Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20151030164455/@comment-1524575-20151127063633

Avgust's nightmare forced him back into a darker time, heavy snowfall and into the crevice of a mountainside. Artillery fire, bullet and arc exchange, the screams from both the Fallen and the Guardians. He sat there, holding his Thunderlord in his hands as he tried to flex his chest—finding that it was paralysed from the arc energy which wrecked havoc on his body. Snow was slowly entering his wounds, covering him slowly as he tried to move his legs. Nothing worked, not even his fingers... instead, the Vanguard sat and accepted the snowfall that was covering him very, very slowly.

He looked over the dead bodies of the Fireteam he was chosen to lead to break apart the Fallen offensive. One Hunter, her limp frame pinned to the ground with two shockblades. And the Warlock? The Exo was picked apart with much of its equipment stolen from it. The Vanguard looked into the sky, the beautiful sky as he closed his eyes. A rustle was made, as Avgust looked at the body over the female Exo frame. No movement. He looked over towards the Hunter, pinned to the floor as she tried to break free.

"Pariah?" Avgust asked, trying to break free from his wounds. But nothing moved. Nothing would dare move.

(Sorry for my absence, but time has been difficult for our family. I'll try to catch up, but it is likely I will have to skip forward to catch up.)