Lore:Tales of a Wanderer

"And my vanquisher will read that book, seeking the weapon, and they will come to understand me, where I have been and where I was going."The following is a verbatim transcription of an official document for archival reasons. As the original content is transcribed word-for-word, any possible discrepancies and/or errors are included.

Tales of a Wanderer is a Lore book introduced in Episode: Heresy. Entries are unlocked by completing Middlegame puzzles within the Unknown Antechamber. These entries contain Drifter's whereabouts during the investigation into the Echo of Navigation.

Lingering

He lingers in the entryway. It's the sort of lingering where you pretend nothing's changed—and it doesn't have to, as long as you never go in. Eris will always be just out of reach, but at least there, real in the apartment she barely used, in the City she defended but rarely saw.

It's a fool's dream. But what is he if not a fool? So he stays a little longer, sick with wishing.

Expanse

Cold out here. Reminds him—in a bad way—of that Light-forsaken planet he nearly died on.

He scuffles around the campsite. Pathetic, he knows it's pathetic. Even if people hadn't been through here, the storms would have blown over any footprints. Any lost trinkets would long since have been found or buried deep enough that he can't hope to find them.

Looking out on the desolate expanse doesn't do much for him, just leaves him alone with his feelings. Not a fun place to be. He moves on.

Schadenfreude

Sometimes it makes a guy feel better to make fun of someone way worse off than he is. He knows it's a mistake soon as he sets eyes on the giant robot face, though.

Maybe somewhere else. He turns and goes, ignoring the dramatic monologue already kicking off behind him.

Unfamiliar

Pretending everything's fine was never going to work. He says he's lost a shipment of new fancy guns to get a bunch of Guardians off his back and on a scavenger hunt for nonexistent weapons. Give him some peace and quiet. He takes a minute to rustle around in his stuff, grabbing what he might need for maybe a longer trip—

Not sure where he'd go, just not here—

He swears he can see Eris leaning against the railing, a sly little smile barely turning up the corners of her mouth. He can't stand it.

Restlessness

He swings by to let the man in charge know he's going to be out of town for a while. Guy'll understand. And it's a new level of responsible; Commander should appreciate that.

The place is empty, though. He wanders around it—sets the beads to clicking against each other, prods the gold figure on the side table until it falls over, meanders past books and blinks at the cat perched on a shelf over his head.

Nothing. He's restless. The longer he stands still, the longer the grief has to get its hooks into him. He mutters a curse into the silence and sees himself out.

Preparation

There's a hidden little nook in the Hangar, great spot for watching Sparrow maintenance if that's what you're into. Comfortable too. Good place to get away from the noise. He breezes in and out, rooting up a cache he left there a long time ago. Never could get out of the habit of keeping emergency stashes.

Anywhere else he needs to stop off before he leaves for good? Maybe… maybe.

It's a short hop from there to his ship.

Reconsidering

Getting out in the woods could clear his head. Maybe he shouldn't go after all.

Familiar energy readings. Not Darkness, not Light, but the in-between stuff. Sterile neutrinos. Makes him think of a time way back when: Moondust and him. And the arrival of the Pyramid fleet…

Committing

There's a little cliff that overlooks the cove's water. He settles there a spell. It's quiet. Not a lot of combat, few enough reasons for Guardians to swing through. The quiet doesn't so much remind him of her as make him wish she were there.

Everything's just going to keep doing that, huh. He can be honest with himself about that.

All right. One last stop.

Reminiscing

He goes into her apartment this time. Not to look through her things, really, just—prove it to himself. She's not there. She won't be. He's got to remember that.

He brushes his fingers along a side table and tries to imagine what she'd say to him.

Imagining

Probably it'd be something deep and meaningful. He doesn't have the heart to think it up. He steps into the other room, moves around the table covered in books and relics. Almost trips on the rug.

Final Curtain

Someone else finds him there.

He sees himself out, mouth stinging as he takes the stairs. That's it, then. There's nothing for him here. And he was a fool to think there was.

Time to go.