Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20151030164455/@comment-24510587-20160203212224

"Ah, the Tower," Orkrim sighed, as the Fangs of Nyx flew over the pavillion. "It's been too long."

Ghost transmatted him onto the tiled floor. Here, in this beacon of light, all was normal. No Hive aberrations, no corrupted Guardians, just the calm serenity of the large tree and Rahool decrypting Engrams.

Chorrin materialised next to him. Both of their outfits had sustained considerable wear and tear throughout this campaign. Orkrim's white robes, which used to shine radiantly in the sun, now were ripped and dirty. Chorrin's cloak, black as the night, had been partly torn off. But it didn't matter; they could get new attire now.