Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

Virtually disheartened and exhausted his destination finally came into view. It's been 2 hours since the guardian set out wandering the vast dunes of the fourth planet in search of this place. His mental stamina had nearly hit its limit navigating this arid desert of unchanging scenery. What stood before him now was a place where nature had become ascendant over once beautiful architecture, concealing the vast mausoleum hidden beneath. “The Buried City” he softly uttered to himself with a smirk. Sand particles pattered against his swaying cloak alongside a subtle breeze, the only faint sounds he heard while reflecting upon his discovery. The Buried City. Housing abundant treasures forfeited by human civilization before the Golden Age and claimed by an unyielding enemy during the Twilight Gap, or so the possibly fabricated rumor goes. This vague description now seemed unfitting for such a captivating sight. Traveling here first brought him much pride, realizing future Guardians would benefit from his perseverance. This did not overshadow the true incentive of this journey however. Beyond doubt an exotic wea... ! His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a deafening bellow. A giant armor clad beast known as a Cabal came lumbering towards him. The Guardian swiftly dodged to the left raising his side arm. In an orange flash the foe burst into yellow particles before slowly fading away. A sight the Guardian never grew tired of. Regaining his bearings he suddenly realized why the Cabal fostered a second name. “Sand Eaters.” Emerging around the station were two, seven, no... a hundred he discerned. An enemy whose true might was wrapped in speculation until this moment. The lone guardian faltered, fighting till his last breath. “Next time.” _________________________________________________________________________________ -Thoroughly enjoyed writing this despite expecting not to win, thanks for hosting a fun contest with a cool idea!

Decay. It was a familiar sight to the Titan and Warlock, swallowed up by the ethereal towers, seemingly empty for the better part of an era. Suddenly the Warlock's hand went to his rifle, and shouldering it instantly, he stared down the custom holo-sight at the onyx figure inside the upper floors of a skyscraper. The guardians were hopeful. After all, the two assumed that the loner must be a fellow hunter in a perch. But they were wrong. A Cabal shriek came from atop the tower, and the unmistakable thud of legionaries were heard by the guardian's ears and felt by their legs. As the troops emerged from all sides, gunfire filled the air. The Titan rained his fists of havoc upon the steps of the old rail station. Dust flew several stories into the sky, obscuring the pair from sight. But there was no escape; the two were pinned, and they knew it. As the Cabal ceased fire, waiting for the dust to settle, confident that they had them surrounded, the guardians reloaded preparing for the hellish fight before them. For a moment, there was just swirling sand and silence again. Then, the thunder of a minigun pierced the sky, so loud that it seemed catatonic to the senses. Dozens of Cabal fell to the ground in an instant, the remaining ones struggling to fire on the spacecraft, which maneuvered between the colossal towers. The Warlock swiftly downed the stunned Cabal with a nova bomb as the Titan finished downed Cabal with his shotgun. It was over as fast as it began. And while the mysterious hero's ship continued on without a word, it was forever made legend to the other guardians in a way that transcends the stories they tell of it to this day.

[quote]you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 hundred words.[/quote] So...does that mean 30,000 words, because 300*100=30,000 jk ;)

Is Buried city the name of the entire city or is like a nick name for the city?

[quote]The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above.[/quote] ?

There was light. A glimmer. A beacon which cut through the abysmal darkness. And he awoke. And he struggled to comprehend, his surroundings and his own self. [i]How many eons had he spent beneath the sand?[/i] A shudder passed through his body, as the vagrant wanderer accepted breath into his chest once more. Senses returned in staccato bursts, brining sounds, and serene visions of rugged mountains with arms rising towards the crimson heavens. But when his vision cleared, the faintest hints of revelations began to show themselves and the vagrant wanderer remembered the truth about the mountains. [i]Not mountains, mausoleums.[/i] The wanderer realized then what had wakened him. The building’s façade had collapsed, exposing him to the harsh environment of the Martian tundra. He arose quickly, now aware of the roaring dust storms that waged war to the firmament. But fear did not grip the vagrant wanderer. He limped forward, worn joints struggling to adjust to movement, and as the full light finally fell upon him, so too did the full truth. [i]Mausoleums indeed.[/i] Half concealed fossils jeered at him, buried skulls forever locked with eerie rictuses. The memories returned to him in flashing glimpses. [i]Men and women turning from the skies...[/i] [i]Seeking refuge beneath the sand…[/i] [i]Their monuments becoming their graves. [/i] The vagrant wanderer fell to his knees, questioning the nature of his survival. He dropped his head into his hands, but could not weep. [i]Machines cannot shed tears.[/i] He fought to strengthen himself, and, at one last realization, he steeled himself and ended his lamentations. Darkness surrounding him once more, EXO-0481 sat down against a wall. Arms on his knees. Eyes to the sky. His creators had once descended from the heavens. They had toiled through war, and famine, and death. They would return. And they would reclaim.

My entry is titled, "I know why I am here." (the music is what I listened to while I wrote this and sort of set the mood). A gust of wind kicks up the sand around my visor, temporarily impeding my view, but there isn’t enough sand in the barren wilderness to erase the images of what lies here now. A seemingly magnificent city, surely teeming with life and energy, now reduced to a concrete jungle, once again reclaimed by nature. These sand-covered ruins are now a mass grave, and I treat it with respect. I have always silently mourned for those lost by whatever took their lives. We never knew each other, we never will, but still I mourn the loss of an innocent life. Seeing the decay of the buildings, the streets over-run by nature, the decimated ancient vehicles, and the broken, cracked bones revealed by the blowing winds remind me what we’re here for. Why we are still here. I know why. Some are here to uncover knowledge to be gained from the ancient, buried city. Some are here to discover lost treasures from the old world; diamonds, gold, weapons, and even armor all hidden from sight deep within the buried ruins, the buried graves. I know why I am here. I am here to avenge the lost lives of those before us. We have different reasons, but we are here. There are no titles here. No Hunters. No Warlocks. No Titans. We are simply brothers in arms. We see the enemies scurry in the ruins. We see the rubble fall behind their footsteps in the great decaying buildings. We have seen their footsteps left in the sand. We know they are here, and we are glad. A Fallen sniper’s bullet pierces the air along with the sand in the wind. I am here to avenge. We know why we are here, but do they? The battle begins, and I am ready. We are ready.

Pain. The only word that can sum up this dreadful place that I have woken up to. Untouched by life for so long, metal struts break upon my weight as I bring myself to my feet. Where am I? I have been here long enough that sand has accumulated in tiny crevices within the folds of my clothing. I shouldn't have been out that long. Footsteps lead into the dark structure that I awoke next to. The wind is slowly blowing them away. Whoever, or whatever, they belong to was here recently. Heading into the structure I follow the footsteps as long as the sand reaches. But after a few minutes the sand has gone and I have nothing to keep my bearings on. I step from the sand onto the cold hard metal floor and look back and chuckle while letting out a little grin. The footsteps reminded me of a story my mother used to tell me about a little boy and girl that left bread crumbs upon the forest floor so they knew how to get home after their day's adventures. My grin fades as I realize the story ends with a witch, and I promptly turn back around and head into the unknown. Light. After an unknown period of time I see a pale pulsating glow emanating from around the corner. I quickly move towards it and peer around the corner. Some complex structure atop a dais at the foot of a metal table is the source of the glow. Trails of wires lead to the skeleton of what seems to be a portal. The table is glowing in a very peculiar fashion. I move closer to investigate and I realize. Blood. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I turn around. He’s there. Of course He is. He’s always been there. He wanted me to find this; to see what is about to come. I’ve nowhere left to go as he moves towards me. Smiling. Why does He smile? He’s so close. I feel a slight pressure on my chest. The warmth of my body is fleeing. I look up at that smiling face as the cold grips of death grab me. Silence.

The outpost, now lifeless and sand-coated, left a stench of death on the Huntress' cloak. The Huntress bent down and felt the sand. It was hard and clumpy. The sand has been here long, she thought. A loud screech came from behind. Startled, the Huntress turned around with her hand on her pistol. Unable to locate the source of the noise, she slipped her hand off of her pistol and onto her side. She noticed something in the sand just outside of the outpost. She slowly walked towards the object, careful to make as little noise as possible. She bent down and picked up the object. It was a helmet, one belonging to a Titan. The helmet was coated with sand and loaded with scratches and cracks. She set the helmet down on the ground, leaving it out of the sand. The silence of the dead air was driving her crazy. She knew something was here, but what? She hoped it was another Guardian, perhaps a Titan. She could really use one of those. She heard the screech again. She whipped out her pistol and aimed at the source of the scream. It wasn’t human. She slowly began moving towards the alleyway, frightened to near insanity. She peeked down the alley. There was nothing. Still wielding her pistol, she walked down the alleyway. She got on one wall and turned the corner. Still nothing. She looked in the other direction. Nothing. She decided to return to the outpost, hoping it was a relatively safe place to stay for the night. Mars was dangerous at night, and she wasn’t about to go out into the wilderness alone. She heard the screech once more. She walked out of the outpost quietly. This time, she felt a sharp metal enter her skin.

A duo of a war veteran hunter and a well-respected Warlock leave the safety of their camp to explore the Martian Wastelands in search of legendary treasures. The hunter takes point, guiding the warlock through the wastes, watching for any threats and anything that sparks their interests. They proceed over a large sand dune, beyond it they notice human-built structure in the distance, as they approach the structure, the hunter moves ahead, scouting the area for hostiles. The warlock keeps his distance, ready for whatever signal the hunter gives, the hunter signals that it is all clear, and they move forward. They wander aimlessly through the Buried City, looking for any interesting structures, soon they reach the center of the city, the town hall. This time, the warlock enters first, magic ready with a shotgun in hand, the warlock proceeds with the hunter watching their 6’. The city hall leads to a tunnel system, most likely used as an escape route for town officials, they enter it hoping to find the town’s vault; instead they reach a dead end. Now befuddled by this strange structure, the warlock investigates. He finds a suspicious indented wall and decides that it may have been a hidden doorway and blasts it open using his mighty nova blast. The sound is so loud, even the birds outside scatter, sadly other creatures heard it as well. An entire squadron of Cabal come rushing out of the destroyed doorway and fire at the duo of guardians. The duo hides behind the ruins in the tunnel and send out a distress call. Sadly, the Cabal overwhelm them when suddenly, a titan uses the Fist of Havoc, and comes crashing through the roof, caving in the tunnel on the Cabal and saving the duo, a new fireteam has formed.

I see where are mission is taking us. A building maybe clicks of our position. Supposedly there are supplies in there to last our city for quite a while. The only thing is the Fallen have beaten us to it. I look around at my comrades and see that we are a real motley crew. Some I just met, others I've known since childhood, but each has my unbridled respect. We advance towards the objective, watching for patrols and trying not to give away our presence. As we advance upon the structure I take a minute to just take in my surroundings and ponder what utmost gave looked like before all this death and destruction. People going about their usual business, working, earning their wages to feed their families. And now it's just a building surrounded by the glass of its window, structural beams broken, roof collapsing, and a smell of death all around. I'm brought back from my thoughts as a unusually big patrol starts to exit the building. This must be are target. About maybe 20 are exiting the building, followed by another ten, each carrying a crate of the supplies we're going to need if we are to survive these next couple of months. Before we can mobilize we notice something that stops us before we can even start. They have hostages. If we move now, they could die. I've killed many of the Fallen throughout my missions without a second thought, shooting them down one by one, not even phased by the blood. But could I risk having the blood of a [i]human[/i] on my hands? Could I deal with the guilt? Before I can give command, one my own charges, guns blazing, then one more, than the rest. As I'm watching, the Fallen see the them coming, and immediately line the hostages up in front of them as a human wall. My comrades are not fazed and continue the assault. Later they will justify a few deaths is a means to an end, that they will have sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. Seeing their blood spilled on the sand makes me wonder if we have not already lost it. There are times where I question what I do.There are times where I question what we all do. The violence, the bloodshed, the loss of so much, I just sometimes wonder why we don't just give in and forfeit our lives and escape from this world, dust to dust. There are times where it feels like we have. But then I look up. I see it there just, above the top of our glorious city in the distance. A beacon of hope for all humanity, and I realize that we don't give up because we can't give up. Humanity is something we humans don't give up, and seeing the Traveller there above our species, our world, I realize that we have a future. A future of joy, of happiness, of peace, and that the only we are to get there is use what's been given to me and my brothers in arms and take back what is, and always will be, ours. So I step forward, strong in my conviction, gun in hand,and begin my mission. Praying for our dead and soon to be. For our living. For myself. For our future. For our Destiny.

Damn this sand Re-learning to walk in Mars's gravity - less than half Earth's- had been enough of a challenge, but the Warlock thought she could never get used to the sand. Fine, light and abrasive, it jammed guns, fouled machinery, and got into the joints her armor. She shifted her body, sending a small cascade of the stuff off her shoulders. It drifted, too slowly, down to the pavilion below. Now retaken by the environment, the dunes that had flowed into the city brought corrosion and decay with them. After years of abandonment, all that remained of most of the city was its bones. Fortunate for her, concrete fared better than the glass and chrome of the taller buildings. Her vantage point was eroded, yet stable. Nonetheless, deep, almost orange sand collected along the curved edges of the roof. However, not everything the desert brought was entropic. A few gnarled, scrubby bushes grew where they could in the former population center. The distant whine of an engine broke her contemplation. She snapped to attention, searching for the source of the noise. The Titan, also alerted, had already hefted his massive rifle and was peering up into the grey sky. “There.” The Hunter pointed north, over the buildings to the surrounding badlands. A rust colored cloud was growing on the horizon. The Warlock readied her own rifle and looked down the scope. Cabal? Or had the Fallen finally decided to expand their raiding territory? It was impossible to tell. Billowing clouds of dust the color of dried blood obscured whatever, or whoever, was approaching. Damn this sand.

Martin walked over the crimson dust with purpose in his stride. He'd only just become a guardian of the City and he was eager to prove himself. When the Traveler picked him, no one was surprised. The hulking man had been waiting for this moment since he was a child, staring up at the benevolent white sphere that hung low over the City that made him feel safe. The location he wanted loomed over him now. The Dust Palace. He was to eliminate the Cabal threat in the area. His new superiors wanted him to prove himself and he was eager to. His first kill was a great one. He heard a low grumbling and took cover behind a large rock. Peeking over the red-rimmed edge, he saw it. The Legionarre. Martin quietly unstrapped his machine gun from his armored back. Turning off the safety with a dull click, he shouldered it and took aim. It spotted him. With a great roar the Cabal rushed him with its monumental shield. The fresh Titan's quick wits saved his life. He took a run straight at it and slid between its legs! The gargantuan beast was slow to react and Martin took his shot. High caliber bullets ripped through the metal plate over the Cabal's back. It turned, wide-eyed, and raised its shield. Before it could strike though, it toppled like a great tree and lay there dead. Martin took a heaving breath, sweat rolling down his face inside of his helmet. He would have died if not for her. The roar of the fallen Cabal had attracted the other door guard. With greatly surprisingly light step, it shadowed over the proportionally minuscule Titan and raised its shield. Martin turned and knew he'd -blam!-ed up. The Cabal managed its version of a smile and...alien blood cascaded from its fat throat as a wide steel blade pierced through it. Falling like a rock, the Cabal thundered down and revealed his assassin to Martin. The Huntress sheathed her combat knife and held out a hand to him, "Hi! I'm Fália."

This will be fun.

My first story for fun in...well several years lol. If ANYONE here reads it and has tips, pointers, or anything to say, please comment. I enjoy input. Thanks all. [i]Mars. Simply beautiful. This red desert is nothing like the great wastelands back on earth.To think that we once ruled the entire expanse fro…[/i] “You done staring at the dust space wizard?” “Yeh yeh. Get off my case Raiu. You would be doing the same thing if it was a pile of guns. And you know I prefer arcane scholar.” “Whatever. All I’m saying is that if we don’t get moving, that cabal is going to get away. I will not be the first hunter to be outrun by a damn hulking cabal. Let’s go.” [i]I mumble in agreement and start to jog.[/i] [i]Raiu was on watch when the cabal came into view. He was about to slice the top of the beasts head clean of with his long rifle, but he noticed the ghost that was cradled in his arms. Raui quickly decided that this was no ordinary cabal, and thus would be carrying no ordinary loot. His lust for guns stayed his shot. Raiu awoke me and we were off. After slowly following the behemoth , we finally walk into a vast city. The city is being overtaken by the red planets deserts. So beautiful, yet so powerful and unstoppable. [/i] “Hold up.” [i]Raiu pulls out his pistol for close range combat[/i] “We are not alone Matt…” [i]I hear clicking and grunts in the surrounding buildings. A base? Some sort of cabal hold? *SLAM* A cabal jumps from a second story floor and brandishes his canon as 2 more giants drop in behind him.[/i] “Nothing is free in this world, eh Raiu?” “Shut up and shoot you idiot!” [i] I reach inward to my energy and feel the power flowing through me. I direct the arcane essence to my hand and stare into the blue sphere of sparkling light…simply beautiful…[/i]

5 of 5 She had done it. Falia had done it. That Warlock had been a thorn in her side for days and she had finally plucked him. She had Martin to thank, he had distracted Colin long enough for her to break out of her cage and get swift revenge. Martin cringed, fearing the end and the violent sounds of an explosion to launch him through Death's door. All he heard was the sound of gunfire and a loud thump. He slowly opened his eyes and was instantly relieved. The clumsy Titan stood up. "What took you so long Martin?" the Huntress asked, smiling weakly. "You know how our superiors are." He replied gravely, guessing what she was thinking. Frowning, Falia removed her helmet, letting her chestnut hair flow in the musty breeze from the door. Her piercing blue eyes showed an expression of discontent. She looked around the large room and started searching for something. Martin was puzzled by this, and all he could think of doing was following her and pretending he knew what she was doing. Falia, having told Martin to look around more harshly than she had intended, strode over to a rough, makeshift table that sat sadly beside the cage. She opened the drawer inside of it and found a small loosely bound, leather book lying in it. raising an eyebrow, she opened the first page that hadn't been ripped out and raised the other eyebrow. "Journal of Colin Isles: October 17th, 2713. My mission in Chicago was a success, though my coat is still dripping with swamp water. The Hive squatting there also left it smelling of decay and drool. The damage was worth it though. I found another clue to those creatures I had a run in with on Europa. The walls of the building were covered with strange markings that looked to be made by charcoal. Several small solid black triangles etched into the floor surrounded a little rotting cupboard sitting in the center of the room. Opening it I gasped and almost vomited. Sitting in it was a... well, it was a severed head. branded into the pale forward was another triangle next to a message written in the same language as before. I bundled up the ghastly thing and cross referenced it to the other messages and found that this is what it read: 'This guardian ignored our commands Warlock, don't make the same mistake. Your next mission will lead you to the next message, a map to our location. Do this and you will be greatly rewarded, fail and you and many others will pay the ultimate price.' I must carry on for the sake of the city and my fellow guardians. I must put an end to this." The greatly disturbed Huntress finished and felt a sadness and regret growing inside of her. The Bastard wasn't always so bad. "Martin! Get over here!" She called to the Titan who was, at the moment, rummaging through a large chest of Glimmer he had found at the other end of the large chamber. He quickly acted like he was searching for something of importance and glanced up at her, "Just a second!" He called back. A couple seconds later, now feeling satisfied with his findings, he jogged over to her, "What is it?" "Look at this." is all she could manage and handed him the journal. Taking off his helmet and revealing his short blonde hair drenched in sweat and this strong features locked in another puzzled look, he opened it and read what she had. Martin looked up at her and said nothing. He simply handed her the book back with a subtle look of sympathy. She continued to read, out loud this time. "Journal of Colin Isles: October 20th, 2713. I found the map in a hole in a dying tree on Venus. It was a holographic device containing a small 3D model of Earth's Moon. Zooming in on a small crater, I realised it wasn't a crater at all. It was a large jagged mine of some kind, long abandoned since the great failure of the lunar colonization. I knew this must have been the place, the eerie messages repeating in my head. I returned to the tower two hours ago and all the preparations are almost complete. I'm going to call on a favor an old friend owes me to create an alibi. Tomorrow night I finish this." The two guardians' eyes met for a couple of seconds, Falia's swelling with tears and Martin's more in a curios fit. He realised how this was affecting his friend and took on the reading. He read the next entry. "Journal of Colin Isles: October 21st, 2713. Raeman Covered for me until I got back, although he was greatly curios about what was so urgent. I told him it was a matter of life or death, and he asked no more. He's a good man and a even better friend. An hour later, under the cover of night, I silently pulled out of the tower bay and made my way to the moon. 15 minutes later, I landed on the lunar surface. I write this standing outside of the hellish crater that I don't know if I'll return from. If you find this book, make sure that my friends remember me as I was." Falia was in tears now, what had she done? "Wait! That's not the last entry." Martin said, reading on. "My Journal! Entry 100,000! Those friendly creatures with the black ships gave me the secret to power, I relish in it! But I need more. Who was that bastard I talked to before I met? Raeman? I'll use him! He has power. The traveler won't grant me enough so I'll just take it! WHY CAN'T I HAVE IT?! IT SHOULD BE MINE! Damn Raeman! He knows nothing of power! He doesn't use it properly!" Martin was disturbed and didn't want to read any more. Falia, know controlled, insisted that he read on. He grudgingly obliged. "Raeman screamed when he died. The power washed over me like a waterfall. I LOVED IT. I need more though, much more. I can feel its hate. It doesn't understand me. The Traveler will fall, my power will sing it to its death." She had heard enough. Falia stood up and wiped her tears away. Taking the book from Martin, she tucked it into her cloak and strapped her thorny pistol to her side. This gun would destroy whoever did this to Colin, she would be sure of it.