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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]