Hello, everybody, The New Mandalord is here.
This is my first attempt at writing a T-rated romance, and I failed so badly at it. Without question. The first draft was horrible and went nowhere. Fortunately, I have a super awesome friend/rival named Fuuko no Miko, who knows exactly how to write cheesy fluff.
Anyways, time to give credit where credit is due:
Destiny is owned by Bungie and Activision. All rights reserved.
75% of this story was written by Fuuko no Miko. Seriously check out her work, it's awesome!
25% was written by me. Characters and actions reserved.
And as always, read, favorite, and review.
There was once a time when each planet in the Sol system was covered with the technological and social marvels produced by humanity and their mysterious allies, the Awoken. Then, by the winds of fate or hubris, alien species driven by an unrelenting fervor came and destroyed the majority of it. Each planet, including the moon and most of Earth, had fallen to them. The metropolis, later known as the Last City, would have fallen too of it was not for the sacrifice of the Traveler. From that, the Guardians were born. Blessed with the Light and a personal Ghost, the Guardians were tasked with braving the wilderness and taking back their world.
"Can anyone here explain the role of each guardian?" The instructor asked his class of young initiates.
"Titans built and protect the Wall," a young human boy shouted.
"Hunters go out a fight our enemies alone," an awoken girl said with obvious pride.
"And as Warlocks, our job is to go and find new knowledge and technology for the City," a newly repaired Exo said in its oddly male voice. It still puzzled him why his ancestors decided to make the Exos have genders, besides aesthetic reasons.
"All correct, if you were just repeating from the text," Andrew said. "I asked you what is their role, this means beyond what they do for the Traveler. Tell me, how can you distinguish from each?"
His class fell silent as they contemplated. Their earlier confidence was clearly shaken, and beginning to crack. One, a female Exo, said, "It's easy, sir. Titans wear heavy armor, Hunters from their hoods and thin build, and Warlocks from our helmets and cloaks."
"Again, right - if I was asking for something from your text. You are all going to be warlocks some day. You all know this, but you are too afraid to expand on it. Why is that? And that is a question." If they were tentative before, they were nearly catatonic now. Andrew had to call on one in order to get a response. "Shu!"
"Yes, sir?!" He blurted, more surprised to hear his own voice.
"Yes that you can answer the question or yes that your name is Shu? Which is it?"
"Um... Well..." The poor boy gulped. Andrew didn't mean to make this kid the class goat, but it would serve to get the lesson across. "Because we are afraid of getting it wrong."
"And you believe this to be a bad thing, because...?"
"Well if you are wrong then we don't learn anything."
"If you're wrong and willing to learn from it, then that is knowledge gained. You were all focused on being wrong that you chose to do nothing. Doing nothing is the worst you can do because then nothing is gained. I asked what is the role of each guardian. This means, how we can generate light. For a Titans, it is their personal strength. For a Hunter, it is their discipline. And for a warlock, it is our intelligence. For a Warlock knowledge is power."
He let his words hang there and hoped that they would get it. The ones who had journeyed out into the frontier would catch on faster than the recent indoctrinated, so that was the most he could hope for.
"Class is dismissed for the day. Be sure to continue your studies. Trust me, I can smell out a few lazy sods who call themselves lore masters," a few of them chuckled ate that. The last one who called himself a 'loremaster' was a human boy who contributed nothing to the order and just ended up lighting his own pants on fire for the amusement of the class. Needless to say, he had never been seen again, though confusing and badly written notes marked would end up in his post box. Most he discarded, others he kept for humor sake.
The Warlock Order was one of the few places to the City that only members could freely come and go, visitors needed to be escorted and supervised constantly. The Order's main Archived housed thousands of rare relics from the Golden era, and though they may seem priceless to the order they could make a very fine price to the right buyer. The City was everything but pure, even with a supposed God hanging overhead.
His Ghost, Little Light, floated up to him, "Riveting speech, but I don't think they'll get the meaning until after they get real experience in the field."
"Better they learn it here than on the business end of a fallen wire rifle. I'm just glad they haven't blown each other up... yet."
"I don't even want to know," his Ghost said with faint interested, that usually meant it had urgent business for him. "I received a relative urgent message for you, Andrew."
"I swear, if Qorin wants me to do another scouting mission at the cosmodrome, I will-"
"Before you say anything that could have you in hot water with Master Qorin, I think you may want to know this; it came from Titan Layla Robinson."
"Layla? She's back?" There was an obvious hint of excitement in Andrew's voice. He had heard that the Titan had left days ago to eliminate another abomination of the Hive, so was her duty.
"She is awaiting you at the main gate. I would - hey wait!" Before the ghost could finish, it had to chase its partner who was on a dead run.
Their households had been close allies for centuries, both fathers had fought together for the city in the many wars with the Fallen, Hive, Kabal, and Vex. Layla's father was a powerfully built Titan of great power who lived in one of the original seven fortresses, a large and dependable estate where only the oldest, most prestigious, and venerated could reside in one of those. Andrew's own family came from as recent generation of warlocks, and just like his parents and forbearers, was tasked with going out into the great unknown to bring back answers of the Golden Age, and to teach young warlocks the simple necessary skills.
One of those necessary skills, unfortunately, is not cleanliness. For processing a near godlike mind and mysterious power of the Light, Andrew's room was sumptuous, nor tidy. His study within the Order mimicked that of a museum that had seen better days, with items being left in places wherever he happened to set them, or stacked in piles that defied both reason and gravity.
"How I got paired with you is beyond me," his Ghost sighed.
Andrew was throwing random objects aside, creating new piles in the process. Datapads and scrolls, Golden Era books, large tomes with Sanskrit pages, ancient almanacs, and scrolls printed on animal were being opened, observed, and then discarded haphazardly.
"Where is it?! Where is it?!" He took out a dried fallen finger from one book. "Huh, been looking for this, but.." He threw it aside.
"What are you looking for?"
Andrew continued to ignore his Ghost. "Ah! Found it!"
He held up a necklace that was a miscellany of warlock insanity. Unlike most of the overly decadent creations that could be found in any of the City's large bazaars, this one was one of a kind. Made from the smaller scales of an Ahamkara that he found or confiscated. They fanned out like two great wings, polished dark green and bronze scales that would look intimidating on any day, with a blazing red-orange jewel in the center. It was one of the rarest gems he had ever found. He called it the Heart of Europa since that was where he found it and it seemed to pulse in light.
He knew that she would love it. Andrew pocketed the necklace and navigated to the refresher.
"How does my hair look?" He checked in the mirror to attempt to organize the thick mop of blond hair. "My robes? Eh - they're ok. What do think? Helmet? No helmet? Hey, I'm talking to you."
"You are really asking me for dating advice? If it would help, I can download some files on basic-"
"No time!" Andrew flashed past the little ghost. "I gotta go."
Another quick teleport jump and he was out the common area, another blink and he was out of the sleeping quarters. With one more he was in front of the Cryptarch Temple. Only a few more, and he'd be at the front gates.
How long had he been since he had been in her company, honestly? Thinking back on the day he met her, he couldn't recall most of the days before then. If she noticed his frequent staring, she didn't do anything about it. His companion was silently writing things down and shifting through inventory and repair documents, her fingers indicating something to herself every so often.
Layla was waiting for her friend for nearly ten minutes. She passed the time by relaxing against one of the impressive tall green sphinxes with the bodies of lions, the wings of eagles and the tails of deadly serpents. One has the face of a man, the other a woman. Layla was not as knowledgeable about art, but she was fairly sure that this creature would scare more guests away then invite. As if the Warlock's outward appearance and "friendly" demeanor couldn't do that.
They all wore their long great coats that were accustomed to their order. Some were rather plain and dull, others had finely crafted ornamentation made from otherworldly materials. The same could be said for their round helmets. Some were simple chrome domes, others could send their enemies away screaming in fear. One was in the shape of a crow's head, and she was fairly certain another was a ram's skull.
Their most distinguishing features were not their helmets or coats thought, it was their arm bands that they wore the upper arm of their dominant hand. The Warlock Bond, she was told, was meant to show their lineage, achievements, or allegiance. No different from the cloaks hunters wore, or her own mark of the Titans, but the bonds had other meanings as well. Titan's Marks were meant to serve as a reminded about the fallen dead from years past, Hunter's Cloaks were all about their habit of tracking and killing, Warlock's were the few that should how intelligent they were. Two-head Eagles, burning sashes, green balefire, red eyes, and vultures were all a mystery to her, but to the Warlocks they held important meaning.
"Hey! Layla!" A voice called from behind her. A warlock in bronze, silver, and golden robe was jumping in and out of existence towards her. Compared to most of her friends, Andrew was the oddest out of them all. He was tall, with a lean muscular build and broad shoulders hidden underneath his loose fitting coat. A subtly handsome face with delicate cherub-like features that are deceivingly innocent, concealing a more devious personality, indicated by his impish grin.
She smiled at him. "Hey."
He grinned back.
Then and there he wanted to pull out the necklace from his pocket, present it to her and tell her the significance of this magnificent trinket, what she meant to him, and why he was giving it to her. He wanted to warble out an eloquent speech about how beautiful and wonderful and sweet he thought she was and how he wanted to take her out and paint the town red.
"What's up?"
His inner self just about face-palmed at the words that came out of his mouth…so much for eloquence!
The Warlock had a thing for the Titan. The fierce, beguiling warrior he had known since they were eating sour gummies and chasing each other in the city playgrounds. A childhood friend he had grown up with in between the peace and this current state of disarray their world is going through. He had dismissed it as nothing but a childish infatuation at first, but as they aged together he had come to realize it was a deeper emotion. And one night when he couldn't sleep despite his exhaustion he had come to realize he was more than just plain smitten.
Unfortunately, he was no expert on the subject and truth be told he wasn't sure how to go about it.
Does he ask her out? Impress her with flowers? Serenade her? Ask her parents?
"That one might not be a bad idea," He thought, but then recalled how her father and two older brothers would intimidate any other possible suitors.
He would scratch his head absentmindedly at times and she would joke about him needing dandruff shampoo.
He wished he knew how! Dammit.
Layla tilted her head, not knowing how adorable she looked doing it. "Wanna come with me to the Citadel? I need to do some shopping."
"Sure." He nodded a little too enthusiastically as he ran through his head the numerous scenarios there were for him to ask her out. Timing… the right words… the right moment… oh, so many variables! Where to start?
The Titan tried not to smile too much that he accepted her invitation. Truth be told she was a little nervous doing this. She's always gone out with him before but it's usually for a hunt. It was never anything like this…something more…personal so to speak.
The two of them started heading out by foot towards their point of destination.
"So where are we going?" he started off. His hand was deep in his pocket, fiddling with the trinket.
"To the Citadel… thought I told you that." She replied, raising a brow. "You and your non-existent attention span."
"I know, but… um… are we getting anything in particular? Meeting any merchants?"
"Wait and see Mr. Impatient." She directed her vision to the road ahead.
They walked against the crowd, close to each other but not touching. They both appeared calm not realizing their insides were both in somewhat of a knot.
It was becoming obvious that Andrew was obviously, painfully, out of place. He had not changed out of his Warlock greatcoat, gloves or boots, and the Bond of the Stormcaller that was crackling with electricity was not helping him look inauspicious. Most people who saw him gave him a wide birth, some going as far to cross the crowded streets, and muttering words like "Freak", "Witch", and "Monster" under their breath. Layla, on the other hand, almost looked like a regular civilian. If it was not for the way she carried herself, she would have been lost in the teeming masses. She had not donned her heavy ornate armor and instead had chosen to wear a pair of tight fitting jeans, red tank top, black boots that were polished enough to look fitting and a leather jacket that had the insignia of the Titans stitched onto the shoulders. She wore the Mark of the Sunbreakers around her waist, which earned her some respectful nods and looks of endearment from people passing by. Which then turned to scorn when they noticed Andrew.
Layla stole glances at her companion and he seemed to be a little too serious. The looks and jeers from the passing throngs of faces were doing something internally to him. She just hoped that it would not lead him into one of his infamous Dark Moods. The last one, she heard, lasted next to a month, and the cause was unknown. The results were that Andrew was held up in a cave somewhere in Old Russia with any of the House of Devils to afraid to go near it.
Andrew was taking side-way looks at Layla too. She was whistling.
Neither of them said anything.
The streets began to thicken as more people began to gather, marching on foot and waving banners. They held up long banners saying: "Down with FWC", or"FWC took my baby", or "Food 4 FWC = None 4 Us", and carried several straw idols of what was meant to be the Exo, Lakshmi-2 and several guardians who fought the faction. The Future War Cult was under much scrutiny lately since their current winning streak in the Crucible, but they required a lot of the regular citizens of the City - mainly food.
"Don't even think about it..."
The warning was uttered in a low, soft whisper, but lashed out like a whip's stinging bite. Andrew turned his eyes from his companion and cast a lingering gaze across the growing crowd; mostly young people with nothing but piss and vinegar flowing through them, but there were also grown men and women who were is despite need of real food and water. What broke his heart the most were the children.
Mixed in with the angry chants, he heard a few cries of "Justice" and "the voice belongs to the Speaker," of "down with the Consensus, long live New Monarchy," and even "the City is lost, the Traveler is dead, abandon this world and flee with Dead orbit!" From both sides of the street, several security frames and guardians wearing the dark blue, yellow and red began to mass before them, weapons at the ready.
"Feed us!" a woman shrieked. "Food!" boomed a man further down. "We want bread, not guns!" in a heartbeat, a thousand voices took up the chants relating to food. The Speaker, New Monarchy, and Dead Orbit were forgotten, and the only faction the mob belonged to was the Food faction. "Food," they clamored. "We're starving!"
To give them some credit the police Frames and FWC members were carrying non-lethal weapons, but faced with an ever growing mob and tensions growing higher by the second, one was bound to do something stupid. As canisters of tear gas began to fly through the sky and erupt amongst the crowd, all hell had broken loose. Many had rushed the police lines, with others were blinded by the smoke, and more protesters fled.
"Common, we need to get out of here." Layla pulled Andrew down the adjacent street. They ran down one street, with protesters and police frames on their heels. In this part of the City, the streets were a veritable maze of streets, side streets, and alleyways. All one had to do was go down an unfamiliar passage, and they'd be lost for days.
Andrew pulled Layla into a side alley and sunk down. The heavy footfalls of escaping protesters were like a pounding rain, while the chants of the chasing police were the thunder. The storm seemed to move quickly, but they hid there until there was all the sirens had died off.
"Close call," Layla said as they emerged from the alley.
"I know," Andrew said as he dusted his robe of debris. "All in a day's work." A corner of his mouth lifted as he reached to dust off some dirt off Layla's shoulder.
"Thanks." She said, trying not to blush a little as his hand brushed the side of her neck. She never admits to it but gets a little tingle of excitement whenever their skin came in contact with each other. She's felt like that for a while, and she enjoyed it.
Secretly she hoped he does too.
They started to walk again to the road they deemed was the one to their destination. It wasn't till a few hundred yards later when they got to a fork in the road that they both paused.
"Left or right?'
"What do you mean?"
"Do we go left or right?"
Layla was stumped. This road was unfamiliar to her. "Ummm…"
"You do know where we're going?" he inquired although the confusion on her features negated that thought. "Unless…you got us lost on purpose?" he joked as a fist found its way to his shoulder.
"Shut up Warlock." She pouted as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
"Are we going the here or there?" he raised a brow as he contemplated on how adorable she looked with her mouth twisted that way.
"Be quiet, I'm thinking!" she hushed as her eyes scanned both roads. She turned to the left and began to walk ahead.
"Is this the right way?"
"We'll find out now, won't we?" she shrugged as she just kept walking. The warlock hastened his pace to follow her lead.
They were really lost now.
He came to that conclusion ten minutes into their walk as the titan would pause and seem to speak to herself. He chose not to say anything. After all, he didn't mind following her around and watching her determinedly walk even if he knew she had no idea where they were going. Her short, golden hair flipped almost seductively as she turned her head here and there, as though looking for any familiar spot. Truth be told, he enjoyed their little adventure. They were mostly on an empty road surrounded by walls mostly and an occasional pedestrian passing by. Instinct tells him she didn't fancy asking anybody where they were…and he wasn't going to, lest she felt like he was undermining her.
"I can ask if you like…" he piped twenty minutes later as they turned into the third dead end and the frustration was far too evident in her features.
Her answer was a quick turn around and a rapid walking pace. "And here I thought men don't like asking for directions." She replied a little tartly.
"I'm not like other men." He chuckled a little as she turned her head to his answer.
The exasperation on her face disintegrated for a few seconds as she retorted. "That's what I like about you."
Luckily her sight was turned away from him as a wave of crimson spread on his face. Did she just confess to…?
"Here we go!" she concluded as she edged into a far-off nook they ignored earlier. "Move your hinder before they close!"
"Yes Ma'am!" he jogged after her disappearing figure.
"I told you I knew where we were going." She murmured as she slipped behind a curtained entrance.
"Sure you did."
"What?"
"Nothing…" he spoke louder as his eyes scanned the relatively brightly lit room they walked into. The warlock had to admit he was pleasantly surprised.
They were in a music store.
Numerous stringed instruments decorated the pale yellow walls of the stall they walked into. A variety of percussion instruments decorated the opposite side. A shelf of music sheets was filled with pieces from composers of old. Behind a counter, an older earthling plied his wares. He bent down the counter and produced a small, handcrafted wooden guitar. He handed it to Layla who ran her fingers lightly across the body of the instrument, as though reversing its beauty.
"It's one of the last instruments Master Natzram carved before he passed on." The older gentleman remarked.
"I know…I know…" she murmured as her eyes seemed to glisten. "He promised me he'd make it…one more time…for his best student."
"You mean his favorite student."
"Well, I was both." She smiled proudly as she dug into her satchel for payment, but the storekeeper closed his hands over hers.
"He would never want you to pay for a gift, Layla." He said as he pushed the Glimmer back in her hands.
"But this is my gift, not a payment." She smiled as she dumped the currency on the counter. "Get Master Natzram some flowers on my behalf."
"You know he hates them."
"So do I." she laughed as she took the guitar. "Some ale then, and chicken wings perhaps."
"Now you're talking." The shopkeeper laughed as his hazy gaze to the warlock who was smilingly watching their exchange. "You are a fortunate man for having her in your company." He remarked.
"But I…"
"Let's go." Layla hauled the guitar and exited the shop before he could say anything. Andrew turned to acknowledge the older man who gave him two thumbs up and a toothless grin.
"I didn't know you played the guitar." He commented as Layla started strumming a tune on the beautifully crafted instrument.
"It's been a while." She said seriously as she began to pluck notes on it.
The warlock started to hum along as she played. He knew the song she was playing…and truth be told, it was one of his favorite tunes. She paused to lean on an empty stall as she tickled the strings to the melody. People passed them by, pausing to listen to her for a minute or two before smiling and going on their way. Andrew, on the other hand, was mesmerized. Not only by the skillful way she was playing but how content she appeared doing so.
She became even more beautiful in his already smitten eyes.
Layla smiled to herself as she noted her scholarly friend admire her. She had picked this song particularly for him, albeit she was too shy to confess so.
She straightened up a few minutes later as she finished her piece amongst a loud applause by the small crowd that gathered around her, thought the loudest clap…had she noticed, was from Andrew. A pleasant grin was on his lips as she gathered her wits about her and motioned him that they were leaving.
"You're very talented." He remarked as he offered to carry the guitar for her. Layla accepted and helped sling it on his shoulder.
"That's what Master Natzram used to say." She spoke of her teacher with reference. "He was like a second father to me. He taught me about the arts, music…how to appreciate all the other things in life that you don't get to see on the battlefield."
"Amazing."
"I know I am…and so are you." She blurted out before covering her mouth and then blushing.
"Thanks." He laughed before raising his scarf to cover half his face that turned red at her compliment. "Oh look, sour gummies!"
A stall in the marketplace selling different confectioneries had put out a display of the sour candies. The warlock bent over to examine the merchandise before picking up a 2 lb bag of it.
"You eat that much?" the titan joked as he approached with the sizable container.
"Who says I'm the only one who's going to enjoy this?" he offered her the open bag, her eyes grew like saucers as she gladly dug into the treats they mutually enjoyed when they were children.
"Damn you, Warlock, you're ruining my diet!" she spoke through a handful of gummies that she popped in her mouth.
"You don't need to be on one." He said nonchalantly. "You look great the way you are." He smiled as he complimented her, "Hey save some of the green ones for me!"
"You snooze you lose." She stuck her tongue out, purpose grabbing more of the green colored sour candy.
The two of them laughed, nudging each other as they dug through the bag fighting over their favorite snack. They walked happily throughout the rest of the marketplace as they took their time walking back to their headquarters.
"Well, that was fun." She said as they paused by his doorstep.
"Even if we got lost and all."
"We were not lost."
He cocked an eyebrow. "So are you telling me you prolonged our date on purpose?'
She snorted. "Who said that was a date?"
He laughed nervously. "Can't blame a warlock for trying."
"I didn't realize you were." She stuck her tongue out before punching him playfully on the shoulder. "Besides, if that was a date you have to be the cheapest bastard I know. Who takes his date out for gummies?"
"Hey, you loved them."
"I didn't say I didn't."
A brief pause ensued as they held each other's gaze for a minute longer than they typically did.
"Well, I gotta get going." He broke the silence first as he turned around. "Warlock business…you know."
"Okay."
Andrew hurried up to turn the door, clumsily fiddling for his keys when he dropped something on the floor.
"You dropped something, warlock." Layla bent over to pick the necklace he had been saving all this time. She raised it to eye level, ignoring the fact that a brush of embarrassment, panic and excitement had crossed his pale features. She squinted, examining it under the light of the setting sun and tracing the gem in the middle. Her eyes showed admiration even as her voice remained unimpressed. "It's beautiful." She handed it back to him with a gentle shove and a smirk. "A little too girly for you, though."
He swallowed as he took the necklace from her hands. He tried to hide the nervousness in his speech. "Well…it's meant for a girl. That's why it's girly….and besides…the color doesn't match my eyes."
"Oh." She tried to hide a tinge of disappointment in her voice. "She must be special. That isn't cheap…and knowing what a cheapskate you are…"
"She is." He began to sound more confident. "She's very special to me. I've always looked for the perfect time to give it to her and I never could."
"Well, that's kinda lame." She spoke as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What is it with you men and the perfect timing? It's so cheesy! Give it to her already and if she likes it and she likes you, who cares about the timing? Well…except maybe if she's in the bathroom or having an asthma attack...but otherwise…" she stopped mid-speech when he motioned to put it around her neck.
"It's for you."
Her pretty mouth dropped open as he brushed part of her hair to put the necklace around her neck and clasp it. She didn't move a muscle as he went behind her to fasten it. She still had the stunned look on her face when he stood in front of her after his daring deed.
"It's not too girly for you." He spoke at last. "And I hope you don't mind the timing."
Layla looked at the beautiful gem on his present, still not saying a word.
Andrew gulped. The small moment of confidence he had slowly started to dissipate with every second she said nothing.
Maybe he shouldn't have paid attention to what she said about timing….
"Umm…"
Layla suddenly leaned over, planting a gentle kiss on his partly opened mouth. It wasn't a quick one. It wasn't that chaste either. It lasted for several seconds, with enough pressure on it for him to realize it was more than just a friendly one.
And just as sudden as she gave him that kiss she pulled away, a little giggle coming from her sweet lips. She turned about, with a hint of a sexy sway in her hips as she sauntered away from him.
"Thank you for my present." She turned her head and tossed him a saucy smile. "Love it."
"You're welcome." He said, still a little stunned as he touched his bottom lip, as though still reeling from her kiss.
"See you tomorrow." She turned about this time, walking backward as she did.
"Tomorrow?" a quizzical expression crossed his features. He doesn't recall anything on his agenda for the day after.
"For our date." She winked as she disappeared among the growing crowd heading towards the center of town. "And you have to feed me something better than sour gummies!"
"How about coffee ice cream with chocolate chips?" he hollered back.
"And plenty of ale!" she laughed as she vanished amongst them.
Andrew shook his head as he saluted her goodbye. Grinning to himself he turned into his abode and mentally tried to plan for tomorrow. This was going to be fun and no bounty hunting was going to ruin it. Hopefully.
Author's Notes:
Well, this had to be one of the hardest stories I ever partly wrote.
I give thanks again to Fuuko no Miko for writing the majority of this story, and most all of the romantic insanity that followed.
As for the characters, I always loved the warlock character because you are either mobile artillery that can create black holes, or come back from the dead and troll other players with the fire bombs. As for Ms. Layla, she is a crazy, hypnotic, love child of my incorruptible fantasies and Fuuko no Miko's fertile, perverse creativity. We have way too much fun with her, which also includes her, Claudine, and Nel. Have fun with that.
Nel: Oh I will.
Claudine: Me too!
Layla: Get a room you two!
Update 5/30/15: So apparently, my co-writer had told me to include the first part of the rough draft I had for this story. Did not know that, but it does make it longer. It also gives me a chance to make a call out to my most loyal fan, a cowardice, blood sucking parasitic troll who calls itself Lore Master. This person is my most "loyal" fan. Always reviewing and giving me plenty of laughs at the expense of its own idiocy.
Update 11/26/16: Just been updating a bit. Cleaning up my grammar and adding in a few details here and there. I have noticed from certain dialog choices of NPCs around the Tower and Vestian Outpost, that people of the City are distrustful of Warlocks and I wanted to show that a bit in the stories later on. Maybe I'll do a chapter where all of the remarks are eating away at Andrew internally. Who knows.