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4/16/2021 1:44:55 PM
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Rys, Citadel of the Blackguard - A Serious D2 Short Story

[b]Rys, Citadel of the Blackguard – A Serious D2 Short Story[/b] [spoiler]The Blackguards: an order of Light wielders that branched off from the Iron Lords; a self-described “Hammer of Light.” Comprised of three sections: the Swift, the Devoted, and the Unyielding. -Unknown[/spoiler] There are not many times when Zavala is speechless. When he is, it signals an imminent threat of some kind, or severe restraint. I’m not sure which he is exhibiting before me now. Faeradûn came with him, and he’s standing next to the Titan with an air of authority, even though he possesses none. Zavala is looking at me with an utter loss for words. Finally, he speaks. “She concealed it so well, so perfectly.” “It was right in front of us?” I ask. “In a way.” I frown beneath my helm and fold my hands together, propping my elbows on the table. “Why haven’t we known this before now?” “She is cunning. Her will is dominant among the Hive. Faeradûn…” Zavala glances at the wizard beside him, “is a prime example.” “And what makes you think she isn’t watching right now?” I resist the urge to reach for my gilded knife and throw it into one of the Wizard’s eyes. “A feeling. Instinct.” “Because that’s always saved humanity in the past,” my Ghost, Lawrence, remarks quietly so only I can hear him. “Where is Heath?” I ask, changing the subject quickly. “He hasn’t been present for several meetings. I’m beginning to think he’s either left, or died his final death.” “He has spent many moons looking for me in my grave,” Faeradûn replied, unwavering. “He now searches for the weakness of the Witch Queen.” “Why only him? What gives him the right to go alone?” “Preference. He has told me that he works better when alone.” I laugh. “Preference is an ideal that faded along with the Golden Age. It’s barely principal anymore. Humanity now has to rule under order, structure.” “Isn’t that what ended the Golden Age?” Faeradûn asks angrily. “An order more perfect than your own? It was another order that forced the Traveler to awaken. It will be order that will end it.” I rise furiously. “For a supposed converted Hive, you aren’t very optimistic about this whole situation. Maybe you haven’t changed. I wonder if Savathûn still lurks behind that skull of yours.” Faeradûn shrieks and summons green bolts of fire and levitates from the ground, poised to strike. I flip out my Night Watch and aim at his head. Neither of us move. “Rys,” Zavala speaks slowly. “He is not our enemy. Savathûn is. Let’s focus our efforts on bringing her down, and not on killing each other.” Slowly, very slowly, I lower my rifle. Faeradûn lowers himself and clasps his hands behind his once more. The bolts vanish. I sit back down and resume my previous stance. “The Blackguards will ally with the City in this hunt. We will NOT align with potential traitors.” “Yet you allowed yourselves to align with Crow, the former Uldren Sov?” I flinch. I didn’t see that coming. “Take your hammers,” Zavala says, rising from his seat. “Bash those who possess the [REDACTED]. Wield your weapons like the towers you are.” “Oh, milord,” I smile, stand, and bow gracefully, my robes unfurling, my hands sparking with arc energy. “Thy will be done.” [i]-A discussion, from the Halls of Steel[/i]

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