Grimoire:Allies/Legends & Mysteries: Difference between revisions

Line 7:

==Legend: The Black Garden==

[[File:Grimoire Legend The Black Garden.jpg|right|150px]]

I am Pujari. These are the visions I have had of the Black Garden.

I am [[Pujari]]. These are the visions I have had of the [[Black Garden]].

The Traveler moved across the face of the iron world. It opened the earth and stitched shut the sky. It made life possible. In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason.

The [[Traveler]] moved across the face of the iron world. It opened the earth and stitched shut the sky. It made life possible. In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason.

The Garden grows in both directions. It grows into tomorrow and yesterday. The red flowers bloom forever.

Line 15:

There are gardeners now. They came into the garden in vessels of bronze and they move through the groves in rivers of thought.

This is the vision I had when I leapt from the Shores of Time and let myself sink:

This is the vision I had when I leapt from the [[Shores of Time]] and let myself sink:

I walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words. They said things but I will not write them here.

At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light.

At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a [[Ghost]]. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was [[Light]].

The Ghost said to me: You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here. This is a place of life.

The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me.

The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of [[Darkness]]. You seek to deceive me.

But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt.

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==Ghost Fragment: Legends==

[[File:Grimoire GF Legends 1-3.jpg|right|150px]]

''Deep Stone Crypt''

''[[Deep Stone Crypt]]''

This is the tower where we were born. Not the Tower. Just a tower in a dream.

Line 59:

''NINE''

The Nine are survivors of the cis-Jovian colonies who made a compact with an alien force to ensure their own survival.

The [[Nine]] are survivors of the cis-Jovian colonies who made a compact with an alien force to ensure their own survival.

The Nine are deep-orbit warminds who weathered the Collapse in hardened stealth platforms.

The Nine are deep-orbit warminds who weathered the [[Collapse]] in hardened stealth platforms.

The Nine are ancient leviathan intelligences from the seas of Europa or the hydrocarbon pits of Titan.

The Nine are ancient leviathan intelligences from the seas of [[Europa]] or the hydrocarbon pits of [[Titan (moon)|Titan]].

The Nine arrived in a mysterious transmission from the direction of the Corona-Borealis supercluster.

The Nine are the firstborn Awoken and their minds now race down the field lines of the Jupiter-Io flux tube.

The Nine are the firstborn [[Awoken]] and their minds now race down the field lines of the [[Jupiter]]-[[Io]] flux tube.

The Nine are Ghosts who pierced the Deep Black without a ship and meditated on the hissing silence of the heliopause.

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==Ghost Fragment: Legends 3==

[[File:Grimoire GF Legends 1-3.jpg|right|150px]]

''The Great Ahamkara Hunt''

''The [[Great Ahamkara Hunt]]''

After great deliberation it was determined that the Ahamkara be made extinct.

Line 133:

==Mystery: The Fate of Skolas==

[[File:Grimoire Mystery Fate of Skolas.jpg|right|150px]]

The cell cracks open. Skolas, Wolf Kell, stumbles out and crashes to his knees.

The cell cracks open. [[Skolas, Kell of Kells|Skolas]] Wolf Kell, stumbles out and crashes to his knees.

He tries to leap at the creature before him, the shape in the fog, to show it why it should be afraid. But the weight of grief smashes his legs against the cell. The rage upon him beats him to the floor. He falls on all four hands, his mighty armor thundering against itself.

His House of Wolves is enslaved! His people have been played! And it was his hubris, his would-be cunning that did it! While the other Houses fought for their future on Earth, throwing themselves at the Great Machine, Skolas wasted his people in games of betrayal and ambition. Bitter pride brought a bitter end!

His [[House of Wolves]] is enslaved! His people have been played! And it was his hubris, his would-be cunning that did it! While the other Houses fought for their future on Earth, throwing themselves at the Great Machine, Skolas wasted his people in games of betrayal and ambition. Bitter pride brought a bitter end!

If Skolas were a Kell he would ask his Archon to dock him. Ether hisses in his mask and it tastes cold, so cold.

He looks up. At the tiny hooded shape before him. The cell's mist is clearing. He can see.

He looks up. At the [[Xûr, Agent of the Nine|tiny hooded shape]] before him. The cell's mist is clearing. He can see.

"I believe that I am here," the creature says. To Skolas' ears it has a strange voice, a strange accent. It speaks his language. "I have a clear purpose. I cannot explain it. Forgive me."

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"The Nine made me aware of my purpose," the creature says. "If am here, then it is because the Queen sent you to the Nine, and they wish you sent back."

"I will do no one else's work." Skolas has been a pawn long enough. A Dreg told him, once, that she would play in a game as long as the game made sense. Nothing makes sense now except the thought of Variks' throat shattering in his fists. Variks! Variks the utterly disloyal, Variks who should be welded into a Ketch's prow atom by atom and left there as a figurehead to burn away.

"I will do no one else's work." Skolas has been a pawn long enough. A Dreg told him, once, that she would play in a game as long as the game made sense. Nothing makes sense now except the thought of [[Variks, The Loyal|Variks]]' throat shattering in his fists. Variks! Variks the utterly disloyal, Variks who should be welded into a Ketch's prow atom by atom and left there as a figurehead to burn away.

"I am comfortable," the creature with the moving face says. "A part of me wants to go somewhere warm. Now I will certainly tell you what you have been given."

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''Twilight's End''

He could feel his light draining. He pulled all of it into one last hope.

[[Saint-14|He]] could feel his light draining. He pulled all of it into one last hope.

He reeled back and bam!

Line 184:

The Devils without a Kell. This war was over, at last. They could finally go home.

“We are. Get me the Speaker.”

“We are. Get me the [[Speaker]].”

“Opening his channel. Stand by.”

Line 190:

“Is that you, my son?” The Speaker’s voice was filled more with anticipation of news than concern.

“It is, father. The Devil Kell Solkis... is dead. This war is over.”

“It is, father. The Devil Kell [[Solkis, Devil Kell|Solkis]]... is dead. This war is over.”

“Such courage and power—the greatest ever to brace these worlds. You bring all of us peace, we will light the final flare, Devil Red. They will all know what you've done.”

Line 200:

“There is something concerning you? More Fallen march on the City?”

“No, not this time. I have word that Osiris was seen on Mercury. The Caloris Basin. He’s turned his mind back to the Vex.”

“No, not this time. I have word that [[Osiris]] was seen on [[Mercury]]. The [[Caloris Basin]]. He’s turned his mind back to the [[Vex]].”

“Mercury? Too many channels to know. You activate one, you start to feed its veins. He threatens our peace.”

Line 244:

A convoy of Guardian craft, hundreds strong. Ships of all sizes and shapes can be seen, from venerable craft that have been salvaged from the Golden Age through to City designs to vessels that have yet to emerge from the Shipwright's hangars.

The ships are battle-scarred. Many are barely spaceworthy. As warp drives wind down several seem to lose power and begin to drift. Some of the largest craft bear imagery familiar to frequent visitors to the tower: Dead Orbit symbols, the simple icon of the Vanguard. The New Monarchy and Future War Cult as well, though fewer examples can be seen. Others bear symbols never seen in the Tower to date.

The ships are battle-scarred. Many are barely spaceworthy. As warp drives wind down several seem to lose power and begin to drift. Some of the largest craft bear imagery familiar to frequent visitors to the tower: [[Dead Orbit]] symbols, the simple icon of the [[Vanguard]]. The [[New Monarchy]] and [[Future War Cult]] as well, though fewer examples can be seen. Others bear symbols never seen in the Tower to date.

Every single ship, from the largest cruiser to the smallest personal craft, carries shards of stone, remnants of the City and the Tower. Banners too, tattered and worn from entering and leaving warp.

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The receiver sputtered to life. It had taken him the better part of a decade to get his crude comm scanner working. And another few years to get it transmitting. Now, in the brief windows of time when the door to his cell opened, he would call for help. He sighed, a deliberate act that caused him to cough roughly. He had no idea how much longer his body would hold out. But then, that kind of thinking was all relative here, wasn't it?

Praedyth stared at the sprawling mass of metal and wires, listening to the tinny sounds coming from his makeshift speaker. Before he spoke, he always made a point to listen. The words, the concepts that flowed into his mind confused him. Timelines and potentialities that might have already happened, might happen, might never happen.

[[Praedyth]] stared at the sprawling mass of metal and wires, listening to the tinny sounds coming from his makeshift speaker. Before he spoke, he always made a point to listen. The words, the concepts that flowed into his mind confused him. Timelines and potentialities that might have already happened, might happen, might never happen.

A pattern was ever dancing in the edge of his vision. At times like this, when the world rushed past him, he had to hold tight to the fact that he was still breathing. He would often focus in on the intake, output, inbreath, outbreath, breath, breath, breath... hours later, he blinked. Refocused. The static had stopped. He had missed a window.

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''Before These Walls''

Rezyl Azzir was a man.

[[Dredgen Yor|Rezyl Azzir]] was a man.

In time his kind would be called Titan. Mountains of muscle and might and metal. His collar was fur and teeth. His person clad in ornate, golden-etched plating, trophies upon his shoulders.

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''War Without End''

— ~~Eksori’s~~ Ambush —

— [[Eksori]]’s Ambush —

His foot pressed hard to the sun-cracked ground. Beneath it the Vandal’s neck gave; a hiss of ether burst free before dissipating.

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This was the state of things; conflict as common as breath.

— The Tescan Valley Encounter —

— The [[Tescan Valley]]] Encounter —

A Ketch with unfamiliar markings hung low between two peaks. A rare sight. Fallen flagships weren’t known to linger so close to the surface, preferring constant motion, like sharks on the hunt.

A [[Ketch]] with unfamiliar markings hung low between two peaks. A rare sight. Fallen flagships weren’t known to linger so close to the surface, preferring constant motion, like sharks on the hunt.

Skiffs circled below the Ketch as their crews prepared to plunder any treasures the facility held.

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Rezyl looked back. “Go.”

“You can’t take a Ketch alone,” Hassa laughed.

“You can’t take a Ketch alone,” [[Hassa]] laughed.

“The ship isn’t my target,” Rezyl had a plan. Hassa hated Rezyl’s plans with equal parts envy and concern.

Line 357:

“Lead the Skiffs away,” he continued. “We’ll meet— ”

“Can’t meet if you’re dead,” Tover shot back.

“Can’t meet if you’re dead,” [[Tover]] shot back.

Rezyl smiled beneath his helm, “Go.”

Line 446:

Rezyl didn’t have to reply. If war was a constant, “never” was just an illusion.

— In Defense of North Channel —

— In Defense of [[North Channel]] —

Winds from the south caught the smoke and began to clear the thick air.

Line 519:

“We’ve woken nightmares.” Rezyl’s attention was singular; focused intently on the dark beyond the threshold.

“The Hive were supposed to be gone.” The Ghost mulled the full consequence of this mistaken belief. “They’ve been silent for—”

“The [[Hive]] were supposed to be gone.” The Ghost mulled the full consequence of this mistaken belief. “They’ve been silent for—”

“They’re not silent anymore.”

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Rezyl’s ears bled as she spoke.

"I am the end of 'morrows. Xyor, the Blessed. Xyor, the Betrothed. I am of the coming storm. These are not my words, but prophesy. Your Light will one day shatter and die. For now it simply offends... And you, dear, sweet, fragile thing, shall be made to suffer for your transgressions upon this holy ground."

"I am the end of 'morrows. [[Xyor, the Unwed|Xyor, the Blessed]]. Xyor, the Betrothed. I am of the coming storm. These are not my words, but prophesy. Your Light will one day shatter and die. For now it simply offends... And you, dear, sweet, fragile thing, shall be made to suffer for your transgressions upon this holy ground."

As the witch fell silent, her hateful voice was replaced by a growing chorus of hungry, manic chittering and the rising thunder of an approaching flood.

Line 598:

''He always survives.''

Helmet in one hand and torch in the other, Saladin Forge marches through the snow. He can sense the wolves emerge around him; only three of them come into view, but this group has followed him on his patrols since the Devils raided the Plaguelands. He has given up dissuading them. They’re defending their territory, and Saladin can relate to that. But they will not last long.

Helmet in one hand and torch in the other, [[Saladin Forge]] marches through the snow. He can sense the wolves emerge around him; only three of them come into view, but this group has followed him on his patrols since the Devils raided the [[Plaguelands]]. He has given up dissuading them. They’re defending their territory, and Saladin can relate to that. But they will not last long.

Nothing does. Not the Golden Age. Not the colony ships. Not the impenetrable walls of the Cosmodrome.

Nothing does. Not the [[Golden Age]]. Not the colony ships. Not the impenetrable walls of the [[Cosmodrome]].

Not the Iron Lords.

Not the [[Iron Lords]].

He discards his torch, and glances up to see a familiar glow reaching out from the dark. He smirks. A horde of Devil Splicers returns his stare from the wreckage of the wall ahead.

The Splicers are doomed. Just as the Iron Lords were, when he and his allies opened that vault. As Fallen continue to pour through the gap in the wall, they remind him of his friends in their final moment: a crimson pulse beats in place of their hearts. ''SIVA.''

The Splicers are doomed. Just as the Iron Lords were, when he and his allies opened that vault. As Fallen continue to pour through the gap in the wall, they remind him of his friends in their final moment: a crimson pulse beats in place of their hearts. ''[[SIVA]].''

He puts his helmet on as an Iron battle axe forms in his hand, the air around him bursting into flame. The first wave of dregs approaches. Saladin breaks into a charge, swinging the axe to bear as he smashes into a storm of steel and weapons fire.

As his axe bites, again and again, ~~Skorri’s~~ Iron Song haunts him. He calls upon ~~Radegast’s~~ strength. ~~Perun’s~~ sense of purpose. ~~Timur’s~~ questions. ~~Felwinter’s~~ cynicism. ~~Silimar’s~~ persistence. ~~Gheleon’s~~ reasoning.

As his axe bites, again and again, [[Skorri]]’s Iron Song haunts him. He calls upon [[Radegast]]’s strength. [[Perun]]’s sense of purpose. [[Timur]]’s questions. [[Felwinter]]’s cynicism. [[Silimar]]’s persistence. [[Gheleon]]’s reasoning.

~~Jolder’s~~ smile.

[[Jolder]]’s smile.

He pounds the last Splicer priest like a burning hammer, blasting a crater into the snow and gravel. Frozen dirt rains down on the spent shells and the mounds of Splicer corpses that surround him. The Warlocks of the City have described meditation to him. He imagines it feels like this.

Line 618:

''He always survives. When nothing else does.''

“Lord Saladin? What’s your status?” calls Shiro-4 through his audio feed.

“Lord Saladin? What’s your status?” calls [[Shiro-4]] through his audio feed.

“Just— Taking a walk,” he says, staring at the fifteen-foot divide he broke in the earth. He had to meet SIVA again. One last time.

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==The Shadows of Yor==

[[File:Grimoire The Shadows of Yor.jpg|right|150px]]

''From the Journal of Teben Grey''

''From the Journal of [[Dredgen Bane|Teben Grey]]''

They tried to hide the truth, but we’ve followed its winding path— pieced together the fragmented map of events across time and space.

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From the sickness inflicted upon the Crucible to the breaking of Light on the red sands.

From a forgotten settlement in the west to the horrors of North Channel and Velor.

From a forgotten settlement in the west to the horrors of North Channel and [[Velor]].

From the wilds of the Breaklands to the hateful cold of Durga.

Finally, then, to Dwindler’s Ridge, where Darkness met pure, angry fire.

Finally, then, to [[Dwindler’s Ridge]], where Darkness met pure, angry fire.

We’ve traced Yor’s steps from beginning to end and back again.

Line 848:

==Ghost Fragment: Lord Shaxx==

[[File:Grimoire Ghost Fragment Lord Shaxx.jpg|right|150px]]

“I beat you fair,” Cayde said. “Don’t ever—“

“I beat you fair,” [[Cayde-6|Cayde]] said. “Don’t ever—“

He raised his hand high to wag a finger under ~~Shaxx’s~~ nose.

He raised his hand high to wag a finger under [[Shaxx]]’s nose.

“—try to outrace my Golden Guns.”

Line 896:

Shaxx let out a breath, then scanned the field again, past child after squirming child. He quickly discerned the two on the field with the best athletic potential. Two human girls, snarling as they swung branches at each other, seemingly impervious to pain. He walked past them, through the crowd, and several elders paused just briefly enough in their youth wrangling to let their jaws hang. Lord Shaxx navigated the unruly sea with grace, and headed toward a lone tree in a corner of the field. An Awoken girl and a human boy sat huddled below it.

As Shaxx’s shadow eclipsed them, they looked up at him with the same brightness in their eyes. “What are your names?” he demanded. ~~“Runa~~,” said the Awoken with some disdain. She returned the blank stare of Shaxx’s faceplate. “My name is Lonwabo,” recited the human, more like a question than a statement.

As Shaxx’s shadow eclipsed them, they looked up at him with the same brightness in their eyes. “What are your names?” he demanded. “[[Runa]],” said the Awoken with some disdain. She returned the blank stare of Shaxx’s faceplate. “My name is [[Lonwabo]],” recited the human, more like a question than a statement.

“You look bored, Runa,” Shaxx observed. “And you look worried, Lonwabo.” He pointed at the boy, who scooted back, startled.

Line 1,002:

Intel source GREENRAVEN was right. And, for the moment, it’s worth assuming their report on the House of Exiles, House of Winter, and House of Wolves are also accurate. We’re fact-checking against independent fireteam reports from the field.

The kid all the SRL fans talk about — Marcus? He was in one of the fireteams out at the Cosmodrome. He pulled me aside, and said it to me straight: the Fallen Houses are gone. The siege is broken. The stalemate we’ve had with the Eliksni for what, a hundred years? It’s over. We won.

The kid all the SRL fans talk about — [[Marcus Ren|Marcus]]? He was in one of the fireteams out at the Cosmodrome. He pulled me aside, and said it to me straight: the Fallen Houses are gone. The siege is broken. The stalemate we’ve had with the Eliksni for what, a hundred years? It’s over. We won.

Commander, I’m not even sure they’re flying the banners anymore. The teams found huge mounds of burnt cloth and armor, ceremonial piles, in several of the most hardcore Fallen holdouts.

Line 1,011:

I believe your wisdom will guide us through the trials ahead.<br>

~~—Sloane~~

—[[Sloane]]

Line 1,026:

Because, in the stillness, there was another measured source of breathing in the room.

Eris Morn settled back into the chair, allowing the dark wisps of power she’d summoned to effortlessly flow from her back into the night. The green emanations from her shroud were stark against the dimness.

[[Eris Morn]] settled back into the chair, allowing the dark wisps of power she’d summoned to effortlessly flow from her back into the night. The green emanations from her shroud were stark against the dimness.

Almost as an afterthought, the Ghost turned from regarding the window. For a moment, three eyes stared at one, before it turned back to its watch.

Line 1,034:

His name was Asher Mir.

Irascible. Annoying. Cantankerous. She’d even seen Ikora Rey become... exasperated in his presence. Her lips quirked, very slightly, upwards. A kindred spirit, if she’d ever had one.

Irascible. Annoying. Cantankerous. She’d even seen [[Ikora Rey]] become... exasperated in his presence. Her lips quirked, very slightly, upwards. A kindred spirit, if she’d ever had one.

Her smile died as her gaze slid to his side. His Warlock garb had been stripped from his body, and she could see his pale blue chest as it rose and fell in the bed. His arm. His arm was gone.

In its place was a thing. The point where mechanicals knit with flesh was ghastly to behold, but the design was unmistakable to any Guardian who’d been in the field: Asher ~~Mir’s~~ arm was that of a Vex construct.

In its place was a thing. The point where mechanicals knit with flesh was ghastly to behold, but the design was unmistakable to any Guardian who’d been in the field: [[Asher Mir]]’s arm was that of a Vex construct.

Her eyes flicked to the ghost at the window. It too, was transformed. The unmistakable outline of Vex technology encrusting and penetrating the small warden’s shell. That red, staring eye...

Grimoire:Allies/Legends & Mysteries: Difference between revisions

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@@ Line 7: / Line 7: @@
 ==Legend: The Black Garden==
 [[File:Grimoire Legend The Black Garden.jpg|right|150px]]
-I am Pujari. These are the visions I have had of the Black Garden.
+I am [[Pujari]]. These are the visions I have had of the [[Black Garden]].
-The Traveler moved across the face of the iron world. It opened the earth and stitched shut the sky. It made life possible. In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason.
+The [[Traveler]] moved across the face of the iron world. It opened the earth and stitched shut the sky. It made life possible. In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason.
 The Garden grows in both directions. It grows into tomorrow and yesterday. The red flowers bloom forever.
@@ Line 15: / Line 15: @@
 There are gardeners now. They came into the garden in vessels of bronze and they move through the groves in rivers of thought.
-This is the vision I had when I leapt from the Shores of Time and let myself sink:
+This is the vision I had when I leapt from the [[Shores of Time]] and let myself sink:
 I walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words. They said things but I will not write them here.
-At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light.
+At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a [[Ghost]]. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was [[Light]].
 The Ghost said to me: You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here. This is a place of life.
-The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me.
+The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of [[Darkness]]. You seek to deceive me.
 But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt.
@@ Line 32: / Line 32: @@
 ==Ghost Fragment: Legends==
 [[File:Grimoire GF Legends 1-3.jpg|right|150px]]
-''Deep Stone Crypt''
+''[[Deep Stone Crypt]]''
 This is the tower where we were born. Not the Tower. Just a tower in a dream.
@@ Line 59: / Line 59: @@
 ''NINE''
-The Nine are survivors of the cis-Jovian colonies who made a compact with an alien force to ensure their own survival.
+The [[Nine]] are survivors of the cis-Jovian colonies who made a compact with an alien force to ensure their own survival.
-The Nine are deep-orbit warminds who weathered the Collapse in hardened stealth platforms.
+The Nine are deep-orbit warminds who weathered the [[Collapse]] in hardened stealth platforms.
-The Nine are ancient leviathan intelligences from the seas of Europa or the hydrocarbon pits of Titan.
+The Nine are ancient leviathan intelligences from the seas of [[Europa]] or the hydrocarbon pits of [[Titan (moon)|Titan]].
 The Nine arrived in a mysterious transmission from the direction of the Corona-Borealis supercluster.
-The Nine are the firstborn Awoken and their minds now race down the field lines of the Jupiter-Io flux tube.
+The Nine are the firstborn [[Awoken]] and their minds now race down the field lines of the [[Jupiter]]-[[Io]] flux tube.
 The Nine are Ghosts who pierced the Deep Black without a ship and meditated on the hissing silence of the heliopause.
@@ Line 80: / Line 80: @@
 ==Ghost Fragment: Legends 3==
 [[File:Grimoire GF Legends 1-3.jpg|right|150px]]
-''The Great Ahamkara Hunt''
+''The [[Great Ahamkara Hunt]]''
 After great deliberation it was determined that the Ahamkara be made extinct.
@@ Line 133: / Line 133: @@
 ==Mystery: The Fate of Skolas==
 [[File:Grimoire Mystery Fate of Skolas.jpg|right|150px]]
-The cell cracks open. Skolas, Wolf Kell, stumbles out and crashes to his knees.
+The cell cracks open. [[Skolas, Kell of Kells|Skolas]] Wolf Kell, stumbles out and crashes to his knees.
 He tries to leap at the creature before him, the shape in the fog, to show it why it should be afraid. But the weight of grief smashes his legs against the cell. The rage upon him beats him to the floor. He falls on all four hands, his mighty armor thundering against itself.
-His House of Wolves is enslaved! His people have been played! And it was his hubris, his would-be cunning that did it! While the other Houses fought for their future on Earth, throwing themselves at the Great Machine, Skolas wasted his people in games of betrayal and ambition. Bitter pride brought a bitter end!
+His [[House of Wolves]] is enslaved! His people have been played! And it was his hubris, his would-be cunning that did it! While the other Houses fought for their future on Earth, throwing themselves at the Great Machine, Skolas wasted his people in games of betrayal and ambition. Bitter pride brought a bitter end!
 If Skolas were a Kell he would ask his Archon to dock him. Ether hisses in his mask and it tastes cold, so cold.
-He looks up. At the tiny hooded shape before him. The cell's mist is clearing. He can see.
+He looks up. At the [[Xûr, Agent of the Nine|tiny hooded shape]] before him. The cell's mist is clearing. He can see.
 "I believe that I am here," the creature says. To Skolas' ears it has a strange voice, a strange accent. It speaks his language. "I have a clear purpose. I cannot explain it. Forgive me."
@@ Line 151: / Line 151: @@
 "The Nine made me aware of my purpose," the creature says. "If am here, then it is because the Queen sent you to the Nine, and they wish you sent back."
-"I will do no one else's work." Skolas has been a pawn long enough. A Dreg told him, once, that she would play in a game as long as the game made sense. Nothing makes sense now except the thought of Variks' throat shattering in his fists. Variks! Variks the utterly disloyal, Variks who should be welded into a Ketch's prow atom by atom and left there as a figurehead to burn away.
+"I will do no one else's work." Skolas has been a pawn long enough. A Dreg told him, once, that she would play in a game as long as the game made sense. Nothing makes sense now except the thought of [[Variks, The Loyal|Variks]]' throat shattering in his fists. Variks! Variks the utterly disloyal, Variks who should be welded into a Ketch's prow atom by atom and left there as a figurehead to burn away.
 "I am comfortable," the creature with the moving face says. "A part of me wants to go somewhere warm. Now I will certainly tell you what you have been given."
@@ Line 168: / Line 168: @@
 ''Twilight's End''
-He could feel his light draining. He pulled all of it into one last hope.
+[[Saint-14|He]] could feel his light draining. He pulled all of it into one last hope.
 He reeled back and bam!
@@ Line 184: / Line 184: @@
 The Devils without a Kell. This war was over, at last. They could finally go home.
-“We are. Get me the Speaker.”
+“We are. Get me the [[Speaker]].”
 “Opening his channel. Stand by.”
@@ Line 190: / Line 190: @@
 “Is that you, my son?” The Speaker’s voice was filled more with anticipation of news than concern.
-“It is, father. The Devil Kell Solkis... is dead. This war is over.”
+“It is, father. The Devil Kell [[Solkis, Devil Kell|Solkis]]... is dead. This war is over.”
 “Such courage and power—the greatest ever to brace these worlds. You bring all of us peace, we will light the final flare, Devil Red. They will all know what you've done.”
@@ Line 200: / Line 200: @@
 “There is something concerning you? More Fallen march on the City?”
-“No, not this time. I have word that Osiris was seen on Mercury. The Caloris Basin. He’s turned his mind back to the Vex.”
+“No, not this time. I have word that [[Osiris]] was seen on [[Mercury]]. The [[Caloris Basin]]. He’s turned his mind back to the [[Vex]].”
 “Mercury? Too many channels to know. You activate one, you start to feed its veins. He threatens our peace.”
@@ Line 244: / Line 244: @@
 A convoy of Guardian craft, hundreds strong. Ships of all sizes and shapes can be seen, from venerable craft that have been salvaged from the Golden Age through to City designs to vessels that have yet to emerge from the Shipwright's hangars.
-The ships are battle-scarred. Many are barely spaceworthy. As warp drives wind down several seem to lose power and begin to drift. Some of the largest craft bear imagery familiar to frequent visitors to the tower: Dead Orbit symbols, the simple icon of the Vanguard. The New Monarchy and Future War Cult as well, though fewer examples can be seen. Others bear symbols never seen in the Tower to date.
+The ships are battle-scarred. Many are barely spaceworthy. As warp drives wind down several seem to lose power and begin to drift. Some of the largest craft bear imagery familiar to frequent visitors to the tower: [[Dead Orbit]] symbols, the simple icon of the [[Vanguard]]. The [[New Monarchy]] and [[Future War Cult]] as well, though fewer examples can be seen. Others bear symbols never seen in the Tower to date.
 Every single ship, from the largest cruiser to the smallest personal craft, carries shards of stone, remnants of the City and the Tower. Banners too, tattered and worn from entering and leaving warp.
@@ Line 257: / Line 257: @@
 The receiver sputtered to life. It had taken him the better part of a decade to get his crude comm scanner working. And another few years to get it transmitting. Now, in the brief windows of time when the door to his cell opened, he would call for help. He sighed, a deliberate act that caused him to cough roughly. He had no idea how much longer his body would hold out. But then, that kind of thinking was all relative here, wasn't it?
-Praedyth stared at the sprawling mass of metal and wires, listening to the tinny sounds coming from his makeshift speaker. Before he spoke, he always made a point to listen. The words, the concepts that flowed into his mind confused him. Timelines and potentialities that might have already happened, might happen, might never happen.
+[[Praedyth]] stared at the sprawling mass of metal and wires, listening to the tinny sounds coming from his makeshift speaker. Before he spoke, he always made a point to listen. The words, the concepts that flowed into his mind confused him. Timelines and potentialities that might have already happened, might happen, might never happen.
 A pattern was ever dancing in the edge of his vision. At times like this, when the world rushed past him, he had to hold tight to the fact that he was still breathing. He would often focus in on the intake, output, inbreath, outbreath, breath, breath, breath... hours later, he blinked. Refocused. The static had stopped. He had missed a window.
@@ Line 276: / Line 276: @@
 ''Before These Walls''
-Rezyl Azzir was a man.
+[[Dredgen Yor|Rezyl Azzir]] was a man.
 In time his kind would be called Titan. Mountains of muscle and might and metal. His collar was fur and teeth. His person clad in ornate, golden-etched plating, trophies upon his shoulders.
@@ Line 321: / Line 321: @@
 ''War Without End''
-— Eksori’s Ambush —
+— [[Eksori]]’s Ambush —
 His foot pressed hard to the sun-cracked ground. Beneath it the Vandal’s neck gave; a hiss of ether burst free before dissipating.
@@ Line 335: / Line 335: @@
 This was the state of things; conflict as common as breath.
-— The Tescan Valley Encounter —
+— The [[Tescan Valley]]] Encounter —
-A Ketch with unfamiliar markings hung low between two peaks. A rare sight. Fallen flagships weren’t known to linger so close to the surface, preferring constant motion, like sharks on the hunt.
+A [[Ketch]] with unfamiliar markings hung low between two peaks. A rare sight. Fallen flagships weren’t known to linger so close to the surface, preferring constant motion, like sharks on the hunt.
 Skiffs circled below the Ketch as their crews prepared to plunder any treasures the facility held.
@@ Line 351: / Line 351: @@
 Rezyl looked back. “Go.”
-“You can’t take a Ketch alone,” Hassa laughed.
+“You can’t take a Ketch alone,” [[Hassa]] laughed.
 “The ship isn’t my target,” Rezyl had a plan. Hassa hated Rezyl’s plans with equal parts envy and concern.
@@ Line 357: / Line 357: @@
 “Lead the Skiffs away,” he continued. “We’ll meet— ”
-“Can’t meet if you’re dead,” Tover shot back.
+“Can’t meet if you’re dead,” [[Tover]] shot back.
 Rezyl smiled beneath his helm, “Go.”
@@ Line 446: / Line 446: @@
 Rezyl didn’t have to reply. If war was a constant, “never” was just an illusion.
-— In Defense of North Channel —
+— In Defense of [[North Channel]] —
 Winds from the south caught the smoke and began to clear the thick air.
@@ Line 519: / Line 519: @@
 “We’ve woken nightmares.” Rezyl’s attention was singular; focused intently on the dark beyond the threshold.
-“The Hive were supposed to be gone.” The Ghost mulled the full consequence of this mistaken belief. “They’ve been silent for—”
+“The [[Hive]] were supposed to be gone.” The Ghost mulled the full consequence of this mistaken belief. “They’ve been silent for—”
 “They’re not silent anymore.”
@@ Line 581: / Line 581: @@
 Rezyl’s ears bled as she spoke.
-"I am the end of 'morrows. Xyor, the Blessed. Xyor, the Betrothed. I am of the coming storm. These are not my words, but prophesy. Your Light will one day shatter and die. For now it simply offends... And you, dear, sweet, fragile thing, shall be made to suffer for your transgressions upon this holy ground."
+"I am the end of 'morrows. [[Xyor, the Unwed|Xyor, the Blessed]]. Xyor, the Betrothed. I am of the coming storm. These are not my words, but prophesy. Your Light will one day shatter and die. For now it simply offends... And you, dear, sweet, fragile thing, shall be made to suffer for your transgressions upon this holy ground."
 As the witch fell silent, her hateful voice was replaced by a growing chorus of hungry, manic chittering and the rising thunder of an approaching flood.
@@ Line 598: / Line 598: @@
 ''He always survives.''
-Helmet in one hand and torch in the other, Saladin Forge marches through the snow. He can sense the wolves emerge around him; only three of them come into view, but this group has followed him on his patrols since the Devils raided the Plaguelands. He has given up dissuading them. They’re defending their territory, and Saladin can relate to that. But they will not last long.
+Helmet in one hand and torch in the other, [[Saladin Forge]] marches through the snow. He can sense the wolves emerge around him; only three of them come into view, but this group has followed him on his patrols since the Devils raided the [[Plaguelands]]. He has given up dissuading them. They’re defending their territory, and Saladin can relate to that. But they will not last long.
-Nothing does. Not the Golden Age. Not the colony ships. Not the impenetrable walls of the Cosmodrome.
+Nothing does. Not the [[Golden Age]]. Not the colony ships. Not the impenetrable walls of the [[Cosmodrome]].
-Not the Iron Lords.
+Not the [[Iron Lords]].
 He discards his torch, and glances up to see a familiar glow reaching out from the dark. He smirks. A horde of Devil Splicers returns his stare from the wreckage of the wall ahead.
-The Splicers are doomed. Just as the Iron Lords were, when he and his allies opened that vault. As Fallen continue to pour through the gap in the wall, they remind him of his friends in their final moment: a crimson pulse beats in place of their hearts. ''SIVA.''
+The Splicers are doomed. Just as the Iron Lords were, when he and his allies opened that vault. As Fallen continue to pour through the gap in the wall, they remind him of his friends in their final moment: a crimson pulse beats in place of their hearts. ''[[SIVA]].''
 He puts his helmet on as an Iron battle axe forms in his hand, the air around him bursting into flame. The first wave of dregs approaches. Saladin breaks into a charge, swinging the axe to bear as he smashes into a storm of steel and weapons fire.
-As his axe bites, again and again, Skorri’s Iron Song haunts him. He calls upon Radegast’s strength. Perun’s sense of purpose. Timur’s questions. Felwinter’s cynicism. Silimar’s persistence. Gheleon’s reasoning.
+As his axe bites, again and again, [[Skorri]]’s Iron Song haunts him. He calls upon [[Radegast]]’s strength. [[Perun]]’s sense of purpose. [[Timur]]’s questions. [[Felwinter]]’s cynicism. [[Silimar]]’s persistence. [[Gheleon]]’s reasoning.
-Jolder’s smile.
+[[Jolder]]’s smile.
 He pounds the last Splicer priest like a burning hammer, blasting a crater into the snow and gravel. Frozen dirt rains down on the spent shells and the mounds of Splicer corpses that surround him. The Warlocks of the City have described meditation to him. He imagines it feels like this.
@@ Line 618: / Line 618: @@
 ''He always survives. When nothing else does.''
-“Lord Saladin? What’s your status?” calls Shiro-4 through his audio feed.
+“Lord Saladin? What’s your status?” calls [[Shiro-4]] through his audio feed.
 “Just— Taking a walk,” he says, staring at the fifteen-foot divide he broke in the earth. He had to meet SIVA again. One last time.
@@ Line 791: / Line 791: @@
 ==The Shadows of Yor==
 [[File:Grimoire The Shadows of Yor.jpg|right|150px]]
-''From the Journal of Teben Grey''
+''From the Journal of [[Dredgen Bane|Teben Grey]]''
 They tried to hide the truth, but we’ve followed its winding path— pieced together the fragmented map of events across time and space.
@@ Line 801: / Line 801: @@
 From the sickness inflicted upon the Crucible to the breaking of Light on the red sands.
-From a forgotten settlement in the west to the horrors of North Channel and Velor.
+From a forgotten settlement in the west to the horrors of North Channel and [[Velor]].
 From the wilds of the Breaklands to the hateful cold of Durga.
-Finally, then, to Dwindler’s Ridge, where Darkness met pure, angry fire.
+Finally, then, to [[Dwindler’s Ridge]], where Darkness met pure, angry fire.
 We’ve traced Yor’s steps from beginning to end and back again.
@@ Line 848: / Line 848: @@
 ==Ghost Fragment: Lord Shaxx==
 [[File:Grimoire Ghost Fragment Lord Shaxx.jpg|right|150px]]
-“I beat you fair,” Cayde said. “Don’t ever—“
+“I beat you fair,” [[Cayde-6|Cayde]] said. “Don’t ever—“
-He raised his hand high to wag a finger under Shaxx’s nose.
+He raised his hand high to wag a finger under [[Shaxx]]’s nose.
 “—try to outrace my Golden Guns.”
@@ Line 896: / Line 896: @@
 Shaxx let out a breath, then scanned the field again, past child after squirming child. He quickly discerned the two on the field with the best athletic potential. Two human girls, snarling as they swung branches at each other, seemingly impervious to pain. He walked past them, through the crowd, and several elders paused just briefly enough in their youth wrangling to let their jaws hang. Lord Shaxx navigated the unruly sea with grace, and headed toward a lone tree in a corner of the field. An Awoken girl and a human boy sat huddled below it.
-As Shaxx’s shadow eclipsed them, they looked up at him with the same brightness in their eyes. “What are your names?” he demanded. “Runa,” said the Awoken with some disdain. She returned the blank stare of Shaxx’s faceplate. “My name is Lonwabo,” recited the human, more like a question than a statement.
+As Shaxx’s shadow eclipsed them, they looked up at him with the same brightness in their eyes. “What are your names?” he demanded. “[[Runa]],” said the Awoken with some disdain. She returned the blank stare of Shaxx’s faceplate. “My name is [[Lonwabo]],” recited the human, more like a question than a statement.
 “You look bored, Runa,” Shaxx observed. “And you look worried, Lonwabo.” He pointed at the boy, who scooted back, startled.
@@ Line 1,002: / Line 1,002: @@
 Intel source GREENRAVEN was right. And, for the moment, it’s worth assuming their report on the House of Exiles, House of Winter, and House of Wolves are also accurate. We’re fact-checking against independent fireteam reports from the field.
-The kid all the SRL fans talk about — Marcus? He was in one of the fireteams out at the Cosmodrome. He pulled me aside, and said it to me straight: the Fallen Houses are gone. The siege is broken. The stalemate we’ve had with the Eliksni for what, a hundred years? It’s over. We won.
+The kid all the SRL fans talk about — [[Marcus Ren|Marcus]]? He was in one of the fireteams out at the Cosmodrome. He pulled me aside, and said it to me straight: the Fallen Houses are gone. The siege is broken. The stalemate we’ve had with the Eliksni for what, a hundred years? It’s over. We won.
 Commander, I’m not even sure they’re flying the banners anymore. The teams found huge mounds of burnt cloth and armor, ceremonial piles, in several of the most hardcore Fallen holdouts.
@@ Line 1,011: / Line 1,011: @@
 I believe your wisdom will guide us through the trials ahead.<br>
-—Sloane
+—[[Sloane]]
 {{clear}}
@@ Line 1,026: / Line 1,026: @@
 Because, in the stillness, there was another measured source of breathing in the room.
-Eris Morn settled back into the chair, allowing the dark wisps of power she’d summoned to effortlessly flow from her back into the night. The green emanations from her shroud were stark against the dimness.
+[[Eris Morn]] settled back into the chair, allowing the dark wisps of power she’d summoned to effortlessly flow from her back into the night. The green emanations from her shroud were stark against the dimness.
 Almost as an afterthought, the Ghost turned from regarding the window. For a moment, three eyes stared at one, before it turned back to its watch.
@@ Line 1,034: / Line 1,034: @@
 His name was Asher Mir.
-Irascible. Annoying. Cantankerous. She’d even seen Ikora Rey become... exasperated in his presence. Her lips quirked, very slightly, upwards. A kindred spirit, if she’d ever had one.
+Irascible. Annoying. Cantankerous. She’d even seen [[Ikora Rey]] become... exasperated in his presence. Her lips quirked, very slightly, upwards. A kindred spirit, if she’d ever had one.
 Her smile died as her gaze slid to his side. His Warlock garb had been stripped from his body, and she could see his pale blue chest as it rose and fell in the bed. His arm. His arm was gone.
-In its place was a thing. The point where mechanicals knit with flesh was ghastly to behold, but the design was unmistakable to any Guardian who’d been in the field: Asher Mir’s arm was that of a Vex construct.
+In its place was a thing. The point where mechanicals knit with flesh was ghastly to behold, but the design was unmistakable to any Guardian who’d been in the field: [[Asher Mir]]’s arm was that of a Vex construct.
 Her eyes flicked to the ghost at the window. It too, was transformed. The unmistakable outline of Vex technology encrusting and penetrating the small warden’s shell. That red, staring eye...