. This was survival. The conflict humanity faced had no place for glory or honor. The selfless warrior vowed that he would shield the remnants of humanity, just like the Last City's Wall has for ages. As the Titan wrenched the twisted metal from his gauntlets, he understood his duty and his destiny...

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            • I cant breath. They're outside. They're out there and there's nothing I can do. Its been days, im starving to the point of insanity. The only thing louder than my stomach roaring is the desolate wind blowing through the tiny fractures in this fortress I hide in...but 'hide' isn't the right word. They know im here...but they choose to wait instead of invade. Waiting does no good when those you are trying to outlast have no concept of time. I could wait for eternity, but eternity is time, and beings that can travel through time like we do space can not be escaped by waiting, because waiting to them means nothing. They wont let me out, and they wont come in and end this. They'll wait. Because waiting is what they do best. If only I was in range of the traveler. I could call upon my fellow guardians and destroy those ugly one-eyed son's of bitches.

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            • Too Late Red dust danced and swirled as the hoverbike weaved through the skeletons of once illustrious buildings. The sky was always gloomy, but today seemed particularly malicious, and as he rounded the final corner and the encampment came into view, the silence proved him right. There should have been gunfire, explosions, plasma burning holes in the air. Even screams would have been a welcome sound. Instead there was only ear-splitting silence. He dismounted and jogged into the center, his hastily-clad armor rattling and his rifle to his ear. A huge Cabal shield lay discarded on the ground dented by bullets and blackened by fire. Further evidence of a firefight was obvious; empty shells littered the concrete, fresh scrapes and burns were everywhere, and it smelled of sulfur. He walked into the structure and the smell of death would have overwhelmed him if it wasn’t so familiar. He followed the shells and huge boot-prints through the first room. A hunter’s helmet was on its side by the doorway, a wide dent in the top. He kicked the helmet over and saw blood on the inside. In the next room there was more blood, and a familiar rifle lay in pieces, abandoned. In the final room he found her, slumped lifelessly against a wall. Dried blood ran down from her head to her shoulder, staining the sand-colored cape she had found with him on Venus. A thick knife lay next to her hand, blood red to the hilt. Aside the knife was the hunter’s killer, his huge mouth open almost as wide as the gash between his ribs. The Cabal had no other wounds, but a hunter knew where to place her blades. “I should have been here.” The Titan said to her as he carried her back to his hoverbike.

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            • Edited by Gold Fox14: 7/14/2013 7:21:59 PM
              I am a hunter. I am familiar with loneliness, but this… this is different. It’s different because I know humanities’ fate rests on me, and I’m not sure if I can do this alone. I am a guardian, a protector of humanity. To protect humanity I must eliminate any and all threats, even if it means leaving the Traveler behind to neutralize said threats. That is how I ended up here, on Mars. The orange-red sand seemed to go on forever, until I found this city. It’s the only remains of the human civilization that once thrived here. I wondered how long it took to build this city, what kind of people lived here, and how long it took the Cabal to destroy everything they held dear. But thinking never helped me before, so I threw these thoughts from my mind, then I saw something. It was a statue of two men shaking hands, the plaque read “to commemorate the settlement of Mars.” My heart sank. It made me think of all the work that went into this world, all the people that lived here, and how they all worked for better lives; it triggered a sense of determination in me. This world was once inhabited by millions of humans during the golden age, the age of humanity where we explored our solar system and settled on worlds so that we may grow, but now it’s empty. Empty because our enemies, aliens from some far off solar system, decided they wanted us gone, and they almost succeeded. The Traveler saved us from annihilation, from going extinct. The Traveler kept us alive for a reason, and that is because it is our destiny to live here, in our solar system… And I’m here to make sure this destiny is fulfilled.

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            • Beforehand, I would like to mention that this was very difficult for me to write. It took me nearly 5 hours to write, edit, and revise it all. With that in mind, this is my anecdote.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- All that was left was a scarred wasteland. There were few signs of past civilization; condemned buildings, ancient tech... they were all reminders of what had happened here so long ago. In a past generation, this outpost belonged to my people. We were proud folk. We strayed ourselves from the path of violence and greed, so that people across the universe may prosper. We knew nothing of that way of life, until war was brought down upon us. We never expected anything like it to happen. We had no weaponry or protection. My people were completely defenseless, and our numbers fell quickly. Not long after the initial attack, our chieftain was murdered. There were few sole survivors after the attack. Those that remained, that survived the onslaught, came together as one. We banded together, and I led them. We were all that remained, and I was their captain. Back then, I made my men a promise. I swore to them, that one day, we would seek vengeance on those that sought to destroy us. I told them that we would take the power from those that stole our homeland. That one day, we would rise to power, and take back what was once ours. Thirty years have passed, and our cause is stronger then ever. If we remember what had once happened, then we will be able to conquer any foe. We, the Fallen, have risen to power once more, and we shall eliminate the Guardians of Destiny!

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            • Tessa Williams hated abandoned buildings. They didn’t make her sad, and she hardly found them eerie; it was difficult for a woman who didn’t believe in God, especially one encased in an expensive, Kevlar-coated, vacuum-rated combat helmet, to be afraid of ghosts. No, Tessa Williams hated abandoned buildings because they were too quiet. It had been so easy in the City, in the endless hustle and roar of the lower markets, resplendent under the Wall’s shadow. Under all the arguments, the haggling, the call of wares, Tessa, a scrap of a girl then, had stolen hundreds of things, easy as breathing. It had been so loud, so full of distractions. Not so here. Mars had been dead a long time, and dead things were quiet things. She’d made a rookie mistake. Hadn’t kept her feet, and kicked an old, rusted can across the derelict transit station. A loud can. Now there were two Cabal scouts in the staging area around the corner, and they were getting closer. “It would seem your demise is imminent,” her Ghost reported through her helmet’s comms. “It would seem you shutting the hell up is imminent,” Tess hissed. The thing was malfunctioning, Tess was pretty sure, ignoring its etiquette protocols. It was usually snarky, yeah, but not morbid. Glitchy chunk of metal was right, though. It was hard to be quiet in quiet places. She would never get past the fat reptiles, stupid as they were, and she had always been better at sneaking than shooting. Tess sighed. There was nothing for it. She laid her rifle over her padded knees, checked the magazine, checked the action. Smooth as butter. She rose to the balls of her feet, eased the barrel over the hood of the gutted car. She peered through the scope and prayed.

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            • As I, a new and faithful addition to the growing number of skilled soldiers, or guardians, edged cautiously through the derelict courtyard looking for my new fire team member a hunter by trade, the heavy sun beamed down upon the bare, orange floor. It was, I am sure now, one of the most peaceful yet eerie moments in my entire career and yet I look back and laugh upon times when peace was so easily acquired. Those brief seconds of tranquillity were however disturbed by a sudden mass of movement away to my left. I slid into the nearest cover which happened to be a crumbling road blockade with unwanted weeds blocking my view and braced myself for a tough fight. The 'enemies' that approached next had me laughing with hysteria at what I thought would be my grisly end. Rats. Rats specially adapted to the brutal atmospheric conditions native to Mars. Soon after I had recovered, my sanity returned and jumped to the conclusion that they were running from something. That something suddenly came erupting out the side of a building. A single Cabal warrior that must have been on guard heard my laughing and I was now on the other end, the wrong end rather, of his aged, metallic yet beautiful rifle. This time my number really was up. Or so I thought. I was preparing for the bullet to pierce my fragile body when the glint of an obviously much bigger rifle with a much bigger bullet tore the warriors’ helmet right off leaving a large hole revealing its brains spilling from it, sickening me. I looked back up to the glint to see a hunter offering me a quick salute. I took a minute to reflect the horror and beauty of my novice days.

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            • Edited by Grand Executor: 9/9/2014 3:35:30 AM
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            • Edited by Gladius: 7/14/2013 3:28:44 AM
              Ok, hopefully this is open to Australian residents. [quote]The clinging red dust pounded beneath his feet as he sprinted through the streets of the Buried City. The young Warlock chanced a brief glance to his rear down the ancient avenues of the decaying metropolis. No sign of his monstrous pursuers. He took a left turn down what had once been a main road, now littered with debris from the mysterious Fall that had ravaged mankind centuries before. The causeway opened out a hundred metres ahead of him. Dim light, filtering through the dark clouds overhead, highlighted the swirling red dust that had risen up in the artificial wind created by the Golden Age terraforming process. The Warlock stopped for a moment, unsure of his location. He pressed on. He reached the large open space, and despair welled up inside him as a great gust cleared the Martian air. The skeletal remains of a wall of skyscrapers fenced the area, a sea of red-orange sand swamping any path forward. In the centre of the space, a low yellow structure squatted. The old metro station. It was as far from the Warlock’s spacecraft as was possible before one met the deep, red desert. Loud, mechanical thuds echoed within the urban jungle behind him. For the first time, he felt real, paralysing fear grip his chest. The Cabal were coming. He saw now his arrogance, his ignorance. He had completed his training and become a Guardian just one month before. How naïve he had been! His early forays into the wild outside the Wall, riding on the success of far greater Guardians, had been child’s play. Now he was alone on an enemy-occupied world, at the mercy of the Cabal. Then he knew. The grip of his weapon once more felt natural in his hands. He could fell the Traveller’s power coursing through his fingertips. This was what made a Guardian. This was his chance to become Legend. Destiny awaits. [/quote]

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              • Edited by Kvaener: 7/13/2013 6:14:02 PM
                [b]Traveler's Nightsong[/b] The wind - cold, grating, hollow - bleeds through the bones of the buildings. The rasping breaths of an animal beaten, broken, abandoned. High above me it dances amongst sandy phantasms, beckoning me. With every gulp of sterile, metallic air through my damaged filter, with every desperate grasp at my next footstep, I feel a little closer to them. Just a little calmer. Every few steps I feel myself lifted by them - I feel my feet leave the ground, feel all the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders - before I fall once again into the broken remains of the ground. I stare back at the macabre breadcrumb trail I have left. Crimson, sullied by the sand, lit by a cold, distant knife of sunlight. Only upon seeing it, the Sun, so far away, abandoning me, do I know the grounds of home from whence I came, are lost to me. And thus I would drag myself from the tarnished ground and up upon my worn feet, and walk. I know no longer where it is I am headed. Memory is silent now. All there is, all that there ever would be, are the Tombs of a city - their shadows speaking of rest, the cracked, aching ground and the walking. There is no epilogue, no music, no cavalry on the hill. All the lights and angels of Heaven are silent. My footfalls like thunderclaps, my breaths quickening, the air like sandpaper in my throat. Maybe it is time now. I look up at the buildings, still, calm, empty, whilst the Sun shines of earlier times, I exhale once more as the clouds part. The wind exhales with me, it too now sleeps. And, soon, done with walking, I shall rest too.

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                • Edited by DanTheMormonian: 7/15/2013 3:12:02 AM
                  The sun was behind my back, faint and dull, for pollution and decay had obscured its rays. As I crept through the decaying remnants of an era long gone, no matter where I went, I could never stop appreciating natures beauty. The ground was a rich brownish red. I looked at the buildings, old and decrepit; representations of their creators dreams and accomplishments. The place held a surreal beauty and a chilling presence. I looked down and noticed the skeletons here and there, their white bones in contrast with the red sand. I couldn't help but wonder what their lives had been like? I noticed movement too late as an explosion hit my left side. I lurched into cover, the pain was unbearable, my armor had been shredded. As I lay there, I heard movement approaching behind me and knew in my current state I would most likely die. I thought about the sacrifices that I’d made to be able to be here. I had always wanted to serve, to protect the world, but I had been born with physical limitations that harshly lowered my physical ability. I remembered how I worked and slaved, to push my body to its limits, and that after several years and more pain than I had ever endured, I had reached my goal and was able to be a Guardian. This was the ultimate gift I could give, that I would give my life for the protection of our kind, and I knew there was no better honor. I remembered the love I felt for my world and its people, and I remembered my duty. I rose up and met my enemies head on, I wouldn't give up, I wouldn't lose!!! This, was my Destiny.

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                • Edited by Towaito: 7/13/2013 11:37:31 PM
                  After nearing the end of a building they happened to enter the fire-team see a faint light at the other end of the decayed and destroyed building that was mangled and filled with sand from the blowing winds of Mars. Being blinded by the light as it peers into the eyes of the fire-team, they raise their hands to block out a part of the sun only to see the wrecked town before them. Nothing they haven't seen before but, yet an excitement builds in their body that they could not control as it was a place none of them have been before and just simply could not wait to get their hands on what treasures await them. They took turns looking at each other before giving a nod and heading out into the unknown land spread out before them keeping a tight formation while they take their first few steps into the rotted city's entrails. The fire-team makes their way to the center building that was closest to them all, seeing it was the oddest shaped and the most interesting building to look at. The city's buildings almost created a solid wall around the old abandoned structure. Approaching the entrance of the dark building they can hear the faint whispers of the wind or perhaps something much more menacing. Though the only way to recover the treasures and fortunes of old is to delve into the whispering walls of the infested building. Will they be heroes? Or meet a dreadful end? Who knows but, as Guardians of the last city it is their DUTY to explore and take back what was once their own.

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