AN: There were several complaints about the failed rolls in the middle of the last chapter being jarring. So, I've decided to go with the suggestion that was made to put the failed rolls at the bottom of the chapter. Point gains will be written out in the next successful roll if a roll fails, to ensure you guys know how he got them. Also, for those of you that celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving!

The air in this forgotten Lost Sector presses down on me, heavy with the stench of mildew and the sharp tang of ozone. Crow is back at his storage container, sleeping off our trip into the Ascendant Plane. Me? I can't rest. Not with Bad Juju thrumming in my grip, eager for a taste of combat. This place will do nicely for its first test.

Shadows stir ahead, announcing the arrival of the first wave. A group of Taken Vandals emerges, their forms flickering with corrupted energy. I don't hesitate. My finger tightens on the trigger, and Bad Juju answers with a sharp burst of three rounds.

The lead Vandal staggers as the rounds slam into its chest, tearing through its form. It disintegrates in an instant, unraveling into nothingness. The rifle hums, pleased. Another burst finds a Taken Psion, ripping through its flickering figure and scattering glowing particles into the gloom. Each burst hits with the force of a Ballyhoo round, precise and devastating.

The rifle's true power comes alive as I press the attack. A second Vandal crumples under the onslaught, then a third falls moments later. The weapon's energy surges, its damage ramping up with each quick kill. By the time I turn my sights on a charging Taken Phalanx, one burst is enough to annihilate it from a simple glancing blow. I grin as orbs of energy spill from the remains of my enemies, glowing like fireflies in the dim cavern.

"About two times the energy…" I mutter, noting the rifle's generosity. The Ahamkara essence within Bad Juju must be responding to my hunger for power, feeding off my desire to replenish my strength. It's exhilarating, but also unsettling. If the gun can enhance my perks based on my will, what's stopping some other force from manipulating my perks against me? Something to consider.

The fight continues. More Taken pour into the chamber, their forms weaker than those I've faced in the Ascendant Plane. Each wave crumbles under Bad Juju's wrath. Every three kills after it's ramped up trigger a burst of Hive magic, an explosive pulse that tears through clustered enemies like a grenade. The rifle hums with satisfaction after every kill, reloading itself as it maintains the cursed chain. It's a fodder-killing machine, a perfect tool for regenerating my Light and energy mid-battle.

As the dust settles from another wave, I consider the weapon's potential upgrades. The ammo enchantment would require an Ahamkara tooth. Riven's corpse is sealed away in the Keep of Voices, locked up by the Awoken. I'm not exactly eager to go picking a fight with the Queen and her people, especially not when Bad Juju already feels like it has infinite ammo.

A low, guttural screech pulls my attention to the far end of the chamber. The boss has arrived; a towering Taken Wizard wreathed in an arc shield, its hands crackling with energy. It lets loose a barrage of arc bolts that scorch the ground where I stood a moment before. I leap into the air, wings of Solar Light flaring as my Daybreak ignites.

My Light coalesces into a flaming sword, and with a swing, I send a flaming arc of energy streaking toward the Wizard. The blast slams into its shield, breaking it. I follow up with a volley of Solar blasts, each one hammering into the creature with relentless fury. Its form wavers, the darkness around it unraveling under the onslaught.

Finally, I close the distance. My sword flares brighter, a final burst of Light carving through the Wizard's body. It shrieks, a sound of agony and despair, before crumbling into ash. The air falls still, the oppressive weight of the Taken's presence lifting. The sword disperses, my Light spent.

Spectre materializes at my side, her voice cutting through the quiet. "It's about time to head back to the city."

I nod, the adrenaline ebbing as I holster Bad Juju. All in all, it's a welcome addition to my arsenal, one that should let me weave my more powerful abilities into my combat loop more often.

Third Person POV:

"Did you hear? They're bringing back Armsday!" Ghost pipes up, his voice buzzing with excitement.

Sora looks up from polishing the Ace of Spades. "Really? I thought Banshee kept forgetting which day of the week it was."

Ghost bobs in an approximation of a nod. "He still does, but the Vanguard got someone to help him out every Wednesday. Remember your Wizard friend?"

Sora sits up a little straighter. "Mavriel? So they're having him work his magic then. I should pay him a visit before he gets swamped with work."

Mavriel POV:

With the return of Armsday, the Vanguard are offering my services to Guardians who rack up enough points through patrols, bounties, and Strikes. The more effort they put in, the more they can commission: non-Exotics only, anything that requires a stranger material to improve is entirely up to my discretion, separate from the normal system.

Exotic enhancements, naturally, fall to me to price as well. Nearly every one of them requires specialized materials, but sometimes you get surprises. A Guardian recently asked me to enchant his Suros Regime. No rare materials needed for that one. He seemed a bit put out that his favorite weapon wasn't exotic enough to warrant special materials, but he seemed happy to pay the normal price all the same.

The upside to my new arrangements? I'm making a fortune in Glimmer. Five thousand per standard enhancement, way more than I used to charge. At this rate, I could buy an entire jumpship fleet by the end of the day. It's more proof I'm terrible at running a business, as I could have charged more for my first round of enhancements. Fortunately, I don't actually have to do every one of the enhancements today; most of the weapons get dropped off for me to enhance over the course of a week, delivering them next Wednesday. I can only hope I figure out a way to automate the process before the demand outstrips my energy reserves, or else I'll have to run around with Bad Juju slaying enemies to regenerate my reserves every time I need to enchant a bunch of weapons.

Right now, I'm working on a Bad Omens rocket launcher, hunched over my ritual circle about to begin. Suddenly, two hands clamp down on my shoulders, and I leap like a startled Thrall, blinking several feet to the left out of pure instinct.

Sora doubles over, laughing so hard she nearly falls over.

"Not funny." I growl, scowling as my pulse returns to normal. "How did you even get back here?"

She wipes a tear from her eye, still grinning. "Are you kidding? I'm one of the best Nightstalkers in the city. I'd be a sorry excuse for a Hunter if I couldn't sneak past Banshee."

"Fair point." I mutter, turning back to my work. "What do you want, Sora? I'm busy."

{Claimed 'Bad Juju' 100 points

Rolling…

Benevolence - Sand Man - Fate/Legends: Oasis of Fantasy (200 points)

Roll Success. Current stockpile: 700 Points.

Purchase Sand Man?}

Sand Man

The deserts that the Hashashin made their homes in and spent most of their lives working in are unforgiving places. The natural terrain alone is among the more hostile environments in the world but when it is filled with spirits, monsters and magical hazards of all different kinds, it becomes like a hell on earth for anyone that needs to travel through it. The Hashashin built up a great many charms and rituals to allow them to pass through, many of which are now imprinted on your body. These charms grant you with an almost insurmountable resistance to the dangers of the wind, the heat and the sun. Even a hurricane concentrated into a single beam against you would not even make your hair flutter if you wished otherwise, only the hottest of magical flames burn you and harmful amounts of light simply bounce around your body instead of striking you.

Elementals and similar beings linked to these elements find that they take much more damage than normal from you, while they can sense that you are a being that could harm them badly. The charms in your body also largely remove the need for food or water from you, leaving you to need such sustenance only once a week at most. To pair with these charms is an extensive knowledge of how to survive in the desert even long term.

Functional immunity to fire damage? For 200 points?

Yoink!

My accelerated thoughts wind down as Sora hops onto a crate beside me, swinging her legs like a mischievous kid. "I've got a few Exotics I need you to work your mojo on. You said they'd need special materials, right?"

"Depends on the weapon." I reply, finally giving her my attention. "Lay three of them out on that table, and I'll tell you what you'll need to bring me."

Sora pulls Ace of Spades from her hip holster, placing it on the table. Her Ghost materializes the other two: Borealis and One Thousand Voices.

I start with the sniper. "For this one, you'll need a couple of Ascendant Shards and one of those batteries Ada's tech loves so much. Easy enough to acquire."

Next, I pick up Ace of Spades, turning it over in my hands. "For this one, you'll need something personal to Cayde. Did he have a deck of cards or anything like that he kept on him?"

Her expression softens as she pulls out a worn, weathered deck. "Of course he did."

I take the cards and the gun, walking to the ritual circle. With a steady voice, I recite the chant, letting magic flow into the weapon. "Lrasd ol lansh ol dluga mirc g gohed bagie!"

When the ritual finishes, I hand the weapon back to her. "I imagine its Exotic traits will have changed a bit since the gun doesn't require reloading anymore. It's up to you to test it out."

Her grin stretches ear to ear. "Sweet! And the other one?" She nods at the hulking One Thousand Voices.

I sigh. "For that, I'll need one of Riven's eyes. While you're at it, bring me a few of her teeth, and I'll waive Glimmer charges for these three."

Her smile falters for a moment. "Riven's eyes? Seriously?"

I shrug. "Ahamkara essence doesn't grow on trees. Besides, you're not afraid of a dead dragon, are you?"

She snorts. "Not one I killed, anyway."

"Be careful with those things. Ahamkara are trouble; even dead ones." I say.

She hesitates, then shrugs. "Fair enough. Just make sure you don't get yourself cursed while working on them."

I give her a flat look. "Coming from the Guardian who strapped Bones of Eao to her legs for most of the Taken War just to get an extra jump?"

She winces, clutching her chest dramatically. "Ouch. I miss those things."

"Yeah, yeah. Get your shit and get out, you loot goblin." I tease, waving her away without real heat.

"You know you love me." She shoots back, stowing her weapons. "Next Armsday?"

"Sure. Now shoo."

The night air is quiet in the Tower, save for the occasional hum of a passing ship or the soft murmur of Guardians swapping stories near the Hangar. After a long day of enchanting weapons and dealing with an endless parade of Guardians, the silence is a welcome reprieve.

The flow of Guardians seeking my infinite ammo enchantment slowed to a trickle after sundown, leaving me some breathing room. Most couldn't gather enough of the Vanguard's newly implemented points system on such short notice to commission my services. Next week, though? Twice as many will probably show up, and the thought alone makes me groan. I really need to find a way to automate this process.

Lost in thought, I almost miss the figure stepping out of the shadows near my ship.

"Heya Wizard." A voice drawls, carrying a tone that oozes mischief and something darker. "Didn't think I'd catch you out here this late."

I stop mid-stride, immediately on guard. "Drifter." I greet, my tone neutral. "What brings you skulking around here at this hour?"

He chuckles, stepping into the light with an easy swagger. "Just keepin' an eye on the Tower's movers and shakers. Word's out you're workin' some real strange magic on those weapons. Thought I'd come see for myself what all the fuss is about."

I sigh, crossing my arms. "If you're here for an enchantment, you'll need to talk to the Vanguard first. I'm not just handing out upgrades to whoever wanders by."

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, magic man. I'm not here for a handout. Got somethin'... different in mind."

I narrow my eyes, studying him. The Drifter is nothing if not an opportunist, and when he gets an idea, it's never straightforward. I might have liked him when he was just a character on the screen, but this version of him hasn't had any of the positive character development his fictional counterpart had. Still, I should at least hear what he wants. "Go on."

He grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "I've been thinkin' about makin' somethin'. A weapon. Hand cannon, to be precise. Something that could really pack a punch. I think your mojo would mix well with what I've got."

My brow furrows. "You want me to help you make a gun? Why not just hit up Banshee?"

"Banshee's good, don't get me wrong-" He says, waving a hand dismissively. "But this ain't your garden-variety cannon. I'm talkin' about somethin' with a little more... bite. Somethin' that taps into the essence of a powerful Taken."

The pieces fall into place in my mind. My foreknowledge clicks into gear, and I realize what he's aiming for: Malfeasance.

Oh baby, I want one. You can only run around with a Ballyhoo for shits and giggles so long before you crave a real hand cannon.

I tilt my head, keeping my expression unreadable. "You're not exactly painting a clear picture here, Drifter. Why me?"

"C'mon." He says, leaning in conspiratorially. "I've been watchin' you. You're workin' somethin' ancient, somethin' different. Don't take a genius to figure out your magic ain't the Light. Am I right?"

I pause for a moment, considering my response. "You're not wrong."

He pushes off the crate, pacing in a slow circle around me. "Knew it. Knew you were sittin' on somethin' special. So here's the deal: I need your help to make this thing really sing. What d'you say?"

{Met 'The Drifter' 50 points

Rolling…

Benevolence - Bottomless Stomach - Elder Scrolls Online – The Vestige (50 points)

Roll Success. Current stockpile: 550 Points.

Purchase Bottomless Stomach?}

Bottomless Stomach

You want to go to fight a dragon but you cannot drink all the potions that would grant you the sweet, sweet buffs you need? Well, don't worry, with this Perk, any food or drink you ingest will not fill your stomach, assuming that they grant buffs of any kind. Try to not wolf down too much normal food.

Might be useful in the future should I acquire any potion crafting perks, and fairly cheap. Ironic too, considering the guy in front of me.

Yoink.

I pace a little, letting the Drifter's offer roll around in my head. It's tempting, but I'm not about to get tangled up in his schemes without ensuring I get something out of it.

"I don't have time to run around playing errand boy for you." I say, turning back to face him. "But if you're willing to gather the materials I'd need to make my own version of this cannon, I'll help you craft yours."

He straightens, clearly liking what he hears. "You're sayin' I bring you the pieces, you work your magic, and we both walk away with somethin' shiny?"

"Exactly."

Drifter claps his hands together, the sound echoing softly in the empty Hangar. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about! You got yourself a deal, Wizard Boy. I'll round up what you need, and when I do, we're gonna make somethin' real nasty, you and me."

I snort, turning toward my ship. "Best if I don't know most of the details. I don't need the Praxic Order hounding me."

"Fair enough." He says with a laugh, stepping back into the shadows. "See you soon, Wizard. Don't go missin' me too much."

The Platinum Starling descends smoothly toward the makeshift camp where Crow has been staying. From the cockpit, I immediately notice something's wrong. The cargo container Crow has been using as shelter is damaged, its metal sides scorched and warped. Faintly glowing knives are embedded in its edges, flames licking at the remnants of what can only be a Blade Barrage super.

My grip tightens on the controls. Crow doesn't have the ability to cast Blade Barrage, and he wouldn't destroy his own resting place. There's only one conclusion: a fight happened here… and a Hunter was involved.

The ship hovers just long enough for me to gear up. Spectre materializes beside me, her shell spinning with concern. "Crow isn't responding on comms."

"Keep trying." I order, my tone clipped. A flash of light later, I'm standing on solid ground, surveying the area.

The air reeks of scorched metal and burnt vegetation. I crouch, my eyes scanning for any signs of movement. Tracks. My instincts kick in, my senses narrowing like a hunter stalking prey. Crow's boots left faint impressions in the dirt, leading away from the cargo container. He's running, and from the erratic pattern of the prints, he's been dodging.

"Crow's alive, but he's in trouble." Spectre confirms as she intercepts a faint ping from his location.

I don't hesitate, following the trail at a brisk pace, my gear ready for whatever waits ahead. Crow's signal grows stronger, and so does the unmistakable sound of gunfire. A single crack echoes from the cliffs ahead, sharp and deliberate. Scout rifle.

I crest a ridge, my heart sinking as I spot Crow pinned down behind a jagged rock. He's not wearing his helmet, and his raven hair is easy to spot against the rugged terrain. Every time he tries to peek out, a bullet kicks up dirt dangerously close to his cover.

My gaze shifts to the source of the attack: a Hunter perched on a higher cliff, his silhouette barely visible against the twilight sky. He's good; steady aim, sharp instincts. The kind of Guardian who makes their living in the wilds. But he's made one fatal mistake: shooting at someone under my protection.

My fists clench, Pyro's heat stirring within me. Without a second thought, I blink forward, the world snapping into sharp focus as I chain the movement across the gap. My sudden appearance throws off the Hunter's aim. He swivels, the barrel of his rifle tracking me, but he's too slow.

The full force of my Pyro-enhanced fist slams into his face like a meteor strike. The impact shatters his shield and dents his helmet, sending him hurtling backward off the cliff with a strangled yell.

The Hunter recovers quickly, twisting midair to activate his double jump. He stabilizes his descent, landing a short distance away with a nimbleness only a Hunter could manage. His scout rifle swings back up, but I'm already one step ahead.

Between my arms, a preformed Nova Bomb spins, dark and pulsating, the embodiment of a black hole waiting to collapse. My voice is ice-cold as I address him. "That's my student you've been shooting at. Fuck off, or I'll make sure you remember me forever."

The Hunter freezes, his weapon still half-raised. He tilts his head, calculating his odds. He knows he's outmatched, his light not recovered enough to cast another super. Slowly, he lowers his rifle. The tension in his stance radiates frustration, but he doesn't press his luck. With a venomous glare toward Crow, he mutters something I don't bother trying to hear.

In a flash of light, he summons his sparrow. Its engine roars as he speeds away, disappearing into the horizon.

I wait until the sound fades before letting the Nova Bomb dissipate, the energy scattering into harmless wisps. Exhaling slowly, I release the tension coiled in my muscles. Turning my attention back to Crow, I blink down to his position, closing the distance in seconds. He's crouched low, one hand braced on his knee as he catches his breath.

"Crow." I say firmly, and his head snaps up. "Did he kill you?"

"No." He shakes his head after a beat, his voice steady despite the situation. Slowly, he stands, brushing dirt from his gloves. "I'm fine. Just… caught off guard."

I glance back toward the ridge and the container beyond it. "What happened here?"

Crow grimaces, running a hand through his raven hair. "He came out of nowhere. I think he recognized me from before."

"Did he say anything?" My voice is low, but there's an edge to it. "Why he attacked you?"

Crow hesitates, then his tone turns bitter. "The usual. 'Murderer,' 'bastard,' take your pick. I didn't get a chance to argue before he started throwing knives at me."

My fists clench at the thought. Crow doesn't deserve this, but the world isn't fair. Not to him.

"You need to keep your helmet on." I say, keeping my tone firm but not unkind. "If people can recognize you, they'll keep coming after you."

"I know." He replies quietly, his gaze dropping. His fingers twitch at his side, betraying the frustration he's trying to hide. "I just… what kind of monster must I have been to be hated like this?"

I sigh, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. "I think it's time I tell you."

He looks up, uncertainty etched into his expression, and Glint materializes beside him. "Wait a minute…"

I hold up a hand to silence Glint. "It's common wisdom that Guardians shouldn't look into who they were before. Normally, I'd agree with that. But Crow? You have a right to know. If you're going to survive, you need to understand why people like that Hunter keep coming after you."

Crow stares at me, his brow furrowing in apprehension. "You mean…"

"I mean the truth." My voice is steady, though a part of me aches for what this will cost him. "It's time you knew who you were before you became Crow."

CHAPTER 11 END

AN: It never sat right with me how long it took for Crow to learn about Uldren Sov. Glint means well in withholding the information, but Crow's case is special enough to warrant breaking from the established rules. I'm glad I finally got to write a Drifter scene, but he's currently bereft of any of the character growth he'd receive in later years, so It's probably for the best that Mavriel doesn't get pulled into Drifter's schemes any further than a bit of crafting assistance.

Sand Man is a fucking phenomenal perk, granting Mav immunity to fire, wind, and lower-case light based attacks. Most Solar attacks will struggle to damage him now, with the only surefire kill being a Celestial Nighthawk Golden Gun shot. Maybe a Blade Barrage if it all lands close to his body.

Failed Rolls

[Source - Level (Tier 5) - A Wild Last Boss Appeared! (100 points)] (Missing Prerequisite)

[Source - Ruby of Life - DC Occult (600 points)] (Insufficient Points)