bxttle-cry:
The Phantom’s engines died down to a humming whine as the dropship halted and hovered in midair, for its passengers to disembark. Three Sangheili leapt out of the side bay door, and approached the encampment with no caution, and no hesitation. They were tall, powerful-looking, warriors in their prime. Two seemed to be bulkier than their leader, and of a different phenotype; indeed, they were borne of Hesduros, and their armour was that of the Hesduron Zealots, chitinous and coloured deep maroon, with the unusual addition of pale blue accents. Their leader, meanwhile, was taller, and clad in the ornate armour of a Field Marshal — a veteran warrior also of the Zealot order.
Whoever they were, they clearly meant business.
The two Zealots carried their Plasma Repeaters in a not-quite-ready-for-battle position, and they stuck close to their leader. It was very much evident that they were his bodyguard; his personal vanguard; two of his most loyal lieutenants. Their faces were locked in scowls, dark eyes glinting with a hint of restrained malice, which would be unleashed the moment someone were to threaten the Field Marshal.
Khyl ’Voramai was the Field Marshal’s name; he was a Warlord, in charge of his own faction comprised of Sangheili, Unggoy, and Mgalekgolo, as well as a handful of humans, Jiralhanae, and Kig-Yar, known as the Tempestuous Blades. Among the Sangheili colonies, that name was gradually becoming known. The faction’s presence was an…. imposing one, to say the least. Wherever they went, they left their mark, and they knew damn well sure everyone knew it. He was also an expert swordsman — anyone who had come face-to-face with him and his twin Energy Swords were lucky if they were left alive. Very lucky. After all, he was not one for things such as mercy.
This situation would be no exception.
The three warriors reached the encampment and halted, the two Zealots fanning out one to either side of Khyl, attentive, their movements idle. The Warlord, in the meantime, stood with hands on hips, examining the landscape around him. And then he called out, his voice deep, growling, not quite threatening, but not welcoming, either.
“Sarin ’Vaseshai…. You summoned me, and I am here to talk!”
The dark and moon-lit camp seemed quiet at first- Maybe even abandoned. But as they slowly made their way to the heart of a clearing that seemed long-emptied away.... the glimmer of active camouflage shimmered away before them to reveal a limber Sangheili in a pitch-black harness. Sleek, faint purple accents and lightings dotted the stealth suit, like filigrees of blood on the elegantly streamlined equipment.
“...Let me preface this with the disclaimer that there are no fewer than eight people surrounding you, one of which has a beam rifle begging to turn someone’s head into a pendant if they try something. Let us not draw weapons that we don’t intend to use, yes?” His voice was not that of a child, but it was certainly close. It rang smooth, bright, lacking the harsh growl that most elders bore. Still, despite it’s youth, his tone was weighted and serious with the words he spoke.
Then, it shifted towards tired, bleak, and almost... Dryly humorous, in a manner befitting someone who had likely been away from a home base for months. “...If I can add, however? You were the one who requested to speak to us, Warlord.”
Sure enough, if they focused... Every so often, someone could possibly catch a bare glimmer of an active camo field, or a faint shift in the darkness. The field unit’s apparent leader seemed to be remarkably level-headed for his age, given the situation he seemed to be staring down. His blade’s hilt rested at his hip, firmly magnetized, and his harness seemed to hold additional storage, modified for... Something. A specialist?
Certainly, he had to be too young for that sort of designation.
But as he shifted to the side to gesture them away from the open, the side of his pauldron became visible- Upon it, a small insignia denoting him as holding notable engineering expertise. Was he older than he sounded, or was something else at play?
“...So what brings you into the company of these so-called cowards and liars who make liberal use of active camouflage and surprise to bring down their opposition?”
