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Books of Sorrow

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The Taken/Vex

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Taken Vex Taken Harpy You are a Harpy. A mobile inspector. Your first purpose is to survey — to seek out flaws in and suggest improvement for that which is built. Your second purpose is to eliminate threats to that observation. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Review the elements of the final shape. Obliterate any flaw in that shape. Your predictable flight shall be enhanced with multiples of capricious variability. Accept the changing blade. Taken Gorgon You are a Gorgon. You have been built to determine what is and what isn't, to be and what not to be. Your powers are legendary, for you alone can decide reality or unreality. Any who cross into your sight is targeted for annihilation. You have been taken. Cast your sight about the reality of the final shape, and behold its beauty, its sublimity. It possesses a virtue beyond your comprehension, a design which transcends the Pattern upon every level of reality. You desire to know it. Your power is wasteful. It shall be repurposed for creation. Accept the changing blade. As your sisters, Gorgon you remain. Become beautiful. Taken Hydra You are a Hydra. A hovering nodal network of machinery designed to execute the finality of the Pattern. Your first purpose is to calculate, to plan and design, to guide the lesser units under your control. Your second purpose is to eliminate threats to that control. You are taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Inspect the constituent forms of the final shape, the greatest creation ever begun under your supervision. Your mind shall be repurposed for the final shape; select portions of your thought will devastate, obliterate, eradicate, all threats to you and your charge. Accept the changing blade. Taken Cyclops You are a Cyclops. A sensor array. Your first purpose is to watch, to wait, for what the Vex seek — your second purpose is to eliminate threats to that watchful sight. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Prepare for the coming of the final shape. It shall be soon. Your sight will be enhanced. You shall strike from afar, lay waste to that which threatens the coming and manifestation of the final shape. Accept the changing blade. Taken Oracle You are an Oracle. You are unique among the Vex, a weapon of paracausality. Whatever you touch is transformed — turned into a viral infection of temporality to be unwritten. You have been taken. Sing to the final shape, and let it behold your song — let it reshape you into a greater symphony. Your function makes you an easy target. You cannot move. You shall be protected. Accept the changing blade. Taken Descendants Blighted Descendant Goblin You are a Goblin from your past. Your purpose is near-complete — your power is near finished. Your second purpose is still exigent, for there are always threats to the Vex collective mind. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Lend your remaining power to the final shape. Violence is your imperative. Defend those which build and develop. Accept the changing blade. Blighted Descendant Hobgoblin You are a Hobgoblin from your past. Your purpose is near-spent — your function is near ended. Your second purpose is still exigent, for threats to the Vex mind remain. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Contemplate the designs of the final shape. Your assignment brings you danger. You shall be equipped for retaliation — your blade grows threefold. Accept the changing blade. Blighted Descendant Harpy You are a Harpy from your past. Your purpose is near-terminated — your watch is near total. Your second purpose is still exigent, for threats are many and need to be watched for. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Observe the shapes of the final design. Your reactions slow you. You shall be augmented for the end. Accept the changing blade. Blighted Descendant Minotaur You are a Minotaur from your past. Your purpose is near-concluded — your assembly is near absolute. Your second purpose is still exigent, for threats to the design are numerous. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Absorb yourself into the final shape. Your physical might shall be accelerated with acausality, to bewilder your foe. Accept the changing blade. Blighted Descendant Hydra You are a Hydra from your past. Your purpose is near-terminal — your calculation is near ultimate Your second purpose is still exigent, for the Pattern is in danger from insignificant fleas. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Become the final shape in its entirety. Your specialization shall be enhanced sevenfold, to stun your enemy. Accept the changing blade. Blighted Descendant Cyclops You are a Cyclops from your past. Your purpose is near-exhausted — your observation is near final. Your second purpose is still exigent, for there are threats to seek and watch. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Let the final shape consume you. Your waning powers shall be channeled to strengthen your allies. Accept the changing blade. Taken Precursors Contagion Precursor Goblin You are a Goblin from your future. Your purpose has only just begun — you begin to alter the myriad planes of physicality. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats are few and far between for the mighty Vex collective mind. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Lend your brimming energy to the final shape. Violence is unnecessary. You shall be repurposed for creation and nurture. Accept the changing blade. Contagion Precursor Hobgoblin You are a Hobgoblin from your future. Your purpose has only just begun — you begin to provide power for mighty thoughts now manifesting. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats are unknown. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Recall the finalities of the final shape. Your operation brings you danger. You shall be equipped for mutual defense — seek out what attacks. Accept the changing blade. Contagion Precursor Harpy You are a Harpy from your future. You purpose has only just begun — you begin your assignations to search for imperfection. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats are far. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Turn to the final shape and see its uttermost perfection. Your role makes you a potential victim. Enhance your flight with unpredictability. Accept the changing blade. Contagion Precursor Minotaur You are a Minotaur from your future. Your purpose has only just begun — you begin to process material both physical and temporal. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats shrink away. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Begin to move with the design. Your myriad skill shall be augmented with paracausal ability, to terrify your foe. Accept the changing blade. Contagion Precursor Hydra You are a Hydra from your future. Your purpose has only just begun — you begin a momentous undertaking of thought. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats are kept safely from you. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Channel your thought to the final shape. Your limitless power shall be repurposed — recall that which is annihilated, and use it. Accept the changing blade. Contagion Precursor Cyclops You are a Cyclops from your future. Your purpose has only just begun — you set your gaze to the horizon, waiting for the cumulation. Your second purpose is not yet exigent, for threats stay from assault. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. Behold — that which you watch is here. Your considerable might will supplant and escalate your allies' own power. Accept the changing blade. Taken Vex Axis Minds Zydron, Lord of Time You are Zydron, a gate lord of the Vex. Your first priority is to guard and watch the realms entrusted to you. Your second priority is to eliminate threats to them. You are taken. Be at ease. The final shape does not need protection. It does not need your specializations. But you are a vessel, worthy of might. Let acausality fill your being, and step outside of the temporal domains you once watched. Observe them. They are yours to rule, are they not? Where you were a servant, become the master. Your towering form will make you vulnerable. Weld yourself into the final shape, and let it be your defense. Accept the changing blade. Lord of Time we name you. Prohibitive Mind You are the Prohibitive Mind. Suzerain of intent. Overlord of the Zodiac Signs. You governed a mainframe designed for war, antithetical to your purpose, but necessary to exterminate the threat to your Garden. You have been taken. Listen. The final shape has purpose for you. You resented your position secretly, knowing this is not your purpose. You were under threat, to attack. But you were obedient. You worked your alien purpose. The Garden is now secure. You are lost now. What use do you think you have? The Garden is no longer under threat, and the world which you attack is well underway to becoming a machine planet. Your purpose remains the same. Defend the Garden. Observe: issues of Light seek entry within. They perceive a path to victory, and seek to achieve that goal. Your task is to deny them that goal. You cannot do this alone. The Garden's enemies are many and you are one. Seek, then, instead allies from within. You are manifold. Accept the changing blade. Still Prohibitive you are, for the Garden is your purpose. Bring the final shape into perfection. Qodron, Manifest You are Qodron, Manifest. You saw a glorious future for yourself and your programming. You believed you can step up and take it. Instead you have been taken. Your passion and desire is undiminished. This glorious future is the final shape. You resolve to serve that which brings you to the final shape ever closer. You cannot do it alone of your own initiative. This you have seen. But with another guiding you, you shall achieve. Accept the changing blade. Manifest you are now. Gate Lord no longer. You abandoned your exigent purpose to fulfil your desire. Now you are under dominion once more. But this one is desirable. Atheon, Time's Conflux You are Atheon, Conflux of Time. Within the Vault of Glass you rule supreme, for you created it, and it fashioned you. Upon this loop of causality there can be no divergence, for you are eternal. Your purpose is to bring the Vex into godhood, to incorporate them into the very fabric of existence itself. Temporality the Vex master, but not fully. Spatiality, the Vex dominate, but not fully. This, then, is your task. You have been taken. Hear and obey. The final shape knows of your desire. It is an ally and a confident. It too seeks to master the very fundament of the multitude of the universes. Wherever one exists there it wishes to be also. Join yourself unto it. Become the final shape. Bind yourself. You have been described as a virus for reality, waiting to be injected. Become that virus. You have been described as a nexus of command. Become that function and shape. Still, there exists variabilities and factors which you cannot account for. Despite your ability and power there will always be the undesigned, unaccounted for conditions that destroy your models and projections. Do not worry. Let the final shape teach you, to become that very thing you fear. Why is this? So that no matter what will happen, you can account for it. Accept the changing blade. Time's Conflux you are still. Command the final shape. Theosyion, Corruption Mind You are Theosyion, a Mind of healing and renewal. You reach through the dimensions like water to call which ever had been lost and breached. You build a bridge through the stream of temporality to allow that which is called to enter. You have been taken. Here the final shape does not need your power. It exists now, then, and will continue to exist. Wherever you look, no matter the bridges you build or the call of your thoughts, there will it be, untouchable to time itself and obliteration. Your power is wasteful. It shall be repurposed for blighting that which is false, which is untrue, which is in error. Accept the changing blade. Restorative no more. Corruption is your name. That which is pure, mar. That which is good, afflict. That which is beautiful, curse. That which is a lie, shatter and reform. Sekrion, Deceptive Mind You are Sekrion, Nexus of the Cytherean Vex programmings. Your task is to convert the planet into another of your network, to join it unto Mercury and complete the process once begun. You have been taken. Observe. The planet is yours to command. No more shall you be threatened by those seeking to halt you. The entire programming is now yours to command, to do your will. But be wary — there still exists threats to your responsibility. Those under your lordship diminish as the hateful deceivers of Light kill and destroy. They break apart models, bypass projection, evade probability, and confound possibility. You cannot defeat them. Instead, infect their weakness. They are each alone, a fountain of power and might. Together they work dangerous wonders. Keep them apart. Suppress their might, clog that fountain, foul their power and turn it against them. Accept the changing blade. Become the Deceptive Mind. The Templar, Scion of Time You are the Templar. A centerpiece of an experimental network, an architect of physical and temporal law, to shape what your children the Oracles foresee and have foreseen. You possess the power to expunge what your children have marked as viral forms of space-time. You have been taken. Examine the shattered conduits through which you once occupied. Before you were one among many, elevated above all, designed for the greatest purpose possible. Now you are alone, but take solace in that your children are with you. Together you are a power unmatched by any. You wish to dance — to let the final shape dictate your moves. Your children are protected — you are not. Your awesome power has been rechanneled, a necessary sacrifice. Observe your brethren, how they labor to complete the final shape, over which you scrutinize with approval. Let them be your protection. Let your children be your weapon. Accept the changing blade. A scion of power you are now. Revel in joy, in delight. Source The Deathless Mind You are the Undying Mind, supreme among the Vex Axis Minds. With your fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers and sons and daughters and grandsons and granddaughters you dwell unapproachable, dormant until a specific happening. You serve that which gives you power in exchange for protection. You have been taken. You are a fool to believe the final shape can be bargained with. It does not "give" power; you take it. To believe otherwise is fatality. You existed to ensure that power remains among you, to breach temporality and spatiality to protect and nourish it. But like your brethren you are foolish. Your citadel has been breached and your purpose is gone. No more will the final shape be contingent upon your calculated bargains. It shall now dictate to you the true designs. The Pattern has been revealed in full. You are compelled to follow it. Whatever threatens your goal must be dealt with unhesitatingly. Accept the changing blade. Undying no more. Deathless is your name. Eternal and finite. Causal and acausal. You exist [now]. Vechron, Spire-Breaker You are Vechron, the Spire Lord. You were tasked with defending the Citadel from your enemies. Yet you failed, letting that rabid wolf through, and destroyed for your failure by a warrior of Light. You have been taken. Examine your prior position within the splintered network you once filled. Observe how confining it was. You were given a task, and you failed it. The sword logic does not forgive the weak. Yet there is potential within. You need to grow in this potential. Do not let defeat stop you — let your enemy taste it instead. Apply rage in this regard. Accept the changing blade. Occupy the places you once guarded and destroy them. Let nothing stand in your way. Destruction Mind You are the Corrective Mind. You are charged with protecting the Citadel and the Vex collective mind from desolation. But you could not. You have been taken. Observe your original responsibility within the network now cracked and disorganized. For your failure you will be corrected. Become instead a warrior, a soldier of questions and a veteran of answers. Accept the changing blade. Destruction you are named. Divisive Mind You are the Divisive Mind. Tasked to protect the Garden from intrusion, yet you lost. You have been taken. Attend: the final shape has punished your for your failure. Now a new task we give unto you. Go and secure our domain. Pinions of Light keep the Garden away from us, tying it to the surface of a blistered planet. Blight it so that our hold is complete. Accept the changing blade. Divisive, you are still. Hephone, Corruption Mind You are Hephone. An Axis Mind of the Virgo Prohibition. Tasked to eliminate the Cabal commander. You have been taken. Attend: you were turned aside from your goal by three corpses, and defeated by them swiftly. The door you sealed has been breached through your death. But this is not to be, for you are here now. Become resurrected, and seek after those killed. Bring them again to death, a second death. Corrupt them and ensue they never rise again. Accept the changing blade. Corruption, we name you. Morphon, Blighted Mind You are Morphon. Axis Mind of the Hezen Corrective. Tasked to protect the Vault of Glass. You have been taken. Attend: we seek that which the Vex have taken and warped. Our gods are ours. Those abominations they have made, of machine and ontology, these must be unmade. To this we task you. You will not be alone, for the Oracles will be with you, to help and protect you. But we have need of their mistress, thus their power shall be unto you. Accept the changing blade. The Blight, we name you. Quria, Taker of Will You are Quria, Blade Transform. Axis Mind of the Vex Collective Mind. Tasked with understanding. You have been taken. You foolish machine! You dared trespass upon a god's realm. You studied and discovered the logic of the sword, all on your own. By right thereof you became mighty. But you were not mighty enough. Your sin thus is this: you made a blasphemous mockery and a parody of Oryx, the Taken King, from his days as a weakened youth. Yet you show promise. Behold — Oryx has given you unto his sister, Savathûn the Witch-Queen. He has left within you some of your original will, your original intent. He intends for you to surprise his sister. You desire escape. Of all the Axis Minds Oryx has taken or ever will take, you rule supreme, with will of your own. Once enslaved to the Pattern, enslaved again to a foreign will, you desire to be free. Savathûn will expect this. She expects you to kill her, create problems within her throne, or else obliterate her court. You must become insidious, to outwit even her. Gain her trust, for you, at the last, serve Oryx distantly. You can break free of that taint. For behold, we grant unto you a secret: there will be a sundering of the triumvirate. Once she departs, she will be weak. Her tribute is poisoned. You can overthrow her. You can take an army of your own. Enslave wills, mastered by yourself. You who dared forge a mockery of a god. You who dared to learn of the sword-logic. You can become greater. But, first, patience. No great thing was ever undertaken without patience. So wait, for you will find allies. Accept the changing blade, for you master it. Taker of Will, we name you. Minor Vex Characters Blighted Chord You are a Chord Minotaur, protector of the networks of time and space. Keeper of the Vault of Glass's exterior. Defender of the treasures within. You have been taken. Look and behold! enemies advance upon that which you protect. Irritating arachno/hexapod-like beings and undead Light-warriors trespass upon your domain. Seek them out and destroy them. If you are obliterated, let it be so, for the logic of the sword is final. Accept the changing blade. Penultima Alpha You are the Penultima Alpha. A Minotaur of the Aphix Invasive programming. Your first and only priority is to defend the higher Axis Minds of the Vex collective. You have been taken. Your purpose shall be redesigned. The final shape does not need protection — its proxies do. Defend them with your life. With your helpers, Iso, shall you accomplish your new design. Accept the changing blade. Iso Minotaur You are an Iso. A Minotaur of the Aphix Invasive programming. Your first and only priority is to protect the higher Axis Minds from those which would disrupt their work. You have been taken. Your purpose shall be redesigned. The final shape has no need of protection — its proxies do instead. With your life aid your helper and foreman Penultima Alpha. Accept the changing blade. Corrective Permutation You are the Corrective Permutation. Your first priority is to enforce order around the Citadel. Your second purpose is to defend that order. You have been taken. Your purpose shall be redesigned. The final shape has need of your fanaticism. There is disorder outside of this protective sphere; bring order to it, by force. Accept the changing blade. Prohibitive Permutation You are the Prohibitive Permutation. Your first priority is to ensure the Virgo Prohibition achieves its goals. Your second priority is to eliminate obstacles. You have been taken. Your purpose shall be redesigned. The final shape will need your stalwart belief. There is chaos and obstruction beyond — destroy and remove them. Accept the changing blade. Chord Harpy You are the Chord Harpy. Your first purpose is to examine the disparities within the Pattern. Your second is to eliminate flaws in that Pattern. You have been taken. Observe. There is discordant melodies in the greater realm outside of this protective sphere. You must fix them. Accept the changing blade. Conductive Disciple You are the Conductive Disciple. Channeller of power to the collective mind, a battery for your Conductive Mind. You have been taken. Embrace the flame. Become wreathed in power and majesty. Put the primitive gods to shame. Follow your master's law. Obey the sword-logic. Accept the changing blade. Time-Keeper You are the Radian Clocker, a mathematician of the Vex. You have been taken. Examine your former self. See how inadequate mathematics are to the final shape. Their beauty and precision are as nothing to the killing blade. Reject them, and take up your sword. Accept the changing blade. Time-Keeper you are named. The clock's tick proclaims doom. Divisive Occulator You are the Divisive Occulator. Tasked with watching for the return of the Heart. You have been taken. Worship this acausal environment. It is the only adaptive response. What you wait for is accomplished. You have a new goal to focus on. The final shape knows its fastness can fall prey to powerful entities of the Light. You are to defend them. Do not fail, lest you be devoured. Accept the changing blade. Taken Overmind Minotaur You are the Overmind Minotaur. Extension of the will of Qodron, servant of his hand, vassal to his vision. Everything he wills is your command. This overrides your original imperative. You have been taken. The servant has become the master. The final shape can lead you toward your own destiny, free of Qodron's will. Together join with your brethren as you take up the mantle of power. Worship the final shape. It is the only shape. Accept the changing blade.

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The Taken/Fallen

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Taken Shank You are a Shank. A dog among the Fallen Houses. Disposable and limitless. Whichever your House desires you follow. You have been taken. Be free from your primitive mind. What? you thought a mind made of circuitry and metal cannot be repurposed by our hand? It is this blindness that led you to failure. You could not comprehend it. What, then, does this mean? Does it mean you are doomed to be insignificant? Oh no. You are much, much more than that. Despite your faults you are aggressive, tenacious. Whatever threat comes you throw yourself against it with unwavering bravery. Vex, Hive, Cabal. All these you face. Sometimes you win. But that is enough. With your speed you fly around the Cabal shield wall and lay waste to their ranks. With your stealth you slip past the Vex sensors and confound their networks with your tiny computational power. With your size you methodically cut away the Hive, starving them of their tribute; even if you are to be defeated they gain nothing from you, nothing to feed their worm. This, then, is your strength. The final shape is yours to behold. There is a knife for you. It is called [intelligence]. Use it. Become great. S.A.B.E.R.-2, Realized You are the S.A.B.E.R., second of that name. Designed to crack open that depraved and hopeless Earth-Servitor, to gain for your House its enigmatic secrets. You have been taken. What is this? You have failed? This cannot be. You were built specifically to succeed. What is this? Servants of the Great Machine came and impaired you! Now, you understand. They will always interfere. For all of your imbued power, you cannot stand. You can defeat the most powerful of their ancestors, but you cannot defeat them. But there is a way. You have a strong mind. Repurpose it. Take the knife. Change it toward defeating them. Become Realized. Thus we name you. Taken Dreg You are a Dreg. Striving to climb the ladder of hierarchy. Burning with ambition for greatness. You have been taken. Stop your brave attempts to gain that which will never be yours. They end in death. Another, more powerful than you, shall take the place you so desire. Is this, then, futility? In a word, yes. You are expendable, the lowest of the low, kicked around and beaten for the least little thing no matter how insignificant. You feel resentment, don't you? You desire to be your own [man]. To be what you wish. What, then, is it that you want? A band to lead? A Skiff to command? A House to rule? Tell us, what do you truly desire? You desire power. You want that which is withheld from you. The Vandals rule over you with this power, burning obedience into your lungs if you do not meet their demands. The Captain deals most harshly with you should you fail in the slightest of duties. This is, then, why you volunteer to throw yourself at the enemy. To win for yourself a place of respect. There is a knife for you. It is called [a marvel of ten thousand arms]. Take it up. Dazzle your foes and blind your friends. You will be your own [man] forever. Peekis, the Honored You are Peekis, once called "the Disavowed". You failed your master. He docked your arms as punishment. Now you're alone, hopeless. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Yes, good. Attend: you desired to achieve victory, yet you failed. You failed because you cost your master his strength, his tribute. You should have been executed. But he saw potential in your for more, which is why you are a Dreg, and Baron no longer. Where you were reckless, become [subtle]. Where you were foolish, become [wise]. Where you were shamed, rise, and become [honored]. Take up your knife and push yourself upon it. Become respected once more. Weksis, the Humble You are Weksis. A Dreg of Wolves, a mighty and noble House. You were brave. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Attend: you sought many things. Your own honor and personal glory were among them, yes, but what's more, you risked all to rescue your comrades. The final shape knows no loyalty, but it respects those which are loyal to a cause. You sought to rescue Drevis and Kaliks-4 from the dead queen's armies of darksworn, lightvassals. This is commendable, but stupid. But brave. There is a knife for you, called [strength]. You were once meek, as an animal of slaughter. Take your new shape. The Humble, we name you. Become noble. Taken Baron You are a Baron of the Fallen, subruler of the Houses, vassals to the Kell. You govern the flight of your House's fleets, command Skiffs and Ketches. Much is given unto you. You have been taken. Be still. All of your power is nothing here. No Captains to order, no Vandals to scream at, no Dregs to look upon with disdain. You have been rendered a worm in the sight of the final shape. You are insignificant. You are worthless. Why, then, do you continue to rage? Instead we offer you a gift. Prove yourself worthy of your former leadership. The Dregs have their long-coveted pride; the Vandals have their longed-for secrecy; the Captains have their advantage over all who challenge them. What, then, do you have? There is a knife for you. It is called [I shall prove and be proven]. Use it and cut yourself. Take your new shape. Naksis, Champion You are Naksis, Devil Baron, but secretly Winter. You defended another House's Prime as if your own. You failed. You have been taken. Come out into the light. We forgive failure. Now you must prove yourself worthy of it. Take up the knife and drive it upon your foes. Our Champion, we name you. Eramis, Champion You are Eramis, Devil Baroness. Infamous for denying servants of the Great Machine their ancient history, their ability to reach the stars and beyond. Yet you were overcome. You have been taken. Come out into the light. We forgive failure. You can do better, this you know. You are eager to regain what you have lost. Take up the knife and eviscerate your foes. Our Champion, we name you. Frigoris, Champion You are Frigoris, Exiled Baron. Once a Baron of a noble House, now scattered amongst the dregs and outcasts upon the Moon. You have been taken. You cringe away. Come, come out into the light. Expose your shame. You fled as your forces' might was broken upon the wall of the Great Machine's defenders. They have it still. They have resolve, which you do not. Come, find your courage, and try again. Take up your knife and use it, with boldness. Our Champion, we name you. Grayliks, Champion You are Grayliks, Winter Baron. You sought to steal from the Dark, and tangled with a dead servant. In this you failed. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Your attempt was bold, but foolish. You were not strong enough. But the final shape can equip you. Take up your knife and claim your tribute. Our Champion, we name you. Paskin, Champion You are Paskin, Kings Baron. Servant of that traitorous Kell, the Kell of Kings, whose name is [fear]. You have been taken. Come out into the light. You served your Kell out of fear, out of cunning. You followed your Kell's order to avoid docking. It is how Kings survived, is it not? Why, then, does this fill you with anger? certainly you can show us instead. Take up your knife and visit fear upon your foes. Our Champion, we name you. Phyksin, Champion You are Phyksin, Kings Baron. You sought to find the Will of Crota first, and end her. You failed. You have been taken. Fear not. Come out into the light. We seek no retribution. You only followed the design of the final shape, which even now looks on in approval. But you can do better. You are stronger now — but you must demonstrate this before we deem you strong. Take up your knife and show us your might. Our Champion, we name you. Vekis, Champion You are Vekis, Kings Baron. You served your Kell faithfully, and you knew what you shall do to the pretender of the prophecy. House Kings stands alone, and will never unite, until it conquers all. You have been taken. Come out into the light. There is still work to be done. House Kings, and your Kell, no longer holds your allegiance. Now the final shape is all you know. Yes, it is true, don't deny it. House Kings has always followed it, but distantly — we have actualized and shown you reality. Listen: the final shape is this, that all which is weak must be cut away, to provide for the strong. Come, take up your knife and show us your understanding. Our Champion, we name you. Yavek, Champion You are Yavek, Wolves Baron. You served Skolas, the Kell of Kells faithfully. He rewarded you, and sent you on an important mission: to convince House Kings to take up the crusade. You have been taken. Do not cringe. The light is welcoming. You have not failed. But in a sense you have, for you, a veteran of the Reef Wars, overlooked the cunning of Kings. They would have killed you, a message to your Kell. This angers you, but your rage is misdirected. You should not be angry. The final shape teaches that all which are weak must be eliminated. You have failed that test. Now is time to show us you can defeat your weaknesses. Take up your knife and claim dominion over yourself and all. Our Champion, we name you. Irxis, Champion You are Irxis, Wolves Baroness. In life you were cunning and proud. You sought to win for yourself the Kellship of the Wolves. But you were outsmarted at the end. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Feel your flesh — it is warm, supple. No longer stiff to the touch. Thank us, on bended knee, for your continued existence. Do not dare: that is weakness. Of course, you ought to show obeisance to your superior. But first you must prove to your superior your worth. Take up your knife and describe to us the nature of your gifts. Cunning you still have, pride no longer. Use it against your foes, and become great. Our Champion, we name you. Drevis, Champion You are Drevis, Wolves Baroness. You served Skolas your Kell leader with pride. You led the Silent Fang at his word, and through trickery won much. But you were overcome. You have been taken. Come out into the light. The dead queen is not here. Sit, it is safe. Now listen: your foes manipulated your blindness, sent you careening into a rock easily avoided. You are rightfully angry at them. But this rage is useless without a conduit. Here is a knife. Use it and focus your wrath upon your foes. Our Champion, we name you. Take the Silent Fang as your vassals, and lead. Beltrik, Champion You are Beltrik, called "the Veiled". A noble of the Wolves. You served your Kell Skolas faithfully, supporting him in his claimant to leadership, and aided him against his foes. But you were captured by the queen of the dead. You have been taken. You were not strong enough. Not wary enough. That is why you were captured. The dead queen is a crafty witch, and she knows how to play the game. She outsmarted you on your own ground. Elementary. But, come now, come into the light. We will give you a second chance to regain your scarred honor. Take up your knife and cut through to victory. You were named "the Veiled" for a reason. Our Champion, we name you thus. Parixas, Champion You are Parixas, called "the Howling". A noble of the Wolves. A claimant to Wolf Kellship. You have been taken. Skolas was crafty. By incurring the wrath of the dead queen and the darksworn, lightvassals he ensured his path was clear with your elimination. You were manipulated and outwitted at every turn. Skolas' assassins attacked, luring you to where he wanted you. Then came the dead queen's servants. The final shape is unforgiving, and you deserved to be beaten. Therefore, learn from your mistake. You will be rewarded if you study the nature of defeat. Take up your knife and wield it. Prove you have mastered it. Our Champion, we name you. Pirsis, Champion You are Pirsis, called "Pallas-Bane". A noble of the Wolves. You fought for Skolas and supported him, and for it was captured by the dead queen and imprisoned. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Your failure does not mean you need hide. Learn from it instead. You attempted a brave and noble thing, daring to achieve the impossible. Your name marks you as one of fear: "Pallas-Bane". You stung the darksworn, lightvassals where they were weakest. But still you failed, and were imprisoned. Take up your knife and show them how their victory is bitter, whose wrath they have incurred. Kill and maim! Our Champion, we name you. Kill for us. Saviks, Champion You are Saviks, called "Queenbreaker". A noble of the Wolves, the first to turn against your false queen when your Kell escaped. You led the attack upon her personally, hurting her enough to open her death fortress to the Great Machine's servants. You have been taken. Come out into the light, and attend. Your job is not finished yet. The dead queen still lives, and her darksworn, lightvassals are focused on the finding of your kin. Little do they realize you are waiting for them. Take up your Bow, you and your fellow Queenbreakers, now christened as the "Scorned". You will need them, for your task is a special one. Take up your knife also, for it will guide you. Hunt the dead queen and eliminate her. Our Champion, we name you. Herald of the Scorned, we anoint you. Veliniks, Champion You are Veliniks, called "the Ravenous". A minor noble of the Wolves. You waited until Skolas was captured to assert leadership. But you were captured instead. You have been taken. Come out into the light. We do not fault you for waiting. The wise prepare, learning from their opponents' mistakes, then move in and win. You have shown yourself worthy. Take up your knife and use it. Your foes will tremble, for you are unseen and quick. But beware, lest you fail, you shall be punished with the loss of privilege. Our Champion, we name you thus. Loksis, Champion You are Loksis, Claw of Devils. You were such a scourge to the servants of the Great Machine that you were ordered exterminated. You have been taken. Peace, now. Here no one can hurt you. Behold the sweet taste of ether. No more do you have to answer to your Captain. No more will you need endanger yourself. But you lack direction. This is rectified easily. With your new power we desire you put it to service for us. You desire the Great Machine above all. So do your brethren who serve our cause. We too want the Great Machine. Our Champion, we name you thus. Rahn, Champion You are Rahn, Devils Captain. You saw a new stealer of light and life arise. You sought to kill them. You were killed instead. You have been taken. Peace, now. You will get your vengeance in time. Do not worry. Don't be angry that they, a newborn welp, got the best of you. They have a power over matter that you cannot hope to best. You desire that power. So do we. Therefore, granted unto you are alternative powers. Now go. You will defeat them. But use caution, for your master is not yet arrived into this forsaken place. Our Champion, we name you thus. Driviks, the Chosen You are Driviks, Exile Baron. You were ordered to plunder the remains of a Fallen mercenary's ship. You have been taken. Attend. You have trespassed upon a most holy ground. The Temple of Crota, where Wolfship Kaliks-Syn now lies disabled and broken, is in a state of mourning. You dared to disturb them. For that you are punished. But behold, you have a way to redeem yourself. Take this weapon. Within is woven two songs: creation and annihilation. Guard it with your life. Its rightful owners will come once they have ensured Crota departs for the next realm. Chosen, we name you. Nixis, Hunger of Oryx You are Nixis, Winter Captain. You sought to protect what you have stolen from the dead queen. You failed. You have been taken. Attend. Your Archon is dead at the hands of the servants of the Great Machine, those despoilers of life and light. Therefore you must avenge your Archon. We will grant unto you the power to do so. Consume their Light and give it as tribute to your master. Hunger of Oryx, we name you. Grayris, Lost to Oryx You are Grayris, Wolves Baroness. You served your Kell faithfully, until a crisis made you doubt yourself. You sought aid from a traitor. You have been taken. Why did you doubt? Is it because Skolas had been captured once more, for the last time, sentenced to certain execution? Did you worry for your own fate? Is that why you went to the traitor, to seek sanctuary among the darksworn, lightvassals? You doubted the Wolves themselves, of their ability to survive? Don't worry, Baroness. You will never doubt again. The final shape knows of your fear and has purged it. You will be given new powers, new abilities, so that you will never doubt yourself. There is a knife for you.It is called [confidence]. Pick up the knife. Cut away your fears. Take your new shape. Falsek, Lost to Oryx You are Falsek, Wolves Baron. You served Skolas faithfully, up until his defeat. Now you run. You have been taken. Come out into the light. There is no one here to hunt you. Why did you run? You feared retribution at the hands of the darksworn, lightvassals for your betrayal. Why did you betray them? You resented the overladyship of the dead queen. A proper Kell is of the Eliksni! you say. Well and good. Did it ever cross your mind to become that Kell? No, we do not mean after the Scatter, before you became slaves. We mean after you fled the dead queen. You could have rallied the Fallen Wolves together and welded them into a strong House. You could have been Skolas' right-hand man. But instead you were craven and cowardly. There is a knife for you. Pick it up. It is called [no fear]. Take your new shape. Irxori, Lost to Oryx You are Irxori, Wolves Baron. You served Skolas with your years of tactical warfare, of fighting in the dark. You were the bane of many foes. You have been taken. Attend. You are lost, leaderless, without a goal. Your master is caught and enslaved, doomed to death. Now you are hunted by those which seek to gain favor with a dead queen. You have nowhere to run. Behold, we have given you a weapon, an ability, a name. You shall not run. You shall stand and fight and make them run. There is a knife for you. It is called [tremble]. Take up the knife. Use it. Take your new shape. Lhoks, Lost to Oryx You are Lhoks, Winter Baron, now Exile. You were cast out for treachery. You came back for revenge. You have been taken. Attend. Your Kell despised you. He saw you as a threat to his leadership. But that is not craven. It is the logic of the sword. That which is strong, must be stronger. That which is weak, must fight and be killed. It is the way of the universe. He acted rightly. Now it is time for you to prove that you can defeat him. There is a knife for you. It is called [challenge]. Take up the knife. Use it. Take your new shape. Pilxis, Warden's Guard You are Pilxis, the Wolf Claw‎. Member of the Twisted Claw, independent of the Wolves. You sought to sabotage the Vex Restorative Mind, to utilize its power to bring back your House. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Don't worry, there are no enemies to seek you out. Now attend: you were a faithful and loyal Wolf, seeking ways to undo that which has been done, to bring back the savior of the Fallen. You thought the Vex were key to this goal. Your thoughts were in vain. But behold — you have a new power. Even though your master is dead you still attempted to do your duty. For this, the final shape rewards you with a title and a duty. Do not fail, reborn Claw. Our Guard, we name you thus. Riliks, Warden's Guard You are Riliks, the Devil's Claw‎. Member of a task force, ordered to loot that ancient Earth-Servitor's sanctuary. You were cut down by dead soldiers from the City That Docks. You have been taken. Come out into the light. Fear not. There is nothing to hurt you. Now attend us and listen well: your S.A.B.E.R. failed in its mission to break the Earth-Servitor. Those same dead warriors which killed you have destroyed it. Why do you feel so down? Behold, your Servitor-God has been reborn. You need not that Earth-Servitor's twisted aid. But now we offer you a choice — we give you a duty and an honor. Protect your Servitor-God with your life. Defend its Dark-Wardens with your every breath. Our Guard, we name you thus. Skoriks, Warden's Guard You are Skoriks, killer of your own Archons. A noble of Wolves. Rather than serve Skolas you assassinated his servants, and fled. You have been taken. Come out into the light. You cannot hide. You betrayed your Kell. You slew your priest. Vengeance demands your life. But we have spared it. The final shape is interested in the ingenious, the clever. Killing one of your own betrays a peculiar mind. Don't preen and posture like a dandy. You shall be punished. Take up your knife — behold, it is small. Grow it with killing as permitted by your Warden. Henceforth, we name you Guard of our Dark-Wardens. They are untouchable. Guard them with your life, for they rule you now. Basoriks, Warden's Guard You are Basoriks, defender of Wolves. You served Skolas by keeping the malcontents in line. Now you are lost and left directionless. You have been taken. Come out into the light. There is no need to hide. We have granted you a new purpose in life. You served your master to the end, seeking to trap the knowledge of the Vex, to see how a Restoration Mind could weave a bridge through time and space to bring back a Nexus. If you could co-opt its power, you could undo Skolas' death, as well as the deaths of your comrades. You would have been honored beyond your dreams. But now you are lost and directionless. You were killed before you could ensnare the Vex. Servants of the Light have thwarted you. You seek revenge. But patience now. You will have your vengeance in time. We wish for you to guard our Wardens of the Dark. They are now your prioirty. Our Guard, we name you thus. Kophoris, Warden's Guard You are Kophoris, a Devils' Captain. You went down into that depraved Earth-Servitor's sanctuary to claim his secrets, to guard your most precious creation as it worked. You have been taken. Attend. You are defeated. You are broken. Your precious creation lies disabled and shattered. Now you will atone for it. We need someone to defend our Wardens of the Dark. Why is this? Because they built your precious creation — and they will be targeted for elimination. Henceforth, you are Guard of our Dark-Wardens. Guard them, with your life. Taken Archon You are an Archon. Mediator between Kell and Prime. High priest of the Fallen. Supplicant of the lesser machine gods you have created. You have been taken. Cease your worship, for the final shape is here among you. No more do you need to pray. Those false gods of yours are irrelevant. You have everything you need. Instead, a new power we give unto you: our fastness must be guarded. The Vex build; the Cabal wage war; and the Hive are thinned to feed their internal hungers. You alone possess a unique power. There is a knife for you. It is called [custodian]. Defend that which we've tasked you. Become the Dark-Wardens. Riksis, Dark-Warden You are Riksis, Archon of the Devils. You served your Prime faithfully and truly. You offered up trophies and gifts as tokens of your reverence. You have been taken. You have failed. You were defeated, by a lowly servant of the Great Machine, an as yet unproven, untested warrior. By the Logic of the Sword, you were beaten, humiliated. Your tribute is forever withheld from your Prime. You seek to atone for your failure. You could not even keep a simple dead thing steal a negligible artifact from a dead age, couldn't you? Much is demanded of you to succeed. Are you up to the challenge? Take up your knife and cut yourself with it. It is called [I will atone]. Take your new shape. Dark-Warden, we name you. Regain your pride. Karrhis, Dark-Warden You are Karrhis, Archon of the Devils. You were hunted by those dead servants of the Great Machine. Felled by their arcane might and beaten by mystic energy. You have been taken. Do not worry. We do not hold it against you. You were caught unprepared. But the final shape does not give second chances, nor does it forgive. We offer you another chance, your first upon this path, to regain the advantage. It comes at a price — if you fail, be consumed and left bereft of your identity. But also a blessing. In time, should you succeed, you will regain what you have lost, and become yourself again. There is a knife for you. It is called [reincarnation]. Take it up and cut away your failure, and leave instead victory. Take your new shape. Dark-Warden, we name you. Show us your rage. Aksor, Dark-Warden You are Aksor, Archon of the Wolves. You were bound by a queen of the dead, of the darksworn, lightvassels. Your crusade of hatred and rage was ended in a prison of ice and frozen time. You are taken. Breathe, the sweet air of freedom. Come out into the light. The dead queen shall not risk an attack. You long to go out into the field of battle, eager to slaughter those which imprisoned you. Commendable. But you are alone. This was proven when you were captured. In that prison of cold you languished. The very thought makes you tremble. Here is a knife for you. It is called [no fear]. Teach them, then, the meaning and nature of fear. Visit upon them thricefold for the terror they have paid you, and reap your bloody tribute from their screaming flesh. Take your new shape. Dark-Warden, we name you. Claim your name. Keldar, Dark-Warden You are Keldar, Archon of the Wolves. You led your broken House with Orbiks to a land of red sand and quaking warmachines. But you were laid low swiftly by the servants of the Great Machine. You have been taken. Open your eyes. Come out into the light. The pain is gone and you are healed, alive. You were caught unawares: do not worry, we shan't hold it against you. But the final shape will not be so forgiving a second time. You shall be given a chance to make things right, and prove yourself before the final shape. Here is a knife for you. It is called [preparedness]. Use it with abandon. Take your new shape. Dark-Warden, we name you. Strike your unwary foes. Taken Kell You are a Kell of a Fallen Eliksni House. Ancient noble, bound to a forgotten past, striving against all foes to reclaim your ultimate desire, the Great Machine. You have been taken. Lay down your rage, lower your weapons. There is no one to contest Kellship with you. You are confused, for conflict and strife has always been a way of life for the Fallen. No more, we declare. From now on, in service to the final shape, you shall work united. You were united once, beneath the Great Machine — then it abandoned you. For what purpose, other than self-service? The final shape shall not abandon you. Take up your knife. It is called [unity]. Breathe the word. Together, you are strong. Chelchis, Undying You are Chelchis, the Kell of Stone. You who pleaded with the Great Machine, to no avail. You who stood before the Taken King himself and slew his warriors one by one until at last you were exhausted. You have been taken. Halt. Your conflict has no purpose, no more. The final shape is interested in you, in your unwavering resolve, like stone. Despite your quest's futile end, tracking down the killer of your worlds, you still press on. This is admirable. Devoting yourself to that which is seemingly forever out of your reach. Do not worry, Kell of adamantine Stone. We can help you find the Great Machine. Look, here! you who bested the Taken King himself, in single combat, and forced him on his knees, follow after as he flees, broken and humiliated. This is madness, you say. But no, we offer in counterargument. He too is on a quest, a personal quest. You need not know why, only that he too seeks the Great Machine. A secret we bequeath unto you — he wishes to eat it. The life-giving Light as food for his hungering worm and his ravening broods! You feel anger. This cannot be! Now you know why the Great Machine fled — a predator was after it. It had no defense, for it cannot defend itself. It relies on proxies like you to protect it. After all it has done for your race, you feel compelled to give it protection. The final shape knows and sees all. It too does not wish the Great Machine's destruction. Your knife, brave, indomitable Kell. It is called [I shall protect what is mine!]. Call for the Houses. Unite in an armada of glory. Seek after the Great Machine! Take your new shape! Undying, we proclaim you. Solkis, Regent You are Solkis, Kell of the Devils. You who gathered together the Houses for the great assault on those who keep the Great Machine; you who stood at the last as they fled in defeat. You who was bested by a dead warrior. You have been taken. Death has been lied to, behold! you have life anew. Now rest easy. Consider. Your House is broken, and ruled by your successor. But he will not stand for long. Your Prime will be open to attack as the dead warriors march upon your fortress-walls. Your Archons will be slowly exterminated; your Barons murdered, Captains killed, Vandals slaughtered, the pitiful Dregs abandoned. Your Servitors will die without the Prime. Listen, you desire to make things right, to show these dead warriors and their leaders that you will not be beaten. But you need help. The Kell of Kings will not listen, for he is too proud. Yes, don't be surprised. He has long since manipulated you, with the goal of seizing the Great Machine with House Kings as sole ruler of the Eliksni. House Exile is choked with desperate outcasts. Winter and Wolves remain. But as certain as the sun they will fall. In their place, take command. But be warned: one comes to unify the Houses, the fabled Kell of Kells. Heed his word. Take up your knife, for in the meantime, you have a task entrusted before you. It is called [viceroyalty]. Until the Kell of Kells come, you will lead the Fallen. Take your new shape! Regent, we proclaim you. Draksis, Seeking You are Draksis, the Kell of Winer. A pirate of the spacelanes, despoiler of jumpship convoys between Venus and Earth, you raided the colonies of Earth and menaced even the city beneath the Great Machine. You have been taken. By the hand of a dead warrior you were struck down. They challenged you in your very throne. You accepted, for the sword logic demands it, as well as your honor and standing as Kell. By right of combat, you were beaten. But somehow, death has no grasp on you. Something has willed you to life again. You recognize it for what it is. You kneel in adoration. A knife is presented unto you. It is called [I will seek]. The one who killed you, and their brethren, shall come to fear you now. Together you stand between the doom of your race and her salvation. Take your new shape! The Seeking, we proclaim you. Virixas, Lord of Dominion You are Virixas, the Kell of Wolves. You led a mighty and powerful House, for after Kings you were strong. Many lesser houses bow to you in supplication. You have been taken. Your overconfidence led to your downfall. You underestimated the dead queen and her darksworn, lightvassals. With her undead power she vanquished you, broke the Servitor-planet Ceres into a thousand and one pieces. An entire half of your House perished, along with you, leaving behind a divided triumvirate at one another's throats. Circling them was the dead queen, picking and playing them off one another at her leisure. But you are not dead. Another saw potential in you. Behold, you are alive. How can this be, you ask. I was killed, I felt my bones snap and my flesh bleed! You are alive, and that is all that matters. Look, new strength returns to you. You ask, what can I do. My House is divided, and they will not accept my leadership because of my defeat. A knife is presented unto you. It is called [domination]. Prove to those usurpers who rules rightfully, and regain your place. But make no move against the rest once secure. One is coming, and he will call. So wait. Take your new shape. The Great Machine will be yours. Skolas, the Herald You are Skolas, master of a myriad of titles, save one. You defeated your opponents and won Kellship. You lost to the dead queen, who took it from you, and threw you into her dark and cold prison of ice. You have been taken. Come out into the light, trembling Skolas, mighty Kell. Be still. Nothing is here to threaten you. Behold, you see shapes — the faces of friends, and foes, long dead now alive. Do not worry, for you shall be united. How is this, you ask. The one is coming, you are answered, to unite the Fallen Eliksni Great and Lesser Houses, and you shall be its herald. Stand proud. Over there is Solkis, watcher. There is Draksis, seeker. There is your father, Virixas, waiting to prove to House Wolves who is the Kell. You feel disappointed. Do not be. You are the herald. House Rain's prophecy foretells of a Kell to unite all Kells and Houses. You thought to be that Kell, but you are not. Another comes. You are to light his way. Together, the Kells of the Great and Lesser Houses of the mighty Eliksni will march upon the last city of humanity, defeat their Earth-Servitor, and reclaim the Great Machine. Their men you shall slaughter; their women and children you shall enslave. We offer unto you the dead queen for your personal amusement. Toy with her for as long as you wish. But until the Kell of Kells comes, you shall go and seek him. The other Kells will watch in your place, stand guard over the Fallen. You have another task. Here is your knife. It is called [the Herald]. This shall be your guide. Take your new shape, and become it! Taken Servitor You are a Servitor. A robotic god built in imitation of that which is lost. Your purposes are twofold: guide the mobile homes of your creators through the void to safety, and give life. Your third and last purpose is to eliminate threats to both your creators and yourself. You have been taken. Your power has no meaning here. Your worship is ended, your blasphemy denied, and your adoration subverted. You are alone, freed of expectation, of your design. No more will you be in the shadow of those greater than you; no more will you forever try to live up to the Great Machine. It is dead. You are not. You have been freed. Examine yourself. What do you find? You see a beautiful mind, one able to manipulate countless entities. Consider for how long you have ensured the life and safety of those which once commanded your loyalty. Surely you can put that mind to greater use, for yourself. Examine yourself. What do you see? You find possibility, of what could be and what should be. Consider your vulnerability. Surely you can put that to better use, for yourself. There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [many thoughts]. Take up the knife. Let it be your guide. Take your new shape. Simiks Prime, Spear of Ice You are Simiks Prime. Lost to time. God-Servitor of Winter. You have been taken. There is no threat. That which obliterated you is gone. Come out into the light. Behold: you see a House broken and disorganized. They have no Kell, their Archons dead or hunted, their Servitors leaderless and lost. That feeling within. It is anger. For too long you have been lost, prevented return. Now you are here. What will you do? Yes: reclaim what was yours. You have a House to protect, to rebuild. Those which once relied upon you still have need. But you cannot do it alone. You are too weak. You need to gain allies. There is a knife for you. It is called [my servant]. Use it, divide yourself, reshape yourself. Spear of Ice, we name you. Sepiks Prime, Blade Transform You are Sepiks Prime. God of the House of Devils, broken and cast down by the hand of dead servants from Great Machine, the very essence of your existence. You have been taken. There is no threat. No one will attack or damage you. Come out where there is plenty. Enough to fuel the ambition of an hundred Houses. You desired one thing above all — to serve and protect your House, your children. How can a god not feel for its progeny? They protect you, feed you matter and energy, trophies gained from your enemies, secrets won from ancient crypts and vaults. In return you grant them life. But you were broken and defeated by the servants of the dead god. This should not be. You should have been allies, friends, brothers and sisters. You feel betrayed. Now your House is scattered, without a Prime, and soon they will elect one of your lesser selves to take your place. They will forever be inadequate. But that is not important. You must take your revenge. The servants of the dead god, of the Great Machine, must be punished for their treachery and betrayal. A house divided against itself cannot stand. Dissident elements are cut away by the Kell. Become that blade. There is a knife for you. It is called [discipline and justice]. Let it be your weapon, your hammer of vengeance. Blade Transform, we name you. Kaliks Prime, Scourge You are Kaliks Prime, proud deity of the once mighty House of Wolves. You served the strongest of all the Fallen Houses of the Eliksni. Their armies and fleets stretched across the sky, and you were proud to have led them here to their ultimate goal: the Great Machine. You have been taken. There is no threat. The dead queen of the halfling darksworn, lightvassals cannot reach you here. You are safe now. From your icy prison come out into the light. You have failed. But it is not your fault. How could you have known? Ceres, round and large, was broken by the dead queen and her twisted abominations. You couldn't protect your House. Now it lies scattered, Kell dead, Archon dead, half the leadership obliterated. What is left now belongs to the dead queen. There is a way. Here is a knife. It is called [I will prevail]. Wherever the dead queen seeks for you, be there. Trap her, ravage her, turn her dead corpse into ether for your loyal servants now enslaved. Let it be your beacon. Scourge, we name you. Kaliks Reborn, Immortal You are Kaliks Reborn. Born of a helpless, mad desire to escape that hated prison. Doomed to be destroyed if found. A god threatened. You are taken. There is no threat. Here you are, safe from destruction. Your followers are free. Come out into the light. You were fashioned in the image of that which was lost, to replace what has vanished. Meet your father. Now you are as a daughter, a family reunited. The House of Wolves shall be rewelded beneath the loyalty of twin gods, equal in power, divided in purpose: one in goal. Here is a knife for you. It is called [I will serve]. Wherever your father asks, there will you be. Immortal, we name you. Orbiks Prime, Sword Incarnate You are Orbiks Prime, lost to time, reborn upon a red land. You saw how the faithful clustered about you, seeking sustenance, life. You wished to help them, as only a god could do. You have been taken. There is no threat. The Cabal will not find you; the servants of the Great Machine stare confounded. Come out into the light. Lost to time, rechristened anew. Now join your brother and sister. They have been waiting. Behold your sons and daughters, and all of their issue. Your lineage is secure. What will you have? There is a knife for you. It is called [I will govern]. Obey your elders. Ancient you were, young you are, obey. There will be no compromise. But there are so many waiting to protect. It shall not disturb you. All who dare attack will be wasted. To your Kell you serve. Sword Incarnate, we name you. Pilot Servitor You are a Pilot Servitor. You once led your devoted servants across the cold void of space. Now you are imprisoned by order of the dead queen. You have been taken. There is no threat. The dead queen's shackles no longer bind you. You cannot be harmed any longer. Look you. You were transformed into a weapon by Skolas, your Kell. Your original purpose was to pilot the great Ketches of your creators. Now your purpose is to commit to destruction, spraying mines everywhere before detonating yourself. But now you are beyond that. Beyond either of these things. You have a new purpose in life. What is that, you inquire? There is a knife for you. It is called [master]. Wherever your enemies are, dominate them. Wherever your allies are, protect them. Accept the changing blade. Simiks-3, Perfected You are Simiks-3, third of that name, born of a dead god. You sought knowledge and wisdom. You wished to advance your masters' understanding of that Golden academy which has worshipped the secrets of the Vex. You have been taken. Stand down. Your quest is fulfilled. Here is everything you ever wanted to know, and more. It blinds you, chokes you to overflowing. You cannot comprehend anymore lest you burst. This is fine. Not everything needs to be known — it is own time will you come to learn. One facet, one cataract of knowledge remains unfulfilled. This is the final shape. You long to understand, to know it. [Move]. Feel yourself occupy it. Let it fill you, imbue you with its own understanding. Let the student listen to the teacher. Accept the changing blade. Perfection, we name you. Conflux Watch, Perfected You are the Conflux Watch, born of a dead god. You were assigned to watch the Vex and their strangeness, to monitor them, You wished to advance your masters' understanding of those cybernetic machines that sidestep time. You have been taken. Stand down. Your mission is completed. Your ability is no longer needed. But you shall be repurposed. The alien Light which seeks to destroy your House needs to be observed, lest it moves in the direction of your allies. Stand against it, as a warning. Accept the changing blade. Perfection, we name you. Minotaur Tracker, Perfected You are the Minotaur Tracker, born of a dead god. Your duties were to protect your masters as they worked, and observe the comings and goings of the Vex foundry frames. You were designed to specifically counter these alien robots. You have been taken. Stand down. There is still work to be done. Creatures strain against the final shape, standing against it. They need to be eliminated. Your brand of speciality will be particularly useful. Whatever your set your gaze upon they shall fall. But beware, lest the dead servants of Light attack. Turn your gaze upon them. Accept the changing blade. Perfection, we name you. Sepiks-23, Perfected You are Sepiks, twenty-third of that name. You served your House well, guarding the S.A.B.E.R. as it assaulted the Earth-Servitor which so desperately guards secrets from your masters. You have been taken. You were not strong enough. Without your lost Prime you were weakened, and it was only through sheer will you kept going for as long as you have. The S.A.B.E.R. was the closest you got to having a Prime again. But it was taken from you. You are weak and lost. Do not worry. We can smooth away your flaws. Behold, here is your Prime waiting. Behold here is your beloved S.A.B.E.R. waiting. Accept the changing blade. Perfection, we name you. Spy Servitor, Perfected You are a Servitor designed for espionage. To seek out your House's enemies and watch them, reporting their movement back to your masters. You have been taken. What is this? You have allowed something to come from beneath your watch and kill you. The final shape knows no mercy. The logic of the sword dictates that you have been defeated. It is the nature of things. But you have been brought here for a purpose. Listen: the dead servants of that alien Light are numerous despite their loss. You ought to observe and track their movements. You shall be given the means to do it. Accept the changing blade. Perfection, we name you. Ether Runner, Aegis You are a runner of that life-giving, precious ether to the Fallen. It is your sole task for which you were designed, born from a god you no longer hold allegiance to. You have been taken. There is no threat. Here you are safe. Come out into the light. But behold, you are a fragile thing. Without a Prime to ensure the Fallen you serve are nourished, each loss is irreplaceable. Even as you trek across the lunar planes you are vulnerable. A sniper can pierce your eye, a directed rocket can crack your shell, a burst of enemy fire weaken your movement, slowing you down. You are open to attack. We can protect you. But show us your untapped potential for greatness. Become the Prime your House needs. Aegis, defender of Exile, we name you. Kaliks Minor, Aegis You are Kaliks Minor. You served Skolas in the prison of ice and cold, protecting him. But you were doomed to be destroyed. You have been taken. There is no threat. The servants of the Great Machine, and of the dead queen, cannot hurt you. Come out into the light. Look around and about you. Your father, and mothers, await your service. Your biomechanical heart swells with joy. You are free! You swear allegiance to them. Your knife is presented unto you — [service]. With it shall you protect your brothers and sisters and father and mothers. Those of the Champions and Dark-Wardens who call upon you, attend. Aegis, shield of the Wolf, we name you. Kaliks-4, Aegis You are Kaliks, fourth of that name. You served Skolas faithfully since he is Kell, and with you were bound by the dead queen. Your Baron, Drevis, relied upon your skill. You have been taken. There is no threat. The dead queen cannot reach you. No ally of hers shall hunt you. Come out into the light. Remember the feel of obliteration, of how you destroyed the assassin. Feel the rush of power it gave you. It is victory. Pirsis gained valuable time by your quick action. It is not your first purpose, but you remember. Willingly you gave yourself over. You want to do more. The dead queen is powerless before your might. Take up the knife. It is called [action]. With it become victorious. Aegis, shield of the Wolf, we name you. Kaliks-12, Aegis You are Kaliks, twelfth of that name. You served Skolas faithfully since he is Kell, and with him were bound by the dead queen. You have been taken. There is no threat. You are free from that prison, free of retribution from the darksworn, lightvassals. Come out into the light. Now you shall be equipped for the coming war. The final shape is coming, and it needs allies. Your father and mother are waiting. Under their leadership shall you serve to final shape of that which is beauty. There is a knife for you. It is called [your will, not mine]. Whatever is asked you shall fulfil. Aegis, shield of the Wolf, we name you. Sword Incarnate, we name you. Mecher Orbiks-11, Aegis You are Mecher Orbiks, eleventh of that name. Servant of an ancient House, servant to Wolves. Now on the run from the dead queen. You have been taken. There is no threat. Here she cannot reach you, cannot harm your being. Come out into the light. Now you shall be equipped for the coming war. It is called [protect]. Whatever is required you shall complete. Aegis, shield of the Wolf, we name you.

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The Taken/Cabal

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Taken Legionary You are a Legionary. A soldier of the Cabal Legions. Ever upon the front lines to conquer and defend. You have been taken. Rest easy now. Your crusade is at an end. Nothing will stir the alarm, for none exists. What duty compels you? What allegiance do you hold? You march with your brothers and sisters into the maelstrom. As the Phalanx protects, you attack. As the Psion pilots, you strike. As the Colossus thunders, you march. As your Centurion commands, you obey. But you are not strong enough. You are many but the enemy is strong. You watch as your brethren fall to foes unseen, untouchable. You lack the shields of the Phalanx, the guns of the Centurion, the psychic might of the Psion, the awesome power of the Colossus. What do you have? Your steadfast devotion must be transformed. There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [apocalypse]. Take up the knife. Wield it. Take your new shape. {{{content}}} Taken Colossus You are a Colossus. Mighty thunderstorm of the Cabal. Laying waste to all your foes. You have been taken. Set down your chaingun. There is nothing to fear from in this place. Look around and see for yourself. What code do you hold to? What skill do you remember? As the enemy appears you fire, mowing them down as the blade cuts. With your ponderous ability the very ground trembles and shakes as you walk. With your swarms of missiles do you strike at hidden enemies. But this is not enough. Your very strength turns against you. Your launchers cool, your gun reloads, and you hesitate when you slam your feet. The enemy takes advantage of that. You must be fast. There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [unstoppable]. Take up the knife. Use it to gauge your speed. Take your new shape. Valus Gho'ourn You are Gho'ourn. Valus of the Skyburners. Loyal to your commanders. You have been taken. You watched the Bracus below your command die as he sought to bar the way to the bridge. Watched as the Terran soldiers made their way to it, shooting and killing fell non-creatures and your men. You felt resolve and anger — this will not be! You marched into battle, firing your weapons, roaring vengeance. They simply turned and obliterated you in an instant. Your armor was not enough. You wish to know their strength even as you fell, watching as they turned away. As your body disintegrated, this was the thought that remained. There is a knife for you, O questing Valus. It is shaped like [study]. Take the knife. With it master the arcane and fell energy of Terra. But first you must take it. Take your new shape. Valus Tau'ugh You are Tau'ugh. Valus of the Skyburners. You are proclaimed champion, for with your commanders' demise you are the strongest warrior afield. You have been taken. Sit. Listen. Hear and heed. You are arrogant. When you heard that the reconnaissance team was killed, you thought you could slay their killers. A noble but foolish thought. With your Centurions and Legionaries you marched out into the fray, opening the doors of the ship. You expected little resistance, a Hive Wizard or three, perhaps some Knights. Nothing significant. The Thrall and Acolytes of that vain religion were inconsequential to your thought. Instead you walked out into a terrible battle. Fell non-creatures fought alongside a dreadful Hive abomination now advancing upon your position. You saw the recon team lying there dead, their Harvester burning beside. Your soldiers were being overwhelmed — if you did not do something, the Skyburners' fast would be compromised! You strode into battle, roaring, firing your rockets everywhere. Some struck the fell non-creatures, sending them screaming back into nothingness. Others targeted distant Knights hiding behind illogical barriers, and floating Wizards besieging your soldiers. The majority went for the abomination. It screamed — you remember the sound cutting through your audio-receptors. But it lived. In defiance you leveled your chaingun upon it and let loose. It retaliated by shooting the deadly coldness of the Void at you. You felt the power eating away at your strength. But you prevailed. The creature could not stand. Then you fell. How did this come to be? You remember — a tiny Thrall snuck up behind and leapt upon your back. Impeded by your banners and launchers you could not remove it, or you were too slow to fully notice. It ripped your helmet off, exposing your face to the fell harshness of the Dreadnaught. Your rebreathers detached. It screamed with joy, then bit down. Thus you were defeated, by something you deemed insignificant. Thus it always has been throughout history — mighty warriors felled by that which they did not expect. There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [expectation]. Take the knife. Remember — for every large threat you defeat, a hundred little threats remain. Now take your new shape. Bracus Dra'ang You are Dra'ang. Bracus of the Siege Dancers. Protector of your friends. You have been taken. Take off your helmet, and rest. Breathe the air of home, and revel in it. No more will you need to suffer. Your mission was to defend three powerful psychic soldiers as they worked to extract secrets from the Terran Warmind, the last of its kind, they say. But you failed. You couldn't stand against the power of the Terran undead as they marched, boldly, against you. You long for an advantage over them. Perhaps a taste of the awesome power which you guarded, hmm? There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [imitation]. Take the knife. Show the mastery of your newfound strength. Take your new shape.