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Subject: [Story] The Will of the Forerunners
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

Oh, crap. Where was this stated? I have read all the books but i dont remember reading that. Then again i havent quite finished cole protocal.

  • 07.25.2009 10:26 AM PDT

Yeah, the Cole Protocol.

Just ignore it.

  • 07.25.2009 10:40 AM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

High Charity became lit by the dim morning light of the artificial sky. The lower districts slowly came to life. Covenant crawled through the cold alleys, and huddled around small fires. The lower districts were freezing in the early morning. The weak never survived there. Young grunts lay frozen stiff in the frigid air of dawn. Only the strong survived here.

Al'Takals breath let off steam into the air as he walked down an alley towards one of the many bars he had been thrown out of. Hatred crept through his veins, and filled his body. He reached the door of the same building where he had slaughtered a pesky group of Jackals. The Elite could hear commotion inside. Al'Katal opened the door, and stepped into the construct.

The two Brutes that had thrown him out were staring at his armor. "You are not welcome here, scum." One of the beasts snarled. Al'Takal squinted at the Brute, "I swear on my bloodline, if you lay a hand on my again your blood will paint these walls." The two brutes laughed, and began to walk towards Al'Takal. The Elite flexed his mandibles into a grin.

Al'Katal unsheathed his energy sword with a hiss, and approached the Brutes. The two hairy monster's eyes widened as they reached for their spikers, but they were too slow. Al'Katals blade sliced through one of the brute's chest, sending blood through the air. The next managed to fire off three rounds into Al'Takal's energy shield before losing it's head. The Elite looked around the bar at his audience, " I have never been one for separating friends." He smiled at the terrified crowed. They were dead before they could scream.

Al'Katal strode through the lower districts, felling anyone in his path. After half a day of killing, he reached the steps to the next tier of High Charity, " Today, this city will fall." The Elite bound up the stairs, and stopped at the top. He stood upon a polished white metal. It wouldn't be white for long. In front of him, thousands of busy Covenant breathed. Al'Takal was in for the slaughter. When the Honor Guard finally arrived, it was to late.

Every life form in that area had been annihilated, and atop the pile of bodies stood Al'Katal, with an unquenched thirst for vengeance. His energy sword shined as he glared at the Elites around him. " Vallience means death my brothers." The Elites growled at him. An Honor Guard stepped forward, and unsheathed his energy blade, "We are not your brothers." This would be the end of Al'Takal. He was a skilled warrior, but he could not fell twenty honor guards alone. Then again, he wasn't alone.

Carbine beams flew through the air. The Honor guards fell to the ground, dead. From what appeared to be thin air came a band of strangers. They wore yellow armor. The captain of these men stood in front of Al'Takal. His battle garb glinted in the light. Four blades protruded from the back of his protective plating, " We are your brothers

[Edited on 07.25.2009 11:16 AM PDT]

  • 07.25.2009 11:04 AM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

Explenation for mateing issue

Times have changed in the Covenant. It is no longer the equivelant of the sixties.

  • 07.25.2009 11:05 AM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

Al'Katal stealthed, and followed the yellow armored Elites to their phantom in the hanger bay. The Grunt guards had thought it to be just another covenant craft. The heretics jumped aboard, and exited high charity. 'Where are we going?" Al'Katal asked. "Our mighty fortress." A heretic joked. The others laughed. "We have made some crude adjustments to our phantom's original design. In place of an explanation, I will simply tell you to grasp something. Oh yes, I am Zel'Atul."

The Elite activated a small slip space drive, hidden in the back of the cockpit. As it entered the warp, the extreme inertia of the Phantom threw Al'Katal against the back of the troop carrying bay. He was instantly knocked unconscious. The Heretics in the cockpit looked around at each other with worried faces." Zel'Atul spoke up, "He's fine" The aliens around him shrugged it off, and waited to arrive home.

  • 07.28.2009 3:50 PM PDT

the war is over if you want it to be-John Lennon & Yoko Ono

╔╗╔═╦╗
║╚╣║║╚╗
╚═╩═╩═╝

man you work quick.

[Edited on 07.28.2009 6:06 PM PDT]

  • 07.28.2009 6:06 PM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

Thanks :) This isn't an easy one for me to write,but i enjoy it.

  • 07.28.2009 6:53 PM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.


Al'Katal awoke in a soft bed. He had a raging head ache, and it felt like his left leg was broken. A particularly small Grunt opened the door to the small room, and wobbled in. He wore strange body armor. On his back were two clear tubes, Al'Katal decided they must be full of methane, considering the little runt didn't have a large chunk of metal as a breathing device. "Where am I?" The Elite groaned.

The Grunt squealed and jumped for cover, "I am sorry your greatness." It squeaked, "You surprised me." Al'Katal grunted, "Answer my question pest." "Of course your greatness." The small creature cleared it's throat, " You are, well, how should I say, the middle of nowhere." Al'Katal became aggravated, "Leave idiot, and bring me another worthless peon like yourself that actually knows where he is!" Once again the Grunt cowered, "Aram! We are on Aram!" "Aram? Why? This is a wasteland of a planet." Al'Katal asked "Exactly!" The Grunt exclaimed, "You see, your greatness, it is the last place the Covenant will check."

"Why do you hide?" Al'Katal asked, "Name your faction Unggoy." "We are the Righteous!" "HERETIC!" Al'Katal roared as he grabbed the Grunt's throat and lifted him into the air. It let out a sharp squeak. He then realized that he himself was no different. Al'Katal dropped the terrified creature, "I am sorry my friend. It is...a reflex." The Grunt lay on the floor, unconscious. "I don't suppose you have sustenance with you?" The Elite asked. He received no response. Al'Katal looked down at the pitiful being, it wasn't moving. He poked it a few times, "Friend?...Ugh, Excellent."

[Edited on 08.11.2009 1:59 PM PDT]

  • 08.11.2009 1:22 PM PDT
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When life gives you lemons, ferment them and get drunk.

Al'Katal sat on his bed, slouching over. He looked at the unconcious Grunt. The Elite pondered over his actions. Had he done the right thing? He had killed so many Covenant. Did they deserve it? Al'Katal was lost in a sea of emotions. He picked up the Grunt, and stared at it's limp body. Then the Elite did something verry odd. He grabbed its arms, and made it move like it was walking on the bed, "I am the Prophet of Regret! All bow down to me." He was swaying it's stubby hands in the air as if it were the one talking, " I shal sit on my throne and order servants to do everything for me! Are my strange tenticles hanging from face not glorious? Yes, yes they are." Al'Katal was let out a short laugh, " Aye, just as wonderful as the rest of my sagging features." The door to his chamber opened. Al'Katal quickly threw the Grunt to the other side of the room, soon after remembering that it was not a doll. The Elite winced. The door had completely opened, but nobody was there. He picked up his unconcious servant, and cautiously walked into the hallway.

  • 08.23.2009 6:36 PM PDT

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