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XX
-I have walked among men and angels for 3000 years-
Inexistence.
-I wander the earth seeking forgiveness for my horrible crimes against God and man-
There was no sense of self.
-I live to see death and destruction-
It was everywhere and nowhere.
-evil over the Light-
No feeling.
-But the Light cannot be extinguished-
Essence spread over an infinite volume.
-I live in a prison of my own demise-
Eternity…
-I am lost to time.-
Collapsed.
Green.
That was the first thing Noble Six noticed when he opened his eyes.
A forest, tall and unyielding trees stretching into the sky. Branches covered in bundles of dark green healthy leaves, blotting out the bright blue skies.
Six layed there, in the middle of a small clearing, staring into the leafy canopy above.
He shouldn't be alive.
Spartan-B312 raised his armored hand in front of his visor. The same as it had been before, no new damage whatsoever. He sat up, placing his hands behind him.
The nuke, it should have killed him. How was he still alive?
The Spartan stood, his movements as elegant and smooth as ever. He rebooted his HUD and checked his supplies. Shotgun, assault rifle, magnum, energy sword, combat knife. It was all still there. All his ammunition, all his gear.
He felt fine. No more injuries than he had already had prior to setting off the bomb. It didn't make sense. Six lightly shook his head. He needed an objective. He needed to regroup with the UNSC.
Six looked around him, thick trunks of trees blocking every direction but one. A small opening in the wall of bark, just wide enough for him to walk comfortably through. A little suspicious, but a godsend nonetheless.
He glanced at his motion tracker. Multiple unknown signatures in the trees around him, most likely the local fauna. Six pulled his assault rifle from his back regardless. He moved into the small opening, silently treading through the dense forest. He needed a plan.
Noble Six stepped over a fallen tree and continued moving forwards. He was without support on an unknown world. It couldn't be Reach, as the forest he was currently walking through would be nothing more than a scorched wasteland. That didn't leave him with much, there were many planets both in and out of UNSC territory that contained Earth-like flora. Most of which had been glassed.
The chirping of what Six assumed to be birds filled the air. It was peaceful, far more so than he had ever experienced before. It set him on edge. Six lightly thumbed the safety on his MA37, anticipating the inevitable conflict. But, as he continued walking through the forest undisturbed, it seemed that none would come.
Six noted the gradually thinning trees, which indicated that he was headed in the right direction. After another 20 minutes of marching through the forest, the Spartan finally reached the treeline. It opened up to a large field, green grass and sparse trees lining the plains. With the trees out of the way, Six was finally able to get a clear view of the sun. It sat just below it's hourly apex, roughly translating to mid-afternoon.
He glanced away from the shining star and looked back to the field. There was a strange dirt path that stretched from the visible east hills and into the western horizon. Six approached the path, keeping an eye on his surroundings. It was well beaten, recent footprints of both animal and what he assumed to be human origin lining the dirt. He glanced in both directions, contemplating which direction he should go.
Spartan-B312 eventually settled on west, and began his guarded march anew. He spotted multiple forms of the local wildlife, ranging from large quadrupedal animals with massive antlers to the ever recognizable form of a crow.
It was curious, this planet seemed to contain a very similar biosphere to Earth. While not entirely uncommon, seeing as the UNSC had seeded many life-bearing worlds with Earth-bound fauna and flora, the fact that this world was so similar slightly surprised him.
Six continued his journey, keeping an eye on both his surroundings and his motion tracker. Hours passed as the forests were slowly replaced with rocky hills. The sun began its steady descent, his large shadow lengthening in turn. The beaten dirt path turned into gravel, yet his quick footsteps made no noise.
He was surprised that he hadn't encountered anybody, human or otherwise. There was clearly some sort of sentient life present, the existence of the path he walked proved that. But the lack of an encounter still slightly put him off. What if they had spotted him, and had hidden themselves accordingly? Maybe they planned to ambush him once he made it farther up?
No, from their obvious usage of dirt paths for travel, they most likely weren't advanced. In which case he would have spotted them, and dealt with them accordingly. If they truly were as primitive as Six suspected, then they either weren't human whatsoever, or had been cut off from the UNSC for long enough to somehow degrade back to such barbaric levels. It wouldn't surprise him if that were the case, HIGHCOM had lost contact with many colonies over the past 27 years.
As the Spartan trekked down the graveled road, he spotted a light off in the distance. The sun had set completely by this point, allowing even those without augmented sight to see it. Six zoomed his VISR on the light source and stopped his advance.
It was a house. A farmhouse, to be more exact. A small white house with a covered porch, along with a large red barn. Two brick silos sat behind the barn itself.
The settlement was decidedly human in appearance, similar to old farms on Earth hundreds of years ago. Six found it slightly concerning that the humans here were so primitive, but chalked it up to his earlier cut off colony theory. Finished observing the home, the Spartan moved toward the farm.
As he neared, his instincts began to flare. Something was amiss. Six lowered his form into a crouch, quickly moving towards the porch with his assault rifle raised. Just as he was about to ascend the steps on the porch, a loud crash followed by a feminine scream emanated from within the house. Six was immediately on high alert, adrenaline flowing through his veins.
Noble Six bounded up the steps in a single lunge, before breaking down the wooden door with his shoulder. The door went flying off it's hinges and sent splinters of wood flying in all directions. Time slowed to a crawl as he observed the scene within, feelings of confusion lacing with cold fury. Inside was a most confounding sight.
The corpse of a middle aged woman in a bloodstained apron and light-blue blouse laid on the wooden floors. The handle of a crude looking dagger stuck out of her chest, just below her heart.
On the other side of the room was a man of similar age to the corpse, his face pale with both fear and pain. The source of his pain was the 2 foot long stone shortsword currently impaling his gut. The source of his fear held the sword in it's disgusting, grimey and most certainly alien hands.
The alien creature held the sword in place, it's purely evil grin matching those of it's two alien allies. The three little green creatures, with their bulging yellow eyes and disgusting alien smiles, surrounded the poor man. Six didn't even have to think about his next course of action when faced with such revolting creatures.
Noble Six aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger once, twice, thrice. Three thunderous shots rang out and their revolting corpses fell to the ground, all killed in less than half of a second.
His motion tracker showed no signs of more. Six moved across the room as the flow of time returned to normal. He crouched next to the man, who stared at him in absolute shock. If it was from surprise or blood loss, Six wasn't sure.
Six glanced around him for something to staunch the bleeding, but found nothing that would work well enough. The man himself wore nothing more than leather pants and faded blue overalls, now stained with blood. He didn't have any biofoam, and with nothing else suitable to bandage the man, Six knew he didn't have much time left.
The man looked down at his blood-soaked stomach, a look of realization coming to his pale expression. Placing his hands over his bleeding wound, he looked up into the Spartan's golden visor.
"S-sir Knight," he coughed out, "m-my daughter, in the first room across the hall. Bring her here please." Six contemplated the man's usage of the term "Sir Knight", before he stood and nodded. He crossed the hallway and found a slightly ajar door, a teary emerald eye staring at him through the crack. Six clamped his weapon to his back, and slowly pushed the door open.
A young girl, no older than 14, stood in a small bedroom. She wore a pair of black pants and a white long sleeve shirt. Long, dirty-blonde hair reached down to her waist. Her face had sharp features, with her long hair outlining her terrified expression. Six silently stood in the hallway and observed the young girl, before beckoning her towards the dining room.
Tears continued to run down her face as she stared at his towering form, and she took a tentative step forwards. She must have been standing at the door for a while, because her knees wobbled and she fell into the Spartan. She let out a light yelp, and struggled to regain her composure.
Six tensed, but otherwise didn't move. The girl slowly peeled herself from Six's armor, and took a step away. Noble Six gave her a small nod, and walked back into the other room, the young girl following after him.
They approached the girl's father, Six stood off to the side as the girl fell to her knees in front of him. The man slowly raised his head, giving the young girl a bloody smile.
"My beautiful baby girl." His eyes clouded over for a moment, before he seemed to snap out of it. He turned his pained gaze to the Spartan, "Sir Knight, I know I have no right to ask this of you, but will you escort my daughter in my stead?" The young girl's eyes widened, her tear stained expression becoming one of shock.
"Father…" She trailed off, tears beginning to flow once more.
"Where?" Six asked, his deep voice slightly distorted by his helmet's speakers. The man let out a rumbling cough, blood spewing from his mouth and on to his clothes.
"To a place called Frontier Town. Take the gravel road west from here, my daughter will know the way from there." more coughs racked the man's body, "My father, her grandfather, runs a blacksmith. Tell him of I and my wife's fate." He coughed again, more violent and bloody than the ones before it.
Six mulled over the man's request in his head. He had no real reason to refuse. It would be a simple escort mission, something he had only done once before, but knew how to do well enough. Plus, the girl could actually be useful if she could lead him to civilization. It would bring him one step closer to contacting the UNSC.
If he could contact the UNSC.
So, with his mind made up, Noble Six gave his assent in the form of a small nod. The man smiled, before turning back to his daughter.
"I won't last much longer, but I just-" the girl's father broke into a massive coughing fit, spewing blood and mucus onto himself. The girl's expression became even more distressed as her father slowly regained his breath.
"Father… are you-" the man put a bloodied hand up, interrupting her mid-sentence.
"I want you to take the knight to grandpa Smith." he paused, his already labored breathing beginning to slow, "You remember the way, don't you?" The girl slowly nodded, her very being seemed to be torn apart by the sight of her dying father. The man let out a low chuckle, quickly followed by another coughing fit.
Six noticed the man's eyes begin to gloss over, and knew that he was about to expire. The girl seemed to notice it too, if her devastated expression was anything to go by.
"Father…" she sadly said. The man smiled, though not at her. No, his gaze was focused on another time entirely.
"Yeah, I love you too honey." his head began to roll backwards, "I love you too…" a blood stained smile grew on his face, and his body went slack.
The girl stared at her father's blood-soaked corpse for a moment, before she bowed her head and sobbed. Six silently watched as her tears mixed with his blood on the wooden floor.
He had seen such a sight more times than he cared to count. Parents mourning dead children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters. At some point he himself had just stopped mourning and focused on fighting, so that they wouldn't have to mourn.
It always pained him how his efforts were in vain. At least Jorge had died thinking he saved lives.
Six glanced at the green corpses behind the girl. Each one of the strange creatures sported a massive hole in it's head, the result of his supersonic 7.62 rounds. They looked similar to jackals, Six realized. Just a bit less avian and more… alien. He turned his gaze back to the crying girl.
"How did they get in?" Six asked. The girl looked up at him, then pointed a shaking finger to her right. An open window in the corner of the room, just low enough for the short creatures to climb through. It was slightly puzzling how he hadn't noticed the creatures on his approach, but that didn't matter now.
He allowed the girl another 3 minutes to grieve for her deceased parents, ransacking the small house for anything useful in the meanwhile. They must have been a rather poor family, because Six found next to nothing that could be considered useful.
He returned to the dining area of the house empty handed. The girl stood over her mother's body by the doorway, her hands clasped together and her head bowed. After a moment silence, the girl raised her head and turned to the Spartan.
"I…" she paused, regaining her composure, "I thank you for saving me. Even if you were too late to save them." she lowered her gaze to her feet, "I-I don't have anything to pay you-"
"Irrelevant. I'll escort you to your remaining family, no payment is needed." Six interrupted. He was a spartan, it was his obligation to give his life in service for humanity. Even if it was just helping a recently orphaned girl. He glanced out one of the windows in the room, noting the twin moons in the starry night sky. "Get some rest, we'll head out at dawn." The young girl raised her head to stare into his visor.
"A-alright." she spared a final saddened glance at her deceased mother, before heading to her room. She paused at the doorway, "Goodnight, Sir Knight." With that, she entered her room, the soft 'click' of the door following after.
Six glanced at the bodies that littered the room. He would have to find a place to put those.
The unusual duo marched down the gravel road, the mid-day sun beating down on their forms.
The towering form of the Spartan walked just behind the much shorter teenage girl. Six held his MA37 in his hands as they moved, keeping a careful eye on the surrounding hills and trees. He and the girl had left her house around an hour earlier, making decent time on their journey.
They hadn't encountered any hostile presence since they had begun their trek, but that only gave Six more reason to be on edge.
"Um, Sir Knight…" Six slightly turned his head to face the girl, "E-excuse me for asking, but where is it you hail from?" Six remained silent, causing the girl's expression to become panicked, "I-it's okay if you don't want to answer! It's just that I've never seen such armor be-" Six interrupted her, returning his gaze to the path ahead.
"Classified." he stated, not wanting to give out more information than was needed, especially not on some unknown planet. The girl looked taken aback by his reply.
"'Classified'? What do you mean?" She asked.
"It means I can't tell you." The Spartan stated with a tone of finality. The girl looked slightly dejected, but continued to gaze into his golden visor.
"Will you at least tell me who you are?" she pleaded. Six noticed dark bags beneath her eyes, a clear sign of a lack of sleep. He was silent for a short moment.
"Lieutenant Beta-Three-One-Two." He noticed her confused expression, and continued. "You can call me Spartan." She maintained her confused stare for a moment longer, before a small smile came to her face.
"What does a spartan do?" she asked.
Six blinked in surprise. She didn't know what a spartan was? How? The UNSC had used the Spartan-IIs as the very figure of hope for the public. They had plastered them across all forms of media, greatly exaggerating their feats in the fight against the Covenant.
Then again, this place seemed to be greatly lacking in technology, so maybe Spartans hadn't had nearly as much exposure here.
Or maybe she was just really sheltered.
"A Spartan is a type of soldier. Anything beyond that is classified." Six replied. He noticed a split in the gravel road about 200 meters in front of them. One led to the north, while the other continued west. Six held out a hand to stop his companion once they had reached it.
"Which way leads to our objective?" Six questioned, scanning both of the roads. He noticed what looked like a wagon being pulled by horses on the western road, heading away from the two of them. The sight of such a primitive form of transportation only served to further confound him on the nature of this planet.
"We would go this way to get to Frontier Town." she answered, and pointed down the northern road. She turned her gaze to the other path, "This road leads to Water Town, a trading hub and holy city. I've never been, but my father used to go there once a month before he…" she trailed off.
Six noticed her expression visibly sadden at the thought of her deceased parent. He was no spook, and he had no idea how to deal with emotional people. Or people in general.
So he didn't.
"We need to move, you take point." Six turned to the northern path. The girl merely stared confusedly at him.
"Take point?" she asked. Six remembered he was dealing with a civvie, and decided to tone down his usage of military slang.
"Lead."
"Oh."
The girl spared him one more glance, and walked down the northern path. Noble Six followed closely behind her, rifle in his hands and eyes on their surroundings. The local star sat high in the clear blue sky, basking the rolling hills on either side of the trail in it's radiance. A steady 'crunch' followed his companion's footfalls. His own were completely silent, despite each step weighing nearly half a ton.
The duo steadily trekked down the graveled path. As they advanced, Six took notice of several people walking the same path. Some of them wore outlandish and completely impractical armor, with massive swords and spears on their persons. Some others wore long hooded robes, wielding ornate crystal-laden staves. They all reacted to his presence the same as any other civilians had in the past, stopping in their tracks and staring in both awe and fear.
He ignored the stares of the passers-by and continued on, ignorant of his companion's uncomfortable expression.
They soon reached the outskirts of a large town, what Six assumed to be Frontier Town. It consisted of a large assortment of two to three storey tall buildings that lined miles of dirt and stone roads. The buildings were mostly constructed of wood, stone, and glass, although there were some that incorporated more metal into their structures. Crowds of people lined the sidewalks, while carts, carriages, and horses went about their day in the streets.
It was a rather outlandish sight for the Spartan. He was more accustomed to smoldering kilometer high spires and asphalt streets when he thought of cities. Those were the only ones he had ever been to, though he doubted this would even count as a 'city' by UNSC standards.
The people were some of the strangest he had ever seen. Some were tall and muscular, wearing flashy armor with oversized melee weapons. Others were strangely short, short enough that Six would have simply written them off as having dwarfism, had it not been for their normally proportioned body parts. Some even had weirdly deformed ears, the top part being long and pointed outwards.
It briefly occurred to Six that he had not seen a single firearm being used by anyone. There were swords, spears, staves, and even bows. But no guns.
That was both confounding and reassuring. A lack of firearms meant that no one would stand a chance against him. Not that they could have beaten him if they had them, it would just make it easier to dispatch them without having to dodge bullets.
Six's head was on a swivel as he followed the girl through the crowded streets. The population gave him and his companion a wide berth, being too awed or afraid of his imposing form to get near. The Spartan made a mental map of the areas they moved through, just in case the situation escalated. Being tactical was his forte, and an unfamiliar world was no excuse to slack off. In fact, it was all the more reason to be cautious.
After another few minutes of traversing the streets, they came to stand in front of a two storey building. The structure was rather plain, with a single glass panel on the front and a black door as an entrance. A wooden sign sat above the door, simply labeled "Smithy."
The two went inside, and were greeted by weapons upon weapons. The walls were lined with swords and armor, each piece unique in some way. Axes and clubs sat upon a counter to the right of the entrance, next to a rack of chainmail. The shop was currently devoid of customers, with a single employee standing behind the front counter. The girl approached the counter, Six following a few feet behind her.
The employee looked surprised by their sudden appearance. He quickly took in the Spartan's appearance, then switched his gaze to the girl.
"Farm Girl? What are you doing here?" he gave the towering Spartan a nervous look, his eyes roaming over his black MJOLNIR. "And whos this?" The newly dubbed 'Farm Girl' gave the man a small smile.
"This is Spartan, and he's a knight. ...I think." she glanced back at Six, who stood stock still just behind her, "He saved me from a goblin attack at our farm." she lowered her gaze, a sad frown overcoming her features, "Father and mother… they didn't make it."
Six continued to stand unmoving behind his companion. The girl being called 'Farm Girl' was strange. Probably due to another oddity in their culture. However, he found the name 'goblins' for those disgusting green creatures fitting.
The man looked at Six in surprise, and a distraught frown overtook his expression.
"I… I'm sorry. We should have sent out adventurers to clear them out." the man ran a hand through his dusty blonde hair. Farm Girl sadly shook her head, raising her gaze from the floor.
"You know we couldn't afford it. And even if we could have, no one likes goblin jobs. It just isn't worth it."
Six's brow furrowed underneath his helmet. Adventurers? Jobs? Why hadn't the local military killed off the so-called goblins? It was clear they weren't under the UNSC's jurisdiction, as they would never have allowed their people to use such barbaric technology. That also left the question of who actually governed these people. And how he was going to contact his own.
The girl and the employee exchanged a sad look, and the man let out a sigh. He sent a brief glance behind him, before facing the young girl once more.
"I'll go get Smith, he's in the forge working on a special order. I won't be long." with that, the man turned and disappeared into a doorway to his right. Farm Girl let out another sigh as turned to face Six.
"I know I've said it before, but thank you for all you've done." she thanked him, a small earnest smile on her face. Six opted to retain his silence, and gave her a simple nod. He really didn't like dealing with civilians. Farm Girl stared into his golden visor for a moment longer, looking like she wanted to ask something, but decided against it.
All was silent in the shop. Six could hear faint conversation from the 'forge' with his augmented hearing, but it stopped before he could pick up anything useful.
He took the lull in activity to consider his current predicament. He had detonated a nuke on a Covenant carrier, which should have killed him, but didn't. He woke up in the middle of a forest on an unknown world surprisingly not-atomized, and followed a path to a farm. Said farm was under attack by some sort of indigenous - or possibly alien - species, called 'goblins', and he ended them. He had, so far, not seen a single sign of UNSC presence, which pointed to one thing.
Insurrectionists.
But even that made no sense. Nearly every Insurrectionist cell was destroyed by the time the Covenant invaded Reach, most of which was by his hand. Plus, the civilians would have recognized the UNSC insignia on his chest plate and attacked him if that were the case. Their lack of firearms or motorized transport was another point against them being Innies. But if they were neither UNSC nor Insurrectionists, then what were they?
And how did they get here?
Six realized that there were most likely no communications relays on the planet. Without that, he had no way of contacting the UNSC. His stomach fell at the realization, any hope he had previously felt quickly left his being. He was stuck.
B312 felt the dark clutches of hopelessness grasp at his psyche, thoughts of defeat attempting to crumple his iron will and steadfast determination. He erased such ideas with a thought. Six couldn't afford to be compromised. If the UNSC weren't here to give him orders, he would have to make his own. It was his very duty to protect humanity from those that threatened them.
Threats both inside and out.
Six's silent musing was interrupted by the arrival of the owner of the weapon-producing establishment.
"-told me sooner. I woulda' slaughtered those green bastards m'self!" a rumbling, most definitely male, voice angrily stated.
A short and very muscular man stepped behind the counter, followed closely by the blonde employee. The short man wore a sturdy looking blacksmith apron and leather gloves. He had thinning white hair atop his head and a large beard of the same color. The man walked out from behind the counter, his employee following after him.
"Boy was never the brightest, now he's gotten himself and his wife killed! Bah!" The old man fumed. He turned to face Farm Girl and the Spartan. "Ah! It's good to see you, lass. I just wish it was under better circumstances." His tone turned somber as he addressed the downcast teen, his one open eye portraying his own sadness.
Farm girl looked to her grandfather with a small smile, "Me too, grandpa Smith." Smith switched his gaze to the towering Spartan, his eye observing the armor Six wore.
"And you're the knight that saved my granddaughter?" Six gave the man a nod, the rest of his dark form unmoving. He just wanted to get this ordeal over with. The blacksmith scanned Six's MJOLNIR with a critical eye, letting out an impressed "Hm" once he was finished. "The armor you wear is more impressive than any I've seen in all my years." Smith eyed the Spartan's golden visor, "Who made it?"
Six made the quick decision to keep any and all information pertaining to the UNSC to himself, now sure that these people were not related to either them or the Innies. "Classified."
Smith crossed his massive arms and let out a dissatisfied huff at the word, mumbling to himself as he turned back to his assistant.
"Take my granddaughter to the guest room upstairs and get her a change of clothes." he paused, giving Farm Girl a glance, "Get some food in her while you're at it, she looks paler than an elf." Smith's assistant gave him a nod and led the girl to the door behind the counter, disappearing from view as the door swung closed behind them.
Smith turned back to the Spartan. "Now, I'm sure you had your reasons for savin' her, but I'd like to thank you myself. Pick any one item that catches your fancy, and it's yours."
Six felt a small amount of surprise at the old man's offer, but knew that anything the shop had to offer would be far inferior to what he already had. Energy sword beat greatsword any day. And he didn't need another weapon. He needed a situation report.
"Unnecessary. I need information." the old Smith raised a fuzzy brow at that.
"Then I'll answer anything to the best of my ability. Ask away." Smith stated. Six pondered on where he should start, and settled on the first hostile element he had been exposed to on this world. Goblins.
"Why hasn't your military eliminated the goblins?" Six questioned. Smith looked surprised by his inquiry, and a bitter scowl formed on his face.
"You're not from around here, are ya lad?" he let out a humorless chuckle, "The King's forces are all far too busy fighting off the Demon Lord's armies in the west to provide security against "mere goblins"." his tone was painfully sarcastic.
Six furrowed his brow beneath his helmet, even more confused than before.
Demon Lord? Was that some kind of name for an opposing nation's leader? Perhaps he had earned the title in combat. Whoever this person was, they were probably dangerous.
The blacksmith continued, "And yet, they still tax us endlessly, claiming it keeps us safe from the hordes of demons the King's armies keep at bay. Bah! It's all hogwash, I tell ya." Smith paused, realizing he had been ranting. "Ah. I apologize. Didn't mean ta' go on like that. Anythin' else ya want to know?"
Six pondered for half a second, a thousand questions flowing within his augmented mind. Eventually, he settled on something he had heard Farm Girl mention earlier.
"What are adventurers?" Smith was slightly surprised by the question, if his raised brows were anything to go by.
"You don't know what adventurers are? Your home must be pretty far away, then." the short man looked out the front window, his gaze idly following the passing crowd, "In short, adventurers are mercenaries-"
Six felt his neutral mood dampen at the mention of them.
"-that operate through a government-sponsored system called guilds. People have problems, like goblins, and post a quest at the guild, along with a reward." Smith gained a slightly sour look, "If the adventurer returns with the quest completed, the royalty takes a ten-percent "occupational fee" outta' the reward."
The Spartan noted the air quotations Smith made when mentioning the fee.
Smith let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, "It's the reason the King doesn't patrol these parts. They make a killin' off a' the perils of their own Frontiers-men. A shame, to see greed persist over the lives a' the people."
Six considered the information the blacksmith had given him. He detested mercenaries with a cold passion, their lack of loyalty and insatiable greed making them less than even Innies in his eyes. Nothing more than scum.
But…
These adventurers technically worked for the government, even if they got their jobs from private contractors. That alone wasn't enough to raise his opinion of them. They probably held no loyalty to those they worked for, and would leave them in a heartbeat for more monetary gain if the opportunity presented itself.
And B312 was stuck here for the foreseeable future. He would need currency. Food and water. He didn't need to eat nearly as often as the average human, but he would have to eventually. And while he didn't expressly need shelter, seeing as his MJOLNIR essentially protected him from all but the worst of nature, a base of operations would be convenient.
And being an adventurer - if temporarily - would allow him to fight that which wished to harm humanity. Whether it was the disgusting goblins or this so-called "Demon Lord", anything he could to do while he waited for the UNSC to find him would be fulfilling his primary objective.
Six came to a decision, one that would mark the beginning of the end for an unbroken system a hundred-millennia old.
He would become an adventurer to fight that which opposed humanity.
A spartan mercenary. The very thought left a foul feeling in his stomach.
"How do I become an adventurer?" Six questioned bluntly. Smith stared at him, his single open eye widening in surprise, before he let out a boisterous laugh. Six found the situation far less amusing than the blacksmith did, as his unseen flat stare conveyed. Smith's thunderous laugh quickly subsided as the man got a hold on himself.
Smith embarrassedly cleared his throat, "I, uh, apologize. It's just that ya reminded me a' somebody else. He's a lot like you, gives me a lotta work, too."
Six was silent, not caring for the man's comparison.
Smith cleared his throat once more and steeled his expression, "It's a rather straightforward process, really. Go to the guild hall, ask the people at the front desk ta' become an adventurer and fill out the paperwork." Smith pointed a meaty finger at the front window, "The guild hall is just across the road. It's the large tavern toward the end a' the street, ya can't miss it."
Noble Six turned his head to look where the old blacksmith had indicated. It was just as he had said, a large wooden tavern across the way, with large lettering across the front coining it "Adventurers Guild". He turned back to the old man.
"Thanks."
"It's nothin'. Now, if that's all ya wanted ta' ask, d'ya mind answering a question of my own?" Smith questioned, his tone slightly apprehensive. Six thought for a second, before giving the blacksmith a nod.
Smith grinned, "I'm pretty sure those things on your back are weapons, but they're none I've seen before. What are they?"
Six hesitated to answer. While it was common knowledge in UNSC space what firearms were and how they worked, that obviously wasn't the case here. But he didn't see any harm in giving the blacksmith a general summary of their function.
It wasn't classified information, after all.
"They are firearms, more commonly called 'guns'." B312 pulled the MA37 from his backplate, "This is the MA37 Individual Combat Weapon System. It fires six-hundred rounds - small, metal projectiles - per minute at supersonic speeds." Smith listened intently as Six spoke, his single open eye focused on the weapon's structure. His expression became slightly puzzled when the Spartan finished speaking.
"How fast is 'supersonic'?" Smith questioned.
"Faster than sound."
Smith's eye widened dramatically, "What?! How is that possible?"
"Explosions." Smith looked incredulously at Six, thinking he was joking.
His silence told him he wasn't, "Your people use explosions ta' shoot pieces of metal? As a weapon?" Six nodded in affirmation, "That…" Smith put a meaty hand to his beard, "Sounds rather effective, actually."
He had no idea.
"Very." Six clamped the assault rifle to its place on his back. He looked back out the front window, noting the position of the sun. He would need to leave soon if he wished to consult the guild. Six returned his gaze to the blacksmith. "I need to go. Thank you for your time."
Smith gave him a friendly grin and stuck his hand out, "No, thank you. You've saved my family's bloodline, and I don't think I can ever truly pay ya back. But if ya ever need an actual weapon, you come here. Got it?" Six firmly grasped his hand and shook it, careful not to grip too tightly, lest he pulverize the man's limb.
"Affirmative."
With that said, Six exited the blacksmith's shop and briskly walked down the stone sidewalk. The people around him pointed and stared. B312 made sure to show no outward signs of noticing their attention, lest he garner more of it.
The Spartan approached the large wooden doors at the front of the Adventurers Guild. He reached a hand out to the right door and pushed it open, revealing the interior of the building. Six carefully observed the inside, his hidden eyes taking in every detail.
The inside of the building had similar architecture to everything else he had seen in the town. Tall wooden walls held up the high rafters and ceiling. Flaming lamps lined the walls, providing light in the darker portions of the building. The front desk was directly across the foyer from the doors, two females stood directly behind it.
Multiple wooden tables sat in the open area, some of their seats filled with assorted adventurers, with most of them drinking from large cups of what he assumed to be alcohol.
Six stepped inside and closed the large door behind him. He took one step forward, and the floor creaked.
One particular adventurer, a female in shining white armor with a greatsword, spared the noise a glance.
And she gasped. Loudly.
Her companion, a black-haired armored male with an even bigger greatsword, looked to see what had gained her attention. His eyes widened and he too let out a startled and needlessly loud gasp.
The next person to look in his direction, another male with strawberry blonde hair and blue armor, followed suit. Exaggerated gasp. But this time, it gained everyone's attention.
The ensuing silence and feeling of stares were almost enough to make Six reconsider what he had come here to do. Almost.
Six stood still for the half-second it took for him to process the guild occupant's reactions, then moved to the front desk. His usually inaudible steps were akin to rolling thunder in the deafening silence that permeated the guild.
The Spartan stopped just in front of the wooden front desk, and stared down at the wide-eyed blonde woman behind it. The woman wore a navy-colored vest with a white long-sleeve shirt and a black pencil skirt. Her strangely yellow eyes stared into his emotionless visor in slight fear and awe.
"I'd like to join the guild." Six's deep monotone cut through the silence like an energy sword through butter. The woman behind the counter slightly recoiled at the sound of his voice, but recomposed herself quickly.
The lieutenant could practically feel the stares boring into his backside.
The guild worker gave him as friendly a smile as she could manage, "O-of course!" she winced slightly at her stutter as she reached under the desk. She came back up with a piece of official looking paper and a quill. She placed them on the counter in front of the Spartan, "Just fill out the areas where prompted."
Six nodded in understanding and grabbed the quill. He briefly inspected the ancient writing tool, before he dipped it in ink and got to writing. He quickly filled out the form, omitting any information that might be considered classified.
The Spartan paused when he got to the name section. He was aware of the strange naming system the people on this planet seemed to use. Their occupational titles in place of actual names. If he wanted to avoid any more suspicion than he already garnered, he was going to have to adhere to the same cultural rules.
Spartan it was, then.
Six finished up the rest of the form with impressive speed and placed the quill in its ink canister. He pushed the paper towards the woman, who blinked in surprise at the speed in which he had finished.
She lifted the form in her hand and skimmed over it, her eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment of silence, she gave a satisfied 'hm' and nodded, before reaching under the counter once more and coming back with a white necklace.
"This is your adventurer's tag!" she held it out to him. Six took it from her after a moment of hesitation, "This indicates what rank you are. Since you're a beginning adventurer, you'll be starting out as porcelain, which is the lowest rank." the girl pointed to a paper covered board attached to the wall, "Since you're porcelain, you can only go on porcelain ranked quests. Higher ranks can go on lower ranked quests, but unless you're in a party with an appropriately ranked adventurer, you can't go any higher."
Six nodded. It made sense. Keep those who are of certain rank within their own skill range. He wondered how he was supposed to reach higher ranks. Was it like getting promoted? Increase in rank through proving yourself capable?
He probably wouldn't be here long enough for it to matter, anyways.
The woman continued with her explanation, "Once you think you're ready for a promotion, you can request an interview with either me or Inspector." she gestured to a brown haired woman in a similar uniform, who nervously waved at him. The blonde woman straightened her back and clasped her hands in front of her, flashing the Spartan a dazzling smile, "Welcome to the Adventurers Guild!"
Six let out a silent sigh at the cheers that followed.
He hoped the UNSC would find him soon.