Grimoire:Inventory

The following is a list of Inventory entries for the Grimoire:

==Primary Weapons==

Auto Rifles
All-purpose weapons of war, the standard Auto Rifle is ideal for a number of combat scenarios. Stability is key to controlling fully automatic weapons. Kill 2500 enemy to get rank 1 + 5 glimoir score Kill 5000 enemy to get rank 2 + 5 glimoir score "All characters will earn weapon experience faster for weapons of this type." Kill 10000 enemy to get rank 3 + 5 glimoir score

Suros Regime
''Nostalgia as a weapon of war. Style as a hallmark of victory.''

Suros engineers designed the Regime using recovered Golden Age schematics. Forced out of production by a crippling shortage of smartmatter, the few remaining models are cherished by those Guardians fortunate enough to wield them.

Hard Light
''Ionized polymer synballistic attack platform. The system's lethality is dynamically robust across tactical spaces.''

As the City's understanding of Golden Age methods expands, foundries continue to push the cutting edge of tactical armament. The Hard Light prototype is a showcase, built with the rarest recovered materials and the most computationally demanding design methods. The design team included several specialist Exos and at least one Warlock thanatonaut.

In its current iteration, the Hard Light design fires a superheated polymer round with exotic capabilities.

Scout Rifles
The preferred weapon of seasoned marksmen, the Scout Rifle is a single-shot precision firearm. Favoring accuracy above all else, the Scout Rifle packs increased stopping power to counter its low rate of fire.

kill 2500 enemy to get rank 1 + 5 glimoir score Kill 5000 enemy to get rank 2 + 5 glimoir score "All characters will earn weapon experience faster for weapons of this type." Kill 10000 enemy to get rank 3 + 5 glimoir score

MIDA Multi-Tool
''Select application: Ballistic engagement. Entrenching tool. Avionics trawl. Troll smasher. Stellar sextant. List continues.''

Few weapons are balanced this precisely. Once you get a feel for the Multi-Tool it will sit weightlessly in your hand. Firing it will feel less like an action and more like an extension of your will.

Pulse Rifles
The Pulse Rifle is designed for precision fire and tight shot grouping. Three-round bursts provide added punch with reduced recoil compared to fully automatic weapons. Skilled shooters often walk the burst from the target's center of mass onto the head.

Bad Juju
 "If you believe your weapon wants to murder all existence, then so it will."

- Toland the Shattered

There must be a structured, mechanical explanation for this weapon's hunger for combat. There must be. But none has been found.

Red Death
''Vanguard policy urges Guardians to destroy this weapon on sight. It is a Guardian killer.''

Only rumors tell of the mad Guardian who fashioned this butcher's tool. But its power is undeniable, and fear is a formidable weapon.

Hand Cannons
Sturdy and reliable, Hand Cannons have long been a preferred tool for self-defense. Their low rate of fire and modest accuracy is more than made up for by their ease of handling and superior stopping power.

Hawkmoon
Stalk thy prey and let loose thy talons upon the Darkness

The Hawkmoon is a true gunslinger's weapon - a smooth sidearm that makes every bullet count...some more than others.

The Last Word
"Yours...not mine."

- Renegade Hunter Shin Malphur to Dredgen Yor during the showdown at Dwindler's Ridge

The Last Word is a romantic weapon, a throwback to simpler times when steady aim and large rounds were enough to dispense justice in the wilds of a lawless frontier. Of course, some might say that time has come again.

Ghost Fragment: The Last Word
I'm writing this from memory - some mine, but not all. The facts won't sync with the reality, but they'll be close, and there's no one to say otherwise, so for all intents and purposes, this will be the history of a settlement we called Palamon and the horrors that followed an all too brief peace.

I remember home, and stories of a paradise we'd all get to see some day - of a City, "shining even in the night." Palamon didn't shine, but it was sanctuary, of a sort.

We'd settled in the heart of a range that stretched the horizon. Wooded mountains that shot with purpose toward the sky. Winters were harsh, but the trees and peaks hid us from the world. We talked about moving on, sometimes, striking out for the City. But it was just a longing.

Drifters came and went. On occasion they would stay, but rarely. We had no real government, but there was rule of law. Basic tenets agreed upon by all and eventually overseen by Magistrate Loken.

And there you have it...no government, until there was. I was young, so I barely understood. I remember Loken as a hardworking man who just became broken. Mostly I think he was sad. Sad and frightened. As his fingers tightened on Palamon, people left. Those who stayed saw our days became grey. Loken's protection - from the Fallen, from ourselves - became dictatorial.

Looking back, I think maybe Loken had just lost too much - of himself, his family. But everyone lost something. And some of us had nothing to begin with. My only memory of my parents is a haze, like a daydream, and a small light, like the spark of their souls. It's not anything I dwell on. They left me early, taken by Dregs.

Palamon raised me from there. The family I call my own - called my own - cared for me as if I was their natural born son. And life was good. Being the only life I knew, my judgment is skewed, and it wasn't easy - pocked by loss as it was - but I would call it good.

Until, of course, it wasn't.

Until two men entered my world. One a light. The other the darkest shadow I would ever know.

Ghost Fragment: The Last Word 2
The man I would come to know as Jaren Ward, my third father and quite possibly my closest friend, came to Palamon from the south. I was just a boy, but I'll never forget his silhouette on the empty trail as he made his slow walk into town.

I'd never seen anything like him. Maybe none of us had. He'd said he was only passing through, and I believed him - still do, but life can get in the way of intent, and often does.

I can picture that day with near perfect clarity. Of all the details though - every nuance, every moment - the memory that sticks in my mind is the iron on Jaren's hip. A cannon that looked both pristine and lived in. Like a relic of every battle he'd ever fought, hung low at his waste - a trophy and a warning.

This man was dangerous, but there was a light about him - a pureness to his weight - that seemed to hint that his ire was something earned, not carelessly given.

I'd been the first to see him as he approached, but soon most of Palamon had turned out to greet him. My father held me back as everyone stood in silence.

Jaren didn't make a sound behind his sleek racer's helmet. He looked just like the heroes in the stories, and to this day I'm not sure one way or the other if the silence between the town's people and the adventurer was born of fear or respect. I like to think the latter, but any truth I try to place on the moment would be of my own making.

As we waited for Magistrate Loken to arrive and make an official greeting, my patience got the best of me. I shook free of my father's heavy hand and made the short sprint across the court, stopping a few paces from where this new curiosity stood - a man unlike any other.

I stared up at him and he lowered his attention to me, his eyes hidden behind the thick tinted visor of his headgear. My sight quickly fell to his sidearm. I was transfixed by it. I imagined all the places that weapon had been. All of the wonders it had seen. The horrors it had endured. My imagination darted from one heroic act to the next.

I barely registered when he began to kneel, holding out the iron as if an offering. But my eyes locked onto the piece, mesmerized.

I recall turning back to my father and seeing the looks on the faces of everyone I knew. There was worry there - my father slowly shaking his head as if pleading with me to ignore the gift.

I turned back to the man I would come to know as Jaren Ward, the finest Hunter this system may ever know and one of the greatest Guardians to ever defend the Traveler's Light...

And I took the weapon in my hand. Carefully. Gently.

Not to use. But to observe. To imagine. To feel its weight and know its truth.

That was the first time I held "Last Word," but, unfortunately, not the last.

Ghost Fragment: The Last Word 3
It was the fourth night of the seventh moon.

Nine rises since any sign.

Trail wasn't cold, but lukewarm would've been an exaggeration.

Jaren had us hold by a ravine.

The heavy wood along the cliffs' edge caught the wind, holding back the cold and the rush of water muffled our conversation.

We'd seen dual Skiffs hanging low as they cut through the valley.

Wasn't known Fallen territory, but anymore that's a dangerous assumption.

There were six of us then.

Three less than two moons prior, but still, one more than when we'd first turned our backs to Palamon's ash.

We took a rotation for watch during the night.

Movement was kept to a minimum and communication was down to hand signals and simple gestures.

We could hold our own in a fight, but only the dead went looking for one—a hard truth that cut in direct opposition to our reasons for being so far from anything resembling civilization, much less our safety.

The Skiffs had spooked Kressler and Nada, and, in truth, me as well. But, looking back, I think we were all just grasping for any good reason to turn back.

Not because we would—turn back—but because it seemed to be our only real hope, and I think we all knew it.

Forward. Where we were headed—into the unknown. And following the footsteps we were. It all just started to feel like a never-ending dead end after a while.

Jaren never wavered though. Not once.

At least not to any noticeable degree.

It was his drive, his conviction, that kept us going.

And—it's hard to think on—but if I'm honest, it was his death that rekindled my own fire. A fire that was all but exhausted on that cold night.

He seemed confident we were close.

But more than confident—sure. He seemed sure.

No one else felt it—our own confidence, and any enthusiasm we'd had was set to wither soon as Brevin, Trenn and Mel were gunned down.

The Ghost—Jaren's Ghost—never said a word to any of us. Just hung there. Always alert. Always judging. Not us, per se, but the moment. Any moment.

I never got the sense it thought of us as lesser. More that it was guarded, wary.

We knew it could speak. We'd overheard them a few times. Just brief words, and no one ever pressed the subject.

From time to time I caught its gaze lingering on me, but always assumed the attention was a result of the bond Jaren and I had. He was a father to me. At the time I didn't know why he'd singled me out as someone to care for. Someone to protect. After all the loss, I welcomed it, but looking back—taking in the arm's length at which he kept the others—I guess I should've known, or at least suspected there was more to it.

We all woke that night, closer to morning than the previous day.

A crack of gunfire split through the wood. Then more.

Far off, but near enough to pump the blood.

A familiar ring. "Last Word." Jaren's sidearm. His best friend. Then another. A single shot, an unmistakable echo calling through the night. Hushed, cutting.

One shot, dark and infernal. Followed by silence.

We crouched low and quiet. Listening. Hoping.

Jaren was gone. Off on his own.

Maybe we were closer than we'd allowed ourselves to believe.

Too close.

He'd gone to face death alone.

I couldn't admit it—not at the time—but he thought he was protecting us.

After such a long road—years on its heels, a trail littered with suffering and fire—maybe he just couldn't take the thought of anymore dead "kids," as he called us.

The echoes faded and we all held still. No way to track the direction. No sense in rushing blind.

What was done was done.

The cadence of the shots fired told a story none of us cared to hear.

"Last Word" it hadn't been. And somewhere in the world, close enough for us to bear absent witness but far enough to be a dream, Jaren Ward lay dead or dying. And there was nothing to be done.

Hours passed. An eternity.

We held our spot, but as the sun rose the others began to fade back into the world. Without Jaren there was nothing holding us together. No driving force. Vengeance had grown stale as a motivator. Fear and a longing to see more suns rise drove a wedge between duty and desire.

By midday I was alone. I couldn't leave. Wouldn't.

Either I would find Jaren and set him at ease, or the other would find me and that would be a fitting end.

Death marching on.

But then, a motion. Quick and darting. My muscles tensed and my hand shot to the grip of my leadslinger.

Then a confirmation of the horrible truth I had already accepted, as Jaren's Ghost came to a halt a few paces in front of me.

I exhaled and slumped forward. Still standing, but broken. The tiny Light looked me over with a curious tilt to its axis, then shot a beam of light over my body. Scanning me as it had done the very first time we met.

I looked up. Staring into its singular glowing eye.

And it spoke...

Necrochasm
"Eternity is very close. Can you feel yourself slipping?"

The Weapons of Sorrow were believed to be nothing more than a myth. But even the darkest myths are born of some truths, and whispers of the Necrochasm have long filled the Light with dread.

It is said the Necrochasm was born in the twilight after Crota’s sword first cracked the Moon. That a lost Guardian’s weapon was altered by the Hive in an attempt to fuse their own dark understanding with humanity’s mastery of war. The result was a weapon that would feed on its owner’s aggression—reaching further when angry eyes drew focus, its hunger rising as it tore through bone and flesh.

Any Guardian who comes across the weapon must ask some very simple questions with endlessly complicated answers: Is your Light bright enough to stand, even briefly, in full gaze of the Hive's abyss? Can it handle what has died and been reborn in those shadows?

Thorn
"To rend one's enemies is to see them not as equals, but objects - hollow of spirit and meaning."

- 13th Understanding, 7th Book of Sorrow

Augmented through dark practices, Thorn was once a hero's weapon. Its jagged frame hints at a sinister truth: a powerful connection to the unutterable sorceries of the Hive.

The legend of Thorn is bound to the rise and fall of Dredgen Yor, a Guardian whose name is remembered with disgust and shame. The weapon was thought destroyed...but rumors of its existence still haunt the wilds.

Ghost Fragment: Thorn
The Rose

The noble man stood. And the people looked to him. For he was a beacon - hope given form, yet still only a man. And within that truth there was great promise. If one man could stand against the night, then so too could anyone - everyone.

In his strong hand the man held a Rose. And his aura burned bright.

When the man journeyed on, the people remembered. In his wake hope spread. But the man had a secret fear. His thoughts were dark. A sadness crept from the depths of his being. He had been a hero for so long, but pride had led him down sorrow's road.

Slowly the shadows' whisper became a voice, a dark call, offering glories enough to make even the brightest Light wander. He knew he was fading, yet he still yearned.

On his last day he sat and watched the sun fall. His final thoughts, pure of mind, if not body, held to a fleeting hope - though they would suffer for the man he would become, the people would remember him as he had been.

And so the noble man hid himself beneath a darkness no flesh should touch, and gave up his mortal self to claim a new birthright. Whether this was choice, or destiny, is a truth known only to fate.

In that cool evening air, as dusk was devoured by night, the noble man ceased to exist. In his place another stood.

Same meat. Same bone. But so very different.

The first and only of his family. The sole forbearer and last descendent of the name Yor.

In his first moments as a new being, he looked down at his Rose and realized for the first time that it held no petals: only the jagged purpose of angry thorns.

Ghost Fragment: Thorn 2
The Bloom

TYPE: Transcript. DESCRIPTION: Conversation.

PARTIES: Four [4]. Three [3] unidentified [u.1, u.2, u.3], One [1] unconfirmed.

ASSOCIATIONS: Breaklands; Durga; Last Word; Malphur, Shin; North Channel; Palamon; Thorn; Velor; Ward, Jaren; WoS; Yor, Dredgen;

//AUDIO UNAVAILABLE//

//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../

[u.1:0.1] Can I see what you got there?

[silence]

[u.1:0.2] Yer cannon...can I see it?

[beat]

[u.2:0.1] I know you?

[beat]

[u.1:0.3] Not that I can say.

[u.2:0.2] And you wanna hold my piece?

[beat]

[u.1:0.4] Just that I never...seen one like it.

[beat]

[u.2:0.3] No, you haven't.

[u.1:0.5] Looks dangerous.

[u.2:0.4] Seems, maybe, that's the point.

[u.1:0.6] Suppose so.

[u.1:0.7] Can I see it?

[u.2:0.5] Not likely.

[silence]

[u.1:0.8] Where'd...where'd you find it?

[silence]

[u.1:0.9] You hearin' me?

[silence]

[u.3:0.1] He asked you question.

[silence]

[u.2:0.6] Didn't find it. Made it.

[u.1:1.0] Heh. Helluva touch you got then. You a 'smith?

[u.2:0.7] I look like a 'smith?

[u.1:1.1] Looks can be deceiving.

[u.2:0.8] Got that right.

[u.1:1.2] There a problem?

[u.2:0.9] Doesn't need to be.

[u.1:1.3] Glad we got that cleared up...Now, about that piece.

[silence]

[u.2:1.0] Been to Luna?

[u.1:1.4] Excuse me?

[u.2:1.1] The Moon. You been?

[u.1:1.5] Nobody's been.

[u.2:1.2] That a truth?

[u.1:1.6] That's a fact.

[u.2:1.3] Funny you'd make that distinction.

[u.1:1.7] Truth is you must think you're some kinda something special. With that attitude. The way you're just dismissin' us like you we're nothing...like we ain't even here.

[u.1:1.8] Fact is...You ain't near as rock solid as you figure. Fact is, special's only special 'til it's not.

[silence]

[u.2:1.4] The bones say otherwise.

[u.1:1.9] Speak straight.

[u.2:1.5] You say "nobody." Bones say otherwise.

[u.1:2.0] What bones?

[u.2:1.6] All of them.

[u.1:2.1] What're you gettin' at?

[u.2:1.7] Too many to count.

[u.1:2.2] You trying to get a rile outta us? Was only making conversation.

[u.2:1.8] You really weren't.

[u.4:0.1] We got a smart one here.

[u.2:1.9] Experienced more than smart. But experience has its advantages.

[u.1:2.3] Experience tell you to lip off to strangers just tryin' to make talk?

[u.2:2.0] Keep insisting and maybe we will.

[u.1:2.4] Talk?

[u.2:2.1] Have words.

[u.1:2.5] Ain't that what we're doin'?

[u.2:2.2] My conversations tend to be a bit louder.

[silence]

[u.1:2.6] That a threat.

[u.2:2.3] A truth.

[u.1:2.7] Who the hell you think you are?

[u.2:2.4] According to your facts, "nobody." Yet, here I sit.

[u.1:2.8] Don't matter much how pretty yer cannon is. You keep it up, we'll see just how loud you like to get.

[silence]

[u.1:2.9] You done talkin' now? Guess he knows his place, boys.

[u.2:2.5] Ever have a nightmare?

[u.1:3.0] You playin' games? Or just thick?

[u.2:2.6] I know you have. This world? Can't help, but.

[u.1:3.1] I don't have nightmares. I give 'em.

[u.2:2.7] You are a goddamn cliché. The picture perfect bandit.

[u.2:2.8] Hearing your voice - the things you're saying, the shade of the hard man you pretend to be...

[u.1:3.2] Ain't no shade.

[audible crack]

[audible crack]

[audible crack]

[silence]

[u.2:2.8] Sit down.

[silence]

[u.2:3.0] Sit. Down.

[u.2:3.1] Your mouth just got your friends dead.

[u.2:3.2] This is what happens when you bore me. And right now...

[u.2:3.3] I'm so very bored.

[u.1:3.3] Wha...No listen...

[u.2:3.4] Shhhhh.

[u.1:3.4] But...but...you're a...you're one of them...A Guardian, right?

[u.1:3.5] You're supposed t'be one'a the good ones.

[u.2:3.5] "Supposed to be?" Maybe I am. Maybe this is what "good" looks like.

[u.2:3.6] Anymore, who can tell?

[u.1:3.6] I...

[u.2:3.7] You wanted to see my prize.

[u.1:3.7] No...I...

[u.2:3.8] Look at it.

[u.1:3.8] I...

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:3.9] Whimpering won't stop what comes next.

[u.2:4.0] Look...

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:4.1] Look at it.

[u.2:4.2] Open your eyes.

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:4.3] Not many get such a clean view.

[u.2:4.4] The bone...You see it. Jagged, like thorns.

[u.2:4.5] I used to think of it as a rose...

[u.2:4.6] Focusing on its bloom.

[u.2:4.7] But the bloom is just a byproduct of its anger.

[silence]

[u.2:4.8] You have nightmares?

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:4.9] Ever seen a nightmare? Ever opened your eyes and realized the horror wasn't a dream? The terror wasn't gone?

[u.2:5.0] I've seen nightmares.

[u.2:5.1] They live in the shadows.

[u.2:5.2] They've been watching.

[u.2:5.3] I thought...It's foolish, I know...but I thought I saw a way.

[u.2:5.4] That maybe we could win. Maybe we could survive.

[u.2:5.5] But once you step into those shadows, it's so very hard to walk in the Light.

[u.2:5.6] Or...maybe I just wasn't strong enough.

[u.2:5.7] Maybe.

[u.2:5.8] But I feel strong now.

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:5.9] I stole the dark.

[u.2:6.0] Or, maybe it stole me.

[u.2:6.1] Either way, here we are.

[u.2:6.2] And I'm hungry.

[u.2:6.3] Its hungry.

[u.2:6.4] You have no Light beyond the spark of your pathetic life.

[u.2:6.5] But a spark is something.

[audible sobbing]

[u.2:6.6] Open your eyes.

[audible sobbing]

[audible sobbing]

[audible crack]

[silence]

[silence]

[silence]

/...END TRANSCRIPT///

Shotguns
There are few weapons that offer the comfort and familiarity of a shotgun. Built for close quarters combat, they provide immediate, violent conflict resolution.

Universal Remote
''To the untrained eye this beast is a junker. To the trained eye, however, this junker...is a beast.''

It took great care, and an incredible feat of fine-tuning, to craft a weapon that packs a close-quarters punch, yet has the range of a precision rifle. Universal Remote is that weapon.

Invective
"I tried to talk them down. They made a grab for my Ghost. After that it was a short conversation."

- Ikora Rey

Invective was Ikora Rey's weapon of choice during her younger, more rebellious days. An ideal fallback for situations that can't be solved by wit, quick talk, or pure intimidation, this modified shotgun uses a self-replicating magazine to keep its owner well-stocked for any and all trouble that waits beyond the City.

The 4th Horseman
''“It’s not a holdout weapon. It’s a pathfinder.”''

One look at The 4th Horseman, and the care taken in crafting it, points to the old trophy-driven traditions of the hunt, but this blunt force destroyer wasn’t built for just any game. Its precision tuning allows for full-auto firing, while measured impact timing provides an extra kick at the tail end of each magazine—a needed fail safe designed specifically for the weapon’s intended prey, the biggest game in the system, the Cabal.

Fusion Rifles
Advancements in directed energy disbursement, gained through the discovery of Golden Age research, led to the creation of stable, field-ready energy-based weaponry. The first implementation of this technology comes in the form of the Fusion Rifle. Users must hold the trigger down for a few moments to charge the weapon before firing.

Pocket Infinity
"You cannot shake the feeling that this is less a weapon than a doorway."

Fireteam Tuyet died in the Ishtar Sink, hunting the secrets of the Vex. They must have come too close to something precious, for the Vex descended on them with their typical inscrutable, thorough violence.

But their sacrifice was not in vain. The data they gathered helped forge the Pocket Infinity. Properly modified, the weapon should be capable of devastating output on just a single charge cycle.

The Infinity's mechanisms have proven difficult, if not impossible, to replicate en masse. It is conceivable that the weapon draws its energy from the Vex networks...an ominous possibility. So be wary with it.

Plan C
''Good fighters have contingency plans. Great fighters don't need them.''

Sharp reflexes keep you alive on the frontier - but no matter how fast you are, a fusion rifle can only charge so quickly. Enter the Plan C. When you draw the weapon, fast-rise capacitors and a smart induction system prime for firing. The 'ready fire' state only lasts a few moments - but in a gunfight, those moments matter.

Vex Mythoclast
...a causal loop within the weapon's mechanism, suggesting that the firing process somehow binds space and time into...

Some legends live forever. Others are overwritten - reshaped by the sheer will of those who believe that any ordeal can be conquered, any foe vanquished, any god cast down.

The Mythoclast is a Vex instrument from some far-flung corner of time and space, mysteriously fit for human hands. Its origins, mechanism of action, and ultimate purpose remain unknown. Perhaps it will reveal itself to you, in time...

Sniper Rifles
The dangers present beyond the City's walls cannot always be met head-on. The accuracy and power of the Sniper Rifle offers the best option for precise ranged attacks. Caliber and make differ, but a good sniper can always remove key threats.

Patience and Time
If you've got it, they'll never see it coming.

Patience and Time is an assassin's dream. Enhanced sensor integration allows for target tracking while aiming down the sight, and those who work with the weapon and explore its deeper capabilities will find light-bending camouflage systems ready to interface with a Guardian's armor micromaterials.

Ice Breaker
''Please replace these components if use causes fatal damage: HEAT SINK. MAGAZINE. OPERATOR''

The Ice Breaker series was a clandestine project developed by the Vanguard in conjunction with various City weapons foundries. Meant as an exploration of Golden Age weapon technology, the project was scrapped after only a single weapon reached the testing phase.

The prototypes for the project's lone weapon are considered dangerous and unfit for field duty by the Vanguard. This hasn't stopped daring Guardians from seeking out the Ice Breakers - death, after all, is an occupational hazard.

No Land Beyond
Every hit blazes the path to our reclamation.

Rumors of this weapon's existence sent many a Guardian clawing through the corners of Old Russia, seeking its legend. Some believe its origins predate the Golden Age and served to liberate the old Earth nation from a terrible cycle of war.

Others believe it a Golden Age relic built to honor the sniper and their artful approach to battle—to lean on the sole power of the long rifle, nest where the enemy cannot see, trust in the power of calm and know there is nowhere to fall back to.

Rocket Launchers
Rocket Launchers have a limited, devastating payload that provides an excellent countermeasure to heavily-armored ground forces and combat vehicles. There is no better battlefield equalizer. Skilled users often aim for the ground beneath nimble targets.

Gjallarhorn
"If there is beauty in destruction, why not also in its delivery?"

- Feizel Crux

The Gjallarhorn shoulder-mounted rocket system was forged from the armor of Guardians who fell at the Twilight Gap. Gifted to the survivors of that terrible battle, the Gjallarhorn is seen as a symbol of honor and survival.

Truth
"...is where you seek it."

- Lomar

Truth is a cutting-edge rocket launcher developed by Crux/Lomar. Smart warheads calculate and understand the user's intent upon firing.

There may have been a time when warfare in the solar system was dominated by lightning-quick AI weapons and swarms of autonomous munitions. If so, that time is past. The Traveler's Light has given rise to an age of heroes with undreamt power. But there is still a place for cleverly designed machines - and as the City's foundries reclaim the technical prowess of the Golden Age, our machines will become cleverer still.

Dragon's Breath
''Burn the world. Burn it all.''

From the labs of Feizel Crux and Victor Lomar comes another shoulder assault offering built to match the incendiary fury of a legendary beast — or at least classic depictions of it.

Carrying three rockets, each equipped with Solar Flare detonators, its power is believed to far outmatch those of the mythical flying monster, but we're still hoping an actual showdown between the two will put an end to that argument.

Machine Guns
The Machine Gun is an unapologetic weapon of war. Its ability to carry and process large quantities of high-caliber ammunition allows for sustained, focused attacks, making them ideal for the suppression and/or annihilation of hostile forces.

Super Good Advice
This weapon is full of it.

This machine gun's incredible mechanism hints at the wonders of Golden Age technology. Smart rounds report their trajectories to the weapon, and a midro-transmat protocol recalls missed shots to the magazine.

Engineers decry the idea that all smart systems spontaneously develop personalities and awareness... but it seems undeniable that Super Good Advice manifests personality, memory, and a certain sass. The truth may lie in the weapon's connection to the legendary Hunter Pahanin, who witnessed the fall of Kabr and became terrified of traveling alone.

Thunderlord
"They rest quiet on fields afar... for this is no ending, but the eye."

- Hymn of the Thunderlord

Customized with an experimental induction core, the Thunderlord is a heavy machine gun built for the delivery of sustained punishment.

The weapon's history and mechanism are both shrouded in ritualistic awe. Each round fired is another word in the legend - and the Guardians who bear the Thunderlord will be immortalized in song.

Arc
""A spark can give life...or take it.""

The universe is defined by fundamental forces. Complex matter is bound together by deep forces - and in the study of this binding lies the secret of Arc Light.

Solar
""Sometimes the only answer is to burn it all away.""

The universe is defined by fundamental forces. Energy is carried by quanta, tiny messengers of change. In the understanding of these messengers lies the secret of Solar Light.

Void
""It's fitting, then, that we have weaponized the unknown.""

The universe is defined by fundamental forces. Beneath the world of light and matter lies the vacuum, and the vast dark secrets that it contains. In the understanding of this vacuum lies the secret of Void Light.

Guardian Ships
"It is not enough to defend the City. We must reclaim the stars."

A rare and precious commodity, the jumpships utilized by Guardians are cobbled together from the salvaged wreckage of interplanetary ships built long ago. Only in recent years have the Tower's shipwrights begun working to build new hulls from the keel up. The City's factions are also keen to develop flight capability, whether through salvage or their own shipbuilding projects.

Today, it falls upon each individual Guardian to find and maintain their own craft. Those skilled enough to acquire a ship with off-world capabilities join the front line in the long war to retake what is ours.

Sparrow
"The shortest distance between two points is full throttle."

The Sparrow is a single-passenger, all-terrain thrust bike with one purpose: moving from objective to objective with unmatched speed.

Quick, quiet, and simple to transmat, Sparrows enjoy surpassing popularity among Guardians working in the field.

Glimmer
The programmable matter called 'Glimmer' serves as one of the City's basic currencies. With the right inputs and an energy source, Glimmer can be transmuted into nearly anything. This makes it precious to the City's industries and artisans. That value, in turn, makes Glimmer a useful means of exchange - especially with those who venture beyond the City's walls.

Glimmer passes through an economic life cycle. New Glimmer comes from reclaimed Golden Age caches and technology - whether a tiny mechanism or an underground lode seeded by ancient machines. This expansion of the Glimmer supply drives down the value of Glimmer. But Glimmer is also constantly used by the City's industry, which converts it into necessary components and materials. This sink helps keep Glimmer scarce, and therefore valuable.

Between this inflow and outflow lies the pool of liquidity - Glimmer used as trade currency. Master Rahool in the Tower, for example, sells recovered matter engrams in exchange for Glimmer, since he knows he can use Glimmer to acquire new engrams and keep them flowing to Guardians.

Newborn Guardians often complain that they should be issued high-quality gear for free - are they not, after all, fighting for the future of the City? Unfortunately, this gear requires resources to manufacture. Guardians must bring in enough Glimmer and other staples, like spinmetal and relic iron, to keep the engine of the City's economy turning. If good times lead to a resource boom, that surplus may help mass-produce advanced gear.

Vanguard Marks
When a terrible threat rises, Guardians look to the Vanguard, the closest thing they have to a command structure. These elite veterans coordinate the reports of roaming Hunters, the analyses of cloistered Warlocks, and the instincts of grizzled Titans into a single plan of action. And when Guardians fight as part of that plan, the Vanguard rewards them.

Vanguard Marks are tokens of favor that earn a trusted Guardian access to the Tower's armories. Listen carefully to the rumblings of Lord Shaxx, and you might come to believe that this system was meant to keep vital warfighting supplies from being wasted in the Crucible. Talk to Commander Zavala, and he will reassure you that the Vanguard Mark system exists for one reason: to get the best equipment into the hands of those who get the best results.

Guardians eager to win Vanguard Marks would do well to participate in Strike missions organized by the Vanguard.

Crucible Marks
The Crucible is a program of relentless live-fire training, hardening Guardians for battles to come. Competition thrives on risk and reward, so Lord Shaxx has seen fit to dispense Crucible Marks to those who excel.

Guardians with a name in the Crucible can spend these Marks on elite gear. Shaxx considers it fitting that the best should earn the best. The City's factions, fond of using the Crucible as an arena to advance their own interests, will also accept Crucible marks in exchange for their equipment.

Guardians eager to win Crucible Marks should fight in the Crucible, with particular attention to those challenges Lord Shaxx deems important.

Motes of Light
The Speaker has no interest in Glimmer, Marks, or the other currencies of the Tower's military functions. But he happily accepts these Motes, points of Light willed into being by an exercise of a mighty Guardian's power.

Some say they will one day become the souls of new Ghosts. Others believe they feed the intricate machinery that the Speaker tends. Whatever the case, the Speaker will happily reward donors with patterns and signs from his collection - more out of gratitude than any mercantile impulse.

Strange Coins
Each coin rings with a faint, sharp hush - as if it has touched the sounds around it with the edge of silence.

These could buy incredible things, in the right hands. Whispers say the faceless creature who sometimes comes to the Tower covets them above all else.

Upgrade Materials
As Guardians buy or salvage new equipment, they learn to tinker and improve. This work requires Glimmer and other material.

Some can be recycled from unneeded gear. Titans favor plasteel, which can be found by disassembling old equipment. Hunters unspool discarded armor into sapphire wire. Warlocks extract hadronic essence from dismantled fieldweave robes. And any Guardian with a sense for weaponry can disassemble old ordnance into weapon parts.

Other materials need to be scavenged on site, generally in the course of Patrols. The Cosmodrome in Old Russia is rich with spinmetal, a fantastically light and strong composite created by rogue colonies of Golden Age machinery that escaped storage. Solar coil systems on the Moon still generate helium filaments. The baffling, possibly Vex-influenced flora of Venus grow spirit blooms. And the surface of Mars offers deposits of ultra-dense relic iron.

The most powerful Guardian equipment transcends ordinary science, entering the realm of Golden Age secrets and the Traveler's power itself. This wargear demands Ascendant Energy and Ascendant Shards - burning fragments of the universal fundament, earned through mighty acts of heroism. Look for them in daily Story challenges and Raids.