Covenant Intermission

[abroad]

First Holy Day of the Festival of the Age of Reconciliation

Lament, Capitol-World of the 50th Sector of the Holy Covenant Empire, Mandate of the Prophet of Santification

66th Standard Cycle of the 6th Year of the 9th Age of Reclamation (Tuesday, 6th March, 2531, UNSC Calender)

Supreme Commander S'vat had not been forgiving when it had come to the Officers of the Pious Charity they had pleaded with him, tried to explain that they had almost succeeded in capturing important information upon the location of the human worlds – one had even been aggressive enough to suggest that his own actions had scuppered their chances of retrieving the information, S'vat had cut him down for the insult to his honour. In the end, he had ordered twenty cursory executions, many of those facing execution had quietly committed honourable suicide within their cells rather than make their clans and families suffer the indignity of a public execution.

Behind the passive mask he maintained S'vat was seething over the knowledge that he had accidentally denied himself the locations of several human planets – but the executions had cleared him of that, those who had not been executed had the sense to keep their mouths shut, any rumours of his failure to gain such decisive information were quelled and the records of his failure expunged – he had hidden much of it from his own Master, the Prophet of Sanctification had been more than pleased with the 'prize' of the expedition, the Human Demon. While S'vat's delight of the capture had been blunted by his learning of what he had failed to obtain from the Pious Charity he recognised the importance of the Human warrior's capture, slay one of them before the idiot masses, and they would dispel this belief that the huge warriors were indeed 'Demons'.

It had taken them days to work out how to remove the creature from its armour, in the end they had used Engineers and S'vat had been quite glad that they had done so – in dismantling the warriors armour they had discovered a explosive device built into the suit that had an impressively high yield for such a small and crude device, had it been an Elite taking the armour apart, they would have likely set it off and obliterated a wide area. S'vats instructors had always told him that the best measure of a warrior was to judge them without their arms and armour, he had judged the human warrior, and had found him to be a worthy foe even without what appeared to be superior strength granted by the construction of the armour.

Ignoring proper protocol and with the agreement of his Master, S'vat had had the armour preserved for study by the Weapons Masters and Engineers, it would be studied, and anything useful would be considered by the Covenant, given the closeness of the bone-structure of the humans to the Jiralhanae, advancement of their Power Armour had been optioned as a possibility of the technologies, S'vat however was more interested in the worth of the powerful small explosive.

The Human Warrior on the other hand had been worth much less that his armour, S'vat was certain that the humans head was full of secrets – but his Master had given him little time to obtain it, the Prophet of Sanctification had been quite clear that he wanted the Human publicly executed on the first day of the Festival of the Age of Reconciliation. The argument between them had been long and bitter, but S'vat eventually bowed to the Prophets arguments, he could not deny that such a spectacular execution on the first day of the single most important Holy Festival of the Covenant would not bring the both of them great prestige, in the eyes of the Covenant as a whole, and particularly in the gaze of the Hierachs. With so little time to break the human S'vat had made the extraction of information from the warrior his own personal priority – he had split his time between duties as Supreme Commander and personally observing the torture of the human,

But in the end the warrior had proven too stubborn to be broken no matter how hard the Sangheili had tried, all the warrior droned out was a name and a rank,

“Petty Officer Second Class Harry-152.”

The frustration had almost driven S'vat insane, he had come close to running the creature through with his plasma sword, but he had just about restrained himself to beating the creature half to death before allowing others to restore it to health. In his frustration he had turned to other means, he had turned to the cruel Kig-Yar for their advice and their best torturers, he had used all manner of drugs and pain-inducing devices from across the Empire, eventually he had turned the creature over to the Jiralhanae, but STILL it had maintained the drone,

“Petty Officer Second Class Harry-152.”

In many ways, the resistance of the warrior to torture and its utter loyalty to protecting its species had raised S'vat's estimation of the creature – but it did not spare it the fate that approached it now, taking his mind away from his thoughts and glancing to the huge doors before him he looked down at the human – the armour it was wearing was an artisan replication of the true armour they had preserved, it was made of much weaker materials though something S'vat had been very specific about – but it paid for theatrics to unmask the warrior again before the watching eyes of the public viewing arena and, much more importantly, the Hierachs who had arrived unannounced in the early hours of the morning to bear witness.

The Supreme Commander glanced to his right, to the Prophet of Sanctification perched upon his customary dais, the weighty regal throne not born aloft by the power of repulsors, but by the backs of the penitents that the Prophet had slaved to carrying him as punishment for sins they had been found guilty of. He waited for the Prophets nod to the Honour Guard waiting before them at the massive doors leading onto the stage beyond. As the doors swung wide and the roars of jubilation filled the air, S'vat hoisted the human warrior before him, and lifted him up by the back of his neck, carrying him through the doors in one hand, unsupported by any of his staff, it was a sign of strength, that he PERSONALLY had conquered this warrior and that he alone would carry his prize aloft – the roar of the cheering intensified as he paraded the human to the front of the stage where he was lashed by self-restraint on full view, S'vat standing at attention at the forefront of the Honour Guard ringing the Prophet as he allowed his Master to preach, he would have his duty as executioner to attend to soon enough, his Master would sway the hearts of the public, it was S'vats duty to sate the desires of the warriors,

---

The hall reverberated with the sound of the tens of thousands of voices, the stamping of many-specied feet, until the Prophet of Sanctification raised a spindly three-fingered hand, in a silencing gesture. The eyes of the Hierarchs was upon him, and he would not allow this to be an embarrassment in any way - he would be heard.

Sanctification's regalia was not as weighty and ornate as that of a Hierarch, nor so full of sacred, decorative technology, but his robes were still encrusted with precious metals, with holy symbols, and with the other, many articles of his faith. He made up for this lack of comparative magnificence with overt displays of power; eschewing technology when it suited him, such as now, to demonstrate the power and absolute loyalty of his Sangheili servants, and, as in this case, the sheer military might of the fleets and armies under his 'indirect' control.

It was a great boon, therefore, to have this 'demon' here, in his own mandate, and his own responsibility for the success. It had been forces acting under his direction whom had been engaged with the humans, whom had set about the chain of events which, despite the loss of the assault carrier, had brought home this great prize. The shame of the failures would not fall upon the Prophet of Sanctification, only the glory of the successes.

The Prophet raised his reedy voice to speak, a faint whistling in the back of his throat. It was persuasive nonetheless, especially as his frail, ancient form stood, still on the enormous circular dais of stone and metal that was being held up by the quivering, loincloth-clad Penitents, doing penance for their sins by their pain and servitude.

"I have the satisfaction of, this cycle, being host to the opening of the Festival of the Age of Reconciliation. It is my privilege to serve the Holy Covenant on this, a day of the holiest of holies. I welcome our noble, deified Hierarchs, I welcome all those loyal devotees of my flock who have joined them here, in this, the most consecrated of our structures on the most sanctified world in the sector I have the duty of tending to. I welcome all those from across the Empire of the Holy Covenant who join us here in spirit, as permitted by the grace of the Forerunners and their most sacred relics of transmission."

Sanctification could not resist indirectly name-dropping his title, his worlds, while all the while sounding a humble preacher, existing only to look after his congregation's needs. His jowls quivered in anticipation of what he was to say next - another glory that would be forever associated with his holy name, and speed his path to becoming a Hierarch. Not only they watched, and approved, but the faithful across the Empire had all eyes upon him, looking to him to open the festival with a grand, overawing display of piety. And oh yes, he would give them one.

"Today, I display before you my prize, my gift to the Holy Covenant. Loyal warriors have done what many cowards thought perhaps not possible... they have captured this filth, this creature, this 'demon'."

He looked around, significantly, not even needing to point as the executor of his will held the broken human aloft.

"But in the most honoured presence of the Hierarchs, and of all here today, all watching today, I will show you that this is no demon. There is nothing to fear if this pathetic specimen is the best that the defilers have to offer. They are simply vermin, to be exterminated in the most just of crusades which the Covenant has ever been required to perform."

His voice raised to a fever pitch, inciting the crowd to further piety, many already shaking with fervour, chanting prayers to themselves, or rocking back and forth, beginning to froth or drool as their joyous, devoted feelings overwhelmed them.

"But are we not holier, better than they, O People? Do we not represent all which the Forerunners had planned, as opposed to the perversion of these humans' very existence? Should we not show the qualities of mercy to this vermin that imitates and defiles our most sacred creators?"

The hall began to reverberate once again with cries of denial, of righteous anger. The Covenant was so superior that showing restraint to these filthy creatures would be like sparing a bloodsucking insect - and the humans were not even that. Sanctification let the cries continue for awhile, before bowing his overgrown head in 'assent' to the will of the crowd. He held up his three-fingered hand for silence once more.

"Nay, then." he said, affecting a tinge of regret combined with religious resolution. "We must not show our good qualities to those who are unworthy of it. To reward the unworthy in any way, even by a quick death, would be to begin the path of weakness. So be it."

The Prophet of Sanctification sat down, resting back onto his throne, and gestured wordlessly to the executor of his will.

---

S'vat nodded to his Master turning to the assembled crowds, but speaking directly to the ranks of 'lesser' warriors, executing the demon would not serve to have any effect on his own kind, no matter how hard we would try the human would not give him any pitiful screams or cries or mewling, he would die with dignity and that would give him honour, but it wasn't the Elites he needed to see improve on the battlefield, it was the 'lesser' races the Kig-Yar and the Unggoy, ever since they had first encountered one of the so-called 'demons' on the battlefield their resolve in the Covenants superiority and their overall moral had dimmed in fear. More than once a battle-line had crumbled because his Sangheili couldn't maintain control of Kig-Yar and Unggoy troops when one of these human monsters appeared.

“The Prophet of Sanctification has told you, that this thing, is no demon, you have seen the images of old, you all know what a demon appears as...” he grabbed the human warrior's helmet and tore it from his head – displaying its perfectly human features to the crowds bellow, ushering in a gasp of surprise, “Does this look like a demon to you? Some of you have come to fear these warriors as faceless demons of fear – they are no less heretical, they are no less unclean and impure, but they are not demons and you will NOT fear them.”

He gestured to two of the Honour Guard who began stripping the human bare before the crowd letting them see it without its armour, “See now that all you have been fearing is simply a human when its armour is taken from it – see now what fools you have been to fear it – and know, knowing as you now do, that these 'demons' are simply mortal flesh encased in metal toys that the punishment for fleeing before these creatures will be death, you are forgiven, for we did not know their faces, for past fears, but now, you will not be forgiven and those that break before them will not pass onto the Great Journey.”

He turned his attention to the auditorium, “That is my will for all my forces, we have stabbed casually into human territories in search of artefacts of our gods – from now on we shall begin a renewed offensive, as I speak, the Factories and Space Yards of our Empire begin to churn out more resources for our Campaign, we shall pursue a new route of conquest, our forces will proceed en-mass into human space, we will proceed to systematically locate and exterminate the human presence from their worlds – by the consent of the Hierachs, we will burn worlds only when necessary, it is clear to us that the human vermin have infested the sacred worlds of our Gods, they are worlds that rightly belong to us, and we will no longer burn them – we will have them for our own!”

This latter part bought roars of approval from the Sangheili, he grinned, with all this wavering over their actions, promising them battle on the ground against the human vermin would certainly improve their morale. For there was nothing greater than the honour of facing their enemies upon the ground rather than behind the controls of their vessels, it handed the conflict from the Zealot-class to all Sangheili, as all could gain in the honour of long campaigns on the ground. S'vat raised his hand for silence,

“But we shall not eschew the cleansing flame, this vermin's presence in this sacred hall of gathering has sullied holy ground, we must purge his existence if we are to cleanse this ground – with the permission of the Prophet of Sanctification?” the Prophet inclined his head, giving final approval for the execution before S'vat looked up towards the three Hierachs who had watched in silence, “Most Holy of Masters will you give consent to the cleansing flame?”

There came a silence, the Hierachs were as much showmen as the Prophet of Sanctification, the youngest amongst them, Truth, had seen to ensuring that they had been given a part to play in this spectacular, and it came now, the Prophet of Truth bowing his head in unison with his companions,

“We grant your request Supreme Commander...”

The Hierarch gestured towards the slack form of the human warrior as the invisible plasma-gasses that had been slowly seeping around the human were ignited, it was a grandiose display of power, as if suggesting that the gods had handed the Hierachs the power to create fire from nothing, but it served to mark the start of the Festival with a display of the power of the Covenants leaders, and remind some of the natural order of things.

With his back to the flames S'vat glanced towards the other Zealots and Supreme Commanders present, only looking more imposing silhouetted by the fire as he exchanged gazes with some of those amongst them who had long been his opponents – in part this entire display had been to assert his position over themselves, with this display of power he had made himself the most well known of the Covenants military leaders, if he could keep the momentum he had almost guaranteed himself a position as Councillor when he retired – they would be looking for him to make mistakes, he would be waiting for them to step out of line so he could use his position of prestige to crush them.

---

With the execution over, the forces that had survived the battle to defend Pious Charity found themselves allowed to relax, the Supreme Commander had not been harsh enough to execute any beyond the Zealot-class and a few unfortunate Ultras, they had been spared his wrath and absolved of any dishonour by him praising them for the 'demons' capture (it had after-all been executed by regulars).

The planet of Lament was as heavily urbanised as the Covenant's many Artificial Colonies, but with the freedom of an open sky. The streets were full of Covenant civilians and warriors alike, it was hard to tell on the First Day of the Festival tonight was the Night of Equality, armour was shed for formal festival dress only the Law Enforcers were permitted to signify their power as they ensured that no celebrations got out of hand.

In practice, rank and social standing were not important on this Night, but it was impossible to remove such a deeply ingrained ideal from the minds of the crowds, the San'shyum and the Sangheili were treated with the uttermost respect as usual, and while Sangheili were without their defining armour, it was easy to identify, by the quality of their festival robes, who belonged higher in society than yourself. But the strictures of formality were not so...rigid, it was a night to allow oneself to relax and enjoy the entertainments on hand, and with Lament turned into a city-wide festival there was much to see, entertainers from all across the Empire had flocked to Lament as host of the opening of the Festival this year, as had the greatest Preparationers of Foods.

Vibrant colours filled the night, the smells of many exotic foods wafting through the air, drunken laughter raucous and unrestrained, on a 'modern' world of the Covenant like Lament, the Sangheili could allow themselves not to remain stern for fear of criticism by their peers, for there were so many revellers here, one's identity could disappear.

((Word Count: 3293))

((Anyone who participated in M2 or has a Covenant in M3 may partake - any sort of...military type briefing/event will occur at the start of M3 this is your chance to explore your characters as individuals in a civilian setting.))

[Dufflepud]

Skirmisher Ultra Xet

Xet growled, and ran his toung over his grimy, yellow teeth. Although the smells which wafted past his nostrils smelled good, he was dreaming about feasting upon the flesh of the spartan. Its body had been charred, and the exterrior would not have been to Xet's liking, but the bones and flesh of it would have mixed sweatly in his mouth. As the last words of the long, boring speech sounded out, Xet roared. Although he was not strictly loyal to the covenant, sometimes it was good to fake fanaticism.

Spec Ops assassin Nyla Katolee

"I could have killed the demon! I am the strongest warrior among us all!"

Nyla boasted, his breath heavy with alcohol. A croud of similarly drunken sangheili laughed at that, and a single warrior stepped forwards. The warrior stood a full six inches taller than Nyla, and was obviously quite a bit heavier. A large scar ran down his left arm.

"You think you could win against me?" slurred the warrior.

In response, Nyla ducked underneath the other sangheili's arms, slamming him into a wall, before sinking his teeth into the other warrior's stomach with a large "Squelch." Not seeming to notice the pain, the other sangheili grabbed Nyla by the neck, throwing him off. Teeth ripped through flesh, and the major took a step forwards, purple blood now pumping from his chest. Slipping in a puddle of the stuff, the sangheili fell face first onto the ground, knocking himself out.

"Ahhhrrrrggggghhhhh!" roared the victorious sangheili, before colapsing himself, the result of the large amount of alcohol he had recently consumed.

[kartoffelfogel]

Nera shifted past the crowd of Sangheili as they dispersed heartily after the execution. The hall was jam-packed; attempting to leave it was proving difficult. His red Major's armor earned him a bit of respect and a bit more room to move, but his subordinate Minors were lost in the crush like everyone else. So, instead, he hung back with them and slowly navigated their way through the crowd. He heard them speaking behind him.

Ktho, the best warrior of the group was muttering alongside Lakas, the newest of the group after Nera himself. Nera kept his ears primed for any hint of sly gossiping occuring almost literally behind his back.

"This campaign." he overheard Ktho say. "It's your first, isn't it?"
"Why, yes, of course." Lakas said surprisedly. "Isn't it yours?"
"Yes, it is. But I've been on patrol several times, and have fought the humans on a few occasions."
"What are they like? I've only ever fought the usual smattering of pirates."
"Their ships are black as space. Sometimes they are clad in black armor. They are creatures of shadow, make no mistake!"

Nera realized that Ktho wasn't attempting to turn the rest of the lance against him, and was instead trying to frighten them with horror stories. Nera had fought the humans before, and he would have set Ktho straight had he not been almost completely accurate.

He paused in his musing as he heard something he distinctly didn't like.

"We'll be promoted..." Ktho was saying. "At least we will be if we survive."

[Oresus]

I am a wolf among sheep.*

So thought Nha 'Chavamee, his rank and standing in the military irrelevant tonight, as he stared down a pair of Kig-Yar blocking his path until they were cowed and sidestepped him. Nha continued to amble along the walkway, an underground affair that cut directly beneath the districts belonging to the lower echelons of Covenant society. Yet the ceiling of the tunnel was made of glass, pure, clear glass that formed the ground of the plaza above. The sometime Major's eyes narrowed as he looked up at the celebrations taking place above him, and he hastened his pace to be out of the ground. A stream of civilians and warriors alike moved with and against him, but gently; let it never be said that the people of the Holy Covenant weren't as peaceful as their defenders were warlike.

The walkway sloped, and Nha ascended out of the ground and found himself on the edge of the plaza he'd noticed from below. Hundreds, thousands of people from most of the species writhed and moved amongst each other in a bizarre cross between a dance, a carnival and a social function. The babble of conversation coupled with the pops of plasma explosives -fireworks - from high above swept across his ears and Nha 'Chavamee turned away - for a warrior of the Covenant, he wasn't fond of noise. The Sangheili sought tranquility in the surrounding streets, encountering others like himself. After a search, Nha was rewarded with the discovery of a garden hidden between buildings. Trees, small and delicate, graced the grassy area surrounding a paved diamond in the middle. A fountain stood in the center of this place, water chattering away, and four benches formed a square around it. It was a common design; Nha had meditated, prayed, and slept in many a garden such as this.

Entering, he threaded his way around the fountain and sat on the edge of the bench facing the entrance, so as to spot any who followed him into this place. Nha hoisted his legs up and sat cross-legged on the bench, his wine-red robes rustling in the relative quiet. A breath in, a breath out, and...there. At last, he could hear himself think. Nha's thoughts were like knives, cutting into the crystal-clear pond that was his mind, the otherwise blank canvas for the painting. He allowed his mind to run freely, reveling in this state of higher awareness, higher thought. The memories of Lethe couldn't harm him; he could review them without fear of emotion, that accursed foe of reason.

I am a wolf among sheep.*

Or so he'd thought until recently, when he'd been bested not once but several times by the one foe he shouldn't lose to. The loss of the majority of his lance didn't bother Nha as much as the thought of defeat, the taste of defeat. Thoughts only a Sangheili could think, of tarnished honor and everlasting shame, flooded his thoughts before Nha, master of the mind, banished them and returned to his contemplation. Perhaps, he reasoned, another battle, another campaign, another war was what he needed to redeem himself. For there was no doubt in the Major's mind that he needed redemption, if only to serve his own ego. Nha's Minors, Jae and Taheri, had been avoiding his gaze ever since that damned skirmish with the Demons, in which Nha - conqueror, skirmisher, Sangheili - had played dead like a common animal as several of his bitterest enemies had strode past. No doubt they thought him a coward, perhaps with good reason. Or was it paranoia?

Nha needed to do something memorable to redeem himself, this much he knew. More than anything else, he wished he'd been the one to capture the Demon, or even to send it into the custody of the Supreme Commander. But no, he needed to focus not on what was but instead on what had yet to -

"Playing host to troublesome thoughts, are we, Major?"

Nha 'Chavamee's eyes snapped open to behold the sight of a withered elder dressed in a robe dyed a neutral brown and emanating an aura of wisdom. The Sangheili moved stiffly to sit next to him and placed a wrinkled, claw-like hand on the warrior's shoulder. Nha relaxed and considered his thirst for glory of a few moments ago. The elder glanced at a wall, beyond which was the hall where the survivors of Lethe had attended the execution earlier. Understanding creased his face, and he squeezed Nha's shoulder. "I see. I was a warrior like yourself once, too. Do you know what I've learned since then?"

Nha 'Chavamee looked up and met the other Sangheili's eyes, asking him: what? What?

"Nothing," croaked the old one. "I knew all along. You know too, I think. See through the veil." And with that he left, his bare feet making no sound, leaving Nha more confused than ever.



*Creative license with the proverb/thought.

[Dufflepud]

Xet strode along, walking from stall to stall, and tasting all of the delicious food that each one held. 'Mmmmm!' thought the skirmisher as he tore into a succulent peice of thorn beast. Soon, however, xet began to feel abit claustraphobic in the massive crowd, and quietly slipped away. Suddenly, a sharp cry of pain could be heard, and Xet rushed off. Maybe it was an Unngoy he could kill!

As he rounded a bend, Xet came face to face with a large, imposing jiralhanae, which seemed to eb in the middle of torturing a Kig-Yar female. The brute picked her up, and Xet was about to rush in to help her, when the female slammed her foot in between the jiralhanae's legs. The surprised brute dropped her, only to find a clawed foot tearing several gashes through his face. Red blood spewed out all ofver the ground, but the enraged jiralhanae barely had time to let loose a bellow before the girl's claws found its throat, silencing it permenantly...

[Killer Frog]

Yut looked on at the speech and execution with more doubt than awe, feeling that his lance felt otherwise. He had decided to stay with his lance, as they knew nothing of this world or it's inhabitants and felt it would be best for their safety if they stood together. Sadly Bec was not allowed to join the festivities for obvious reasons. Nis had elected to stay behind at the barracks with him to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. Yut felt she was lying, she was never one for crowds.

Eyu looked at Yut full of worry. If this worry was sincere or not could be left up to speculation, Eyu and Jik had hit the bars before the celebration and where quite drunk even before the real celebration began.

"What's wrong Major, feelin' low on faith?" Eyu said in a slur.
"I think 'eh's feelin' low on booze!" Jik added with a laugh.
"I just don't think we have much of a reason to celebrate. Sure we captured the Demon, but at what cost? We lost information that could have won us this war." Yut added, trailing on to him self.
"What does it matter? Longer war, higher profits!" Qwi butted in, along with Yut being strangely sober.

At that Yut shrugged, looked around the crowd over the heads of the other Kig-Yar, said: "You have a point, but I think we should wait until we win this war to start celebrating."

[Seraph]

The streets were alive with brightly colored lights and sounds as the the masses people went about the grand central plaza outside of gathering hall. The activity was just surging as the festivities were kicked off with such a glorious start. The flow, the energy of the people was every where not to mention contagious as the whole of the civilian body came together in joyful celebration.

Young Ramia Sraomee found herself caught up in the sweep of things as she wandered about the grounds taking in the sights and sounds. Sweet and savory aromas that wafted thought he air air filled her nostrils. Festive musical notes could be heard playing on the air from exotic instruments that just filled one with the urge break into dance. Colorful displays of decoration and light fixtures were absolutely dazzling to the eye. It was a wonderful distraction from the grit of of a military duty. It was certainly a welcome one since what had transpired on Lethe.

Sraomee wanted to take this time to herself, to forget her shortcomings of that mission, how she failed miserably, how she had hid like a scared rodent in a whole while those damned humans amok and she did nothing to stop them! Damn them, damn them and damn myself! The whole while those thoughts had burned themselves into the back of her mind, mocking her for her weakness. Though, they had simmered down some since the failed mission. Now she could feel only the an simmering ache like dying coals.

The Minor sighed standing among the cheerful yet faceless masses that swarmed around her. She was alone now, her brother So'hdri having gone off with comrades for a drink and to share stories of war and revelry. He'd offer her the chance to join in but as usual the others would not have it. Because she was a shameful one and Ramia would not allow her own faults to drag down another, especially her sibling. I was always stubborn that way...

None the less Ramia was determined to make the most of the opportunity. She was alive and what mattered was she could always try-, no, there was no trying. She would reclaimer her honor even unto death!

But I digress...

She stood alone among the crowds in the plaza. Dressed in simple garb of a dignifying white robe of silk complete with a navy blue hakama and white sash tied around her middle (think Japanese priestess dress). The clothing was rather slim on her feminine figure in a way that was both complementary and modest at the same time. In all honesty her aim was to try and appear as manly as she could without making herself seem overly masculine. Not that the Sraomee was trying to be something she was not, but she was still a warrior and she would let it be known she was not just some delicate flower.

Ramia paced among the stalls of the peddlers showing a wide array of goods and things that could catch the eye of any. She rarely spoke up about something that caught her interest, the Minor had decided to just look at what was being offered. The merchandise of each stall was indeed a interesting thing in and of itself: ranging from foodstuffs to momentous and other knickknacks. There was much more on the grounds to be had and witness but the young Sangheili just felt compelled to wander about for the time being.

"Perhaps if I am fortunate I may have an uneventful time...if the Gods have mercy." she thought to herself. Sometimes fate had a way of twisting itself around if only to make her chosen path a bit more difficult, if not a bit more interesting.

[Kenny]

Spec-Ops Sangheili Tavise Outside A Bar

Everybody looked the same, and every moving thing looked swirly to Tavise. His original plan was to have a small drink, then see if he could converge with another Sangheili to hear how the "demon" may have been captured. He wanted someone who could really tell everything in detail to him.
But, his plan had gone off track. His Unggoy had went off together to find some wandering Kig-Yar, while he and the other Sangheili in the squad had stayed at the bar. While drinking, he didn't want the others to get too drunk and hurt themselves, so he just had one small drink that tasted great. So as soon as they walked away to watch a fight, he ordered many more, and by the time they got back he had dranken five. They asked if he needed any air, and Tavise's reply was "Yes, let us go-oooo.." before falling to the floor. He had gotten back up with the help of his squadmates before they left him on the bench outside.

After being left on the bench, he realized just how much his brown and purple robes contrasted, But he thought they were good colors to show his rank of special operations.

He then caught up to the current time and was not suprised to find out he had been standing in place in the middle of the crowd the whole time. He thought his plan may still have a chance and dashed off to find a Sangheili to tell him about the previous battle. He bumped into a female Sangheili in white robes and stopped. She looked good, but he then put this thought aside and realized being a female she may bend to his will.

"Hello female, do you mind telling me how that "demon" was captured if you know?" He asked stumbling forward from his dizziness. He was still slightly drunk but was mostly in control. He grabbed the Sangheili he was talking to's arm and implied, "and I want to know all about it!"

[Seraph]

The young Minor was peering over a collection of one particular stall that offered an assortment of small jewelery and other small accessories. Ramia wasn't one to be overly interested in such mementos since becoming a warrior, but it didn't mean that she was not turned off to such things either. She approached the stall, the vendor was a squat looking Unggoy standing on container just to see over the counter. The Unggoy vendor was busy at the moment flailing it's stubby arms haggling with some ornery Kig Yar at the moment, but she payed them no mind as she glanced over the wares.

Much of the merchandise on display were rather tacky and some other pieces were just to rich for her blood, both in a figurative and literal sense of the expression. Then her eye caught a rather modest looking pendant made of an over polished copper looking material. She considered it for a moment, she liked it and turned to the vendor to speak.

"Excuse me- oof." an abrupt push from her side made her stumble. She moved to catch herself before she collided into some one else. Turning to look at what pushed her, all the female's eyes saw was purple. Ramia looked up perplexed to find an imposing male Sangheili garbed in purple robes staring down at her.

"Hello female, do you mind telling me how that "demon" was captured if you know?" stumbling slightly as he stood. Ramia took a small step back to avoid getting bumped into again.

"I beg you're pardon?" the Minor asked at the abrupt inquiry. She gasped quietly when the male seized her by the arm.

"and I want to know all about it!" he added drawing her closer. Ramia's snout wrinkled at the stench of intoxicants on his breath when he spoke. Ugh, not again...as if it was not enough in war college. Her temper started up slightly as this drunkard's manner was rude.

"I wouldn't know nor would I care as long as it's dead." the Minor lied in venomous tone, well, half lied anyway. Her hazel eyes glaring at him. She could say she knew more than those who were not on the Pious Charity, but such information was not to be spoken of under any circumstance upon threat of death. She doubted this twit knew anything of the whole fiasco."Further more, I do not appreciate being grabbed on to like some servant girl." her temper began to flare as she tugged against the male Sangheili's grip attempting to inch away from him.

It took all her discipline to fight the urge of slapping the male upside his head.

[Oresus]

In the quiet, sheltered courtyard, Nha awoke as if from a deep sleep and rose from the bench, stretching his muscles and easing himself into a full state of awareness. His wine-red robes fell into creases around him as the Sangheili drew himself up to his full height, or lack thereof. As if this courtyard had been built with peace in mind, the sounds of celebration from the streets around him were muffled and indistinct. When Nha left through the arch through which he'd entered, he was once again surrounded by revelers. Striking along the street in the direction of the plaza, Nha reflected upon his meditation.

He'd come to terms with his failure at Lethe, but there remained a sullen, ashamed anger pulsing in time with his hearts. Each time he drew a breath, recognized a comrade, or allowed himself to think, shame pierced Nha to his core, a shame that he'd resolved to cut out, force out, and cast away through deeds in combat and faith alike. The Sangheili glanced around for a temple, but remembered that the nearest one doubled as the hall he'd witnessed an execution in before and would no doubt be packed with officers, aristocrats - and Honor Guards, owing to the presence of the Hierarchs. If failure felt like a wound to the hearts, the knowledge that he'd basked in the presence of the Covenant's most holy individuals, divinely anointed, was like immersing oneself in a bath of warm water. Armed with this emotion, Nha decided that prayer could wait. Instead, he emerged into the plaza and looked around for a veteran of Lethe to converse with, as well as a stall bearing the traditional savories enjoyed by most Sangheili.

*Invitation to anyone who wants a chat

[Killer Frog]

Yut shifted around uneasily on the small bar-stool he had taken. His deep red clothes, which appear similar to a very tight human tank top and pants, reflected the dim light of the area around him in a rather soothing way. Yut and company had decided to stop to have a drink in an outdoor bar underneath an overpass. They had managed to avoid most of the crowds, as this part of the slums was scarcely populated even before the celebration. By this time Jik and Eyu had reached a state of drunkenness most humans would describe as "shitfaced" so Yut had taken his lance to a rather quiet area where the two of them couldn't get in any serious trouble.

"You boys workin' for the Covenant?" The barkeep asked.
"What makes you think that?" Yut responded.
"You're not celebratin' like the rest of 'em."
"Is that a giveaway? "
"Sort of, the merchants and workers and that bunch seem more enthusiastic about this than the soldiers."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, most soldiers are either locked up in their rooms after the ceremony, alone tryin' to forget or boasting with the crowds"
"You seem to know a lot about this don't you, mind watching these two for me so me and my friend here can go find one of these boasters, I'd like to know what happened."
"Sure, just don't take too long, and make sure you pick up their tab. Don't try and push your way out of it, I know what they pay you mercs." The barkeep nodded slowly as Yut and Qwi walked off to find a veteran of the conflict. The bakeep turned to look at the two drunken skirmishers rolling around on the ground making sounds as if they where in combat. They had attracted quite the crowd, this tantalized the old Kig-Yar's tradesman instincts.
"Lucky me..." The old man said as he scratched behind the eyepatch that covered where his left eye would have been.

Invitation to role to the play?

[Dufflepud]

Tehlu watched as a young major, obviously lost in thought, walk out onto the plaza, where hundreds of covenant warriors and civilians alike danced and celebrated. 'There is something strange about this one,' Tehlu noted, as the warrior paid no attention to the partying of the Kig-Yar, Unngoy, Jiralhanae, and even Sangheili about him.

Tehlu lifted himself up off of his chair, walking over slowly, and sitting down beside the younger sangheili. With a kind expression, and a smile Tehlu lightely tapped Nha on the shoulder.

"It seems as though you have been thinking of important things, things best forgotten on a night like tonight. What troubles you? Do you not enjoy the merrymaking?"

[Kenny]

"Are you sure? It's like the demon was delivered from the gods. Which I find very unlikely." Tavise responded to the female, tightening his grip. By now things had started to become less dizzy, but Tavise was still fairly drunk.

"You seem distant, as if something happened. Did you help in capturing the demon? Answer me female!" He yelled, though the most attention given by the crowd was the occasional stare. Meanwhile, Tavise's Unggoy had been found sulking around an alleyway until found by his Elites. They had sat down for a while to recover from being drunk, and were now looking for Tavise. They thought they had saw his shining purple robes quite a bit away, and were making their way there.

[darthpit]

Darap was carrying some small boxes containing jewels. He had applied for a job as the assistant of a merchant for the time of the festival. The boxes were to resupply sold jewels. Finally he got to the stall of his boss, a squat Unggoy. The merchant was busy haggling with some customers, so Darap sat down behind the counter, still holding the boxes. To not get bored, he started listening to the voices. Those customers were surely Kig-yars, he recognized their typical voice. And there was another pair of voices, Sangheili or Brute. More likely Sangheili.
"...Did you help in capturing the demon?..." Darap heard one Sangheili ask. Demon?... Oh, that demon. He wished he could finish off the captured demon. What was very improbable. Or at least see the unholy vermin perish. But no, that big fat Brute had to stand in front of him! With these thoughts he sat there, waiting for his boss to finish haggling.

[Seraph]

This male was starting to become eritataing. Her business was not his to know especialy when she was under strict order. She had no intention of indulging this one, but the Minor would be fully intent on putting this one down if he did not relent. Ramia felt the hand around her arm tighten against her equally tensed muscle. But she had promised So'hdri that she would not get into yet another scufle tonight, not to mention the simbolic importance of such a celebration. Though, her comitment was slowly slipping.

"I know not what you speak of. You reak of alchohol and are wasiting my time with your paranoid ramblings. Quite a few more heads were now bginning to turn to the ruckus. "I demand you let go of me!" Ramia raised her own to equal his and the fist of her free arm subconsioulsy clenched at her side. Oh where by my father is So'hdri!?

((Fail post is fail...))

[Spartan 999]

Special Operations Officer Sorsa 'Xirsasai

Sorsa had been sitting alone quietly several minutes after the execution, pondering the trials. Needless to say, with the occasional firework going off, alongside the drunken celebrators, Sorsa did not get very far in the contemplations.

Deciding that what he needed was a refreshment, Sorsa found a nice overlook in which to sip the fruity drink. During this, Sorsa scanned the crowd, seeing Marum getting drunk, Kora watching the fireworks, and slightly insane Lirm telling a joke to four other Sangheili. An outburst from behind startled Sorsa, causing him to turn and see a female Sangheili trying to escape a male's grasp. Several revelers had turned to stare at the argument, making the salesman behind the booth look embarrassed. He feebly tried to break up the small commotion, but the two didn't seem to notice.

Unconsiously rubbing the scars on his forearms, Sorsa stood and stalked over to the booth of knick-knacks. The salesman looked at him in fright, freezing in place.

Worthless Unggoy. thought Sorsa.

Placing a massive hand on the shorter male's shoulder, Sorsa spoke in his low baritone voice.

"Perhaps you have had too much to drink, my friend." Sorsa's crimson eyes glared at the male, definetly telling any who bothered to look back into the eyes that Sorsa was not being friendly. "Please, come with me."

[Kenny]

Tavise looked into the eyes of the new Sangheili with a stare just as intense. "I was hoping not to anounce my rank to you because of this celebration. But I may have to." He announced.

Looking back to the female, he realized what he was doing and let go. He was now in a state of controlled drunkness. "Sorry, female. But I still think; really, a lone demon just being found and captured by us? I know there is something behind this, and my curiosity has gotten the best of me. Also," Tavise finished as he pushed off the male's arm and slightly twisted it.

"I'd prefer you not to do that." Tavise told the massive handed Sangheili. He wasn't one for being offensive, but he despised being a pesky peacekeeper.

[Seraph]

Finally free of Tavise's grip Ramia took a step back from them rubbing the slightly sore spot on her arm. Rolling back the sleeve she found that a slight signs of bruise begining to form where Tavise gripped her. She groaned sourly to herself and lloked up to glare at her offeneder, but a split second thought told her to tone down her hostility. The expression on her face softened a little. The situation seemed to have come under control.

"I accept." she replied simply with only a slight edge to her tone.
Though, she still couldn't help but look a little cross when looked at him. She did however bite back a comment that perhaps was better left unsaid at the moment. Then she turned to the other male Sangheili and........

"Oh my ancestors..."

The Minor's mandibles visibly went slack and her expression turned into a mix of awe and perplexity the moment she laid her hazel eyes on him. He was...big...imposing would have been more apropriate, but the way the larger male's features complemented each other; he was quite intimadating to the small female. The balckn ess of his skin couple with those red piercing eyes made him look a bit of a demon blooded himself. Though, he did look awfuly impressive even...

NO no no no! Stop thinking like that! Ramia shook her head before the thoughts popped into her head. She felt her face flush a bit, even blush just a little bit.

[Dufflepud]

Nyla groaned, stretching out his legs, and clutching his aching head. He felt as though a sucesion of plasma grenades were going off inside of his brain.

"By the gods!"

Nyla roared, shrinking away from the dim lights that burned his eyes when he looked up. Still clutching his eyes, Nyla stumbled reeling forwards, and looking as if he were still drunk.

Taking several steps forward, he tripped over a stall, opening his eyes just in time to see a blushing female sangheili standing in front of a larger, imposing male. A male he was about to crash into! Falling forwards, Nyla crashed into the other male, slamming his head onto the ground, and amplifying his pain by a hundredfold. He let loose a piercing scream, a sound not beffioting of a sangheili warrior, before he became unconcious.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa glared into the other male's eyes, fists clenched and shaking.

"If you are trying to announce rank on me, then I must tell you that I am a Special Operations Officer," Sorsa growled, voice wavering in fury. "And you are but a regular Spec Ops."

At this point, yet another Sangheili collided with his ribs quite hard. The shock startled Sorsa and the first male, who released him. The addition squealed, hands waving wildly.

The claws ripped into Sorsa's sleave, tearing his royal blue and violet robe, revealing the spiky/triangular Mark of Penance on his forearm. Not unaware of the way the blushing female was staring at him, Sorsa whirled the tattered remnants of his robe to cover the Mark. Bending over, he checked the fallen drunk.

"Unconscious..." Sorsa growled, motioning for the other two Sangheili to help him. "Better to bring him out of an area where he will be trampled."

[Seraph]

Special Operations!?
Ramia almost snapped to attention at that but refrained from saluting. She looked at Sorsa in surprise for a moment, but then looked to Tavise and immediately felt a sinking pit in her stomach. The Minor grew a bit worried at the anouncement of Tavise's rank, the things that she said! It may not matter much tonight if she kept quiet. But if they were to ever meet on active duty she would pray that he would not recall this event.

It was then that sudden movement to the side made Ramia jolt and sidestep on reflex. It happened to be yet another drunk Sangheili that barreled past the her and right into the Spec Ops Officer. She flinched slightly at the impact and already held the assumption that it may not end well for the new comer. In the comotion she caughtr he slightest glimpse of something upon Sorsa's arm, but the moment passed to quickly for it to really register.

When he checked the passed out Nyla on the ground she almost thought that the Spec Ops Officer would let the other have it. He did not much to her surprise. When he asked for help on moving the unconious one away from here gave her pause. "I-I...erm." Oh there was no point in argueing. Even if they didn't know they still outranked her it isn't like there was much else to do. Plus it was one of their own in need and the Minor's honor was already at a low point any way. Anything was better than wondering around sulking.

Ramia grumbled to herself and moved to help support and relocate Nyla. "On your lead." she said still slightly sour from before. Nit to mention the regret of shooting her mouth of to the other male was still settling in the pit of her stomach.

[Dufflepud]

Nyla quickly came to his senses, as the pain in his head had mostly subsided.

"Get your hands off of me! I am no drunkard!" he snapped, quickly regretting his words as he noticed that the slim, graceful hands which had been supporting him belonged to a beautiful young sangheili female.

"I apologize for yelling, and for crashing into you," he mumbled, purple blood already rushing to his face as he became embarassed. He stood up, rubbing his head, before turing back to the female who was obviously in a bad mood.

"Besides my... rudeness, what angers you?" he inquired, ignoring the larger male upon which her gaze was riveted.

[Seraph]

Ramia let go of Nyla when he protested aloud seeing that he was perfectly capable of standing on his own. Agitation spiked for a moment, but she forced it down for the time being. Clenching her mandibles together was all she could do to keep from lashing out.

The Minor 'was' trying to be a good Samaritan and trying ever so hard to keep her temper in check. Yet with each new face that just seemed to fly at her out from the crowd she found herself challenged constantly by this constant buffoonery. It was easy to see that Ramia's patience was waring thin.

However something seemed to snap when the question came and her recollections of the passed few minutes came rushing to the forefront of her mind. She affixed Nyla with a hard stare.

"Oh, you wish to know what bothers me so?" Quite suddenly Ramia stamped her hoof and let loose all her frustrations. "My problem is that I'm plagued by buffoons like you! I'm tired of having to turn around and find one blubbering male after another bumping into or otherwise falling seemingly from the sky. I am a warrior of the Holy Covenant and I refuse to stand for any more of this nonsense. I'm done!" The whole while the Minor was flailing her arms about like a mad Unggoy with a plasma grenade stuck to its face. In all honesty it looked quite preposterous, but Ramia cared little at this point.

When she could no longer stand to bare the sight of any of them she turned on her heel and stawked off. Those onlookers who had stopped to see the commotion gave the infuriated Sangieli a wide birth. Those not paying attention were rudely pushed out of her way. "Idiots..." she grumbled. That's all males are, a bunch of meat-headed ignoramuses that never take her seriously on anything. All because they saw her as some meek little thing and not the warrior she was striving to be- no...the warrior that she is!

They will see, I will make them see...

[sarge33]

Zadab had taken his host of loyal followers atop the roof of a building to view the spectacle of the Demons demise. He watched in awe as it seemed the prophets summoned fire to incinerate the un-masked and un-armored demon....human. This was indeed a spectacle to behold.

As a deacon zadab had sermoned to his fellow unggoy about the humans demons. Many unggoys faith had wavered due to fear of this demon, they seemed to believe such a powerful advisary was no use fighting. As a result of this Zadab had been called upon more and more to assure his fellow unggoy that these demons were nothing to fear, lest they jeopardize their place on the Great Journey. Now Zadab had proof to back up what he preached to his fellows, and he planned to use this spectacle to set a fire underneath tthe unggoy. Next time it would be unggoy to kill a demon.

Shortly after the ceremony much merriment broke out and Zadab allowed his followers to enjoy themselves as he would be wandering the streets seeing what good he could do. His closes friend Agnat shook his head.

"Zadab! You too must have fun! Us want you to come party with us, please" Agnat begged his friend. Zadab merely shook his head.

"Iam sorry friend but the ceremony has only strengthened my zeal and I feel the need to be of some use to the covenant. However I promise that I will catch up with you if there is nothing I can do" Zadab said as a way to appease his friend. Agnat let out a sigh of methane, signaling he had given up. Soon he and the other unggoy were cavorting down the streets as fast as their tiny legs would allow.

As a deacon Zadab was used to wearing robes and had swapped out his usual white with blue trim ones for a more adorned set. These were green with a golden trim along with pendants that signified his post as deacon.

Zadab wandered towarda street heavily littered with unggoy stalls. He enjoyed seeing what his brethren had crafted or managed to obtain for this event. His attention was soon drawn to scene being made by sanghelie in close proximity to an unggoy jewlery stall.

Zadab saw an Unggoy assistant looking confused at what to do with the situation so he made his way over to the stall.

"Greetings, I could not help but notice you look distressed. My name is Zadab" He said as he flashed his sharp and pointy teeth in a smile and extended his right c;aw to the Unggoy.

(hoping to start a convo, anyone feel free to step in even elites)

[darthpit]

Darap was sitting behind the counter, listening to the Sangheili commotion, and staring out of his eyes, when he heard a voice talking to him. He tapped his employers shoulder, and handed him the supply boxes when he noticed him. Then Darap turned towards the owner of the voice.
"Oh, greetings to you too. I not distressed, just nowhere specific to look. I don't wanted to disturb the Sangheili. Mine is Darap." He accepted the greeting gesture, shaking hands with Zadab.
"You know it: Stay out of the way,..." He left the sentence open, the other Unggoy surely knew the line. He looked like he was of high class, fancy robes, jewelry. A merchant or a deacon.

[sarge33]

"Sorry, I am not sure what you mean" Zadab said a little confused by the unggoys expectation that he knew what he was talking about. By the looks of this unggoy Zadab was sure he was of lower class, although one could not be certain due to the current attire they all wore.

"So were you as inspired as I after seeing the execution of the Demon? It really was something to behold" Zadab said to Darap not waiting for a response. Zadab had a slight tendency to preach even whe he was technically off duty.

"Surely all unggoy will now be far more resolute in the tasks appointed to them, now that they see the sham of a demon those humans have fooled us into fearing for so long" He said almost pitting out the word human. Zadab turned this time and waited expecting for Darap to of course agree with him.

[darthpit]

"...Live another day! Haven't you heard that? The best combat strategy I hold it to be."
Darap listened to the deacon's words with piety. Then he frowned.
"Would be I more inspired if I saw it. They say the demon was burned with cleansing holy fire, but big stinky Brute stood in the way to I see. But it is good to know they can die."
Darap leaned closer to the deacon, and he took out his giver of faith and courage from under his robes, a broken half energy sword grip, hanging in his neck on a string. He whispered, like he was telling a secret no-one else should hear.
"Did you know they can kill Sangheili masters?" He said, like it was a common belief that higher class Sangheili warriors were invincible.


Ikno was walking from stall to stall, inspecting the goods with curiosity. It was a good time to relax. He wore dark green robes, a moderate but elegant one. He was thinking about the execution he saw. He heard much about the demons, but he has never encountered one before. If any of the humans were worthy to be welcomed into the covenant, they would be it. The demon would deserve a more honorable death than being burnt without the chance to see it coming. It would deserve a sword to end its life, and to face it, to see it strike down. With these thoughts Ikno was looking at some jewelry at an Unggoy's stall. Most of them a bit primitive in a way, but there were some quite pretty ones too. Then he heard a familiar voice. An Unggoy, the one he found alive amongst the dead, back on the battlefield. He was talking to another Unggoy, though Ikno wished to speak with him, he didn't want to disturb their conversation. If he keeps him in sight, he can talk with him later.

[sarge33]

"Thats a darn shame!" Zadab said aghast at hearing that Darap had not been able to see the incineration of the demon. As Darap spoke further Zadab let his mind and eyes wander along the bustling bazarr that had formed. He spied Unggoy attempting to sell cheap replicas of alleged artifacts and some Kig-Yar squabbling over what most would deem as worthless junk, but to them was treasure for their nest.
"Can covenant not always be this peaceful? Why must there be so much violence to be equals" Zadab wondered, but not for the first time nor the last. Coflicted would a good word to describe the Unggoy deacon. While resolute in his task to act as a guide for his race as well as champion, Zadab could not help but question what he was guiding them towards. Such thoughts were heretical in nature and it troubled him that his faith could be so easily wavered. Zadab was an Unggoy at war with himself, able to see how things did not add up, yet unwilling to change them due to custom and faith.

Zadab snapped back to what Darap was saying about the sangheili being able to die by.

"Aye, we can all die, but for those of use who die in the service of the covenant...fighting towards assuring each of us partakes in the Great Journey...we have actually lived, unlike those hethens" Zadab said with a smile towards this simple unggoy.

Darap seemed to be very simple minded and for some reason held the sangheili to be indesructable. Whether his reverance for them was out of respect for rank or hieracrchy in the faith was not clear, but Zadab felt it necessary to say a few words.

"Darap, do you know that you are the equal to any sangheili gathered here today? Not just because today we do not wear our armor and similar indications of rank, but everyday. I personally hold your and all unggoys trek through this life as substantial. Unggoy are the humblest beings of the covenant and the very backbone of it" Zadab said caring little for how preachy he came off. Idealistic was yet another way to describe this ambitous unggoy.

(OOC: sorry that took so long wisdom teeth were taken out and getting ready to go back to college)

[darthpit]

Darap stared at the deacon amazed.
"He died for our salvation? As a martyr hero. I must not fail his memory." He muttered. As he bears the 'remains' of a fallen hero, he must be worthy to it from this time forth. He must leave his excess cowardice behind.
"Are we?" He asked unsurely. He heard about it, but he just couldn't imagine how he could be equal with a Sangheili or Brute, moreover a San'Shyuum, even of the lowest rank. Being equal with Yanme'e, Huragok or Kig-Yar was acceptable for him though, if Kig-Yar really wasn't inferior.
"Even with the Sangheili and San'Shyuum?"
Brutes were superior for him only as one can't call someone easily equal, who is four or five times one's size in every dimension, and is usually grumpy.

[sarge33]

"Yes! He died to assure that all covenant could progress upon the Great Journey" Zadab said smiling at this grunt he was growing fond of. He quickly cought himself growing too content with having an unggoy agree with him and checked his ego. " I should be as happy to be argued with as I am to be agreed with" he thought to himself. It is all about the learning process, not following blindly. But he found it hard to believe this when he was forced often to follow others blindly.

Zadab cast his eyes downward as he heard Darap question that they could be equal to such vastly superiorly ranked races such as the sangheili and the San'Shyum.

"Every ones job is important towards partaking in the great journey, compared to what the San'Shyum do physically we are superior in that task, yet they delegate and analyze, yet another important skill." Zadab said trying to e as careful about sounding respectful yet honest as he could. "The sangheili are physically superior and even mentally superior, yet their honor gears them for war and they see dying for the cause more glorious than seeing the Great Journey. In contrast, we Unngoy are very much interested in doing oour part to assure theother races can do theirs, we are all interconnected and rely upon eachother, all vogs must be orking in this machine for it to move" Zadab said finally. He felt as though he may be confusing his fellow unggoy with his preaching but he was thoroughly enjoying his curiosity. Nonetheless, Zadab decided to ask a question of the Unggoy.

"So what is it like being in combat?" he asked having never drawb a weapon in his life, much less fire one.