#koris

“Shi-” Hawthorne was right about to raise up her gun and take a shot at the closest Fallen before one of the big ones spoke. “Cease! No bad blood. Aide.” The humans more or less drop their jaws, Hawthorne pulling hers up the quickest, training her rifle at one of the biggest Captains she has seen in a long long time. The Fallen was easily 9 feet tall, towering over many of the other Fallen around it, the arching horns on its helm and the open cloak indicated it might be an Archon, one of the leaders of a House. Its jaw and mandibles clicked and jittered softly before speaking again, slowly, in the human tongue.

“Keldar, that is my name. Archon of House Wolves. Yes,, House of Skolas. But, not our Kell. Not my Kell. Koris! She is my Kell. And her,, what is word,, friend, the,, Metal Human, is damaged. His,, Gift, from the Great Machine, Gone. Taken. You will aide us.” Keldar thortles softly, the humans words sound so incredibly foreign to his tongue and maw, he feels compelled to clear his throat and shake his head after speaking, as if to try and get rid of a bad tasting ether.

Hawthorne frowns, doing her best to keep her surprise behind her mask before looking over to an almost as large Fallen, the one called Koris, carrying in its arms a Guardian. “What in the name of, what did you people do to him? Are those extra arms grafted to his body??” Hawthorne growls as the rifle comes back up, anger at the defilement of a guardian, even if she wants nothing to do with the City and the Guardians, seeing its body abused in such a manner..

“His choice. 12 seasons, he be with us. Learn our tongue, our customs. Earned his,, ach, [Ge-hir joh-ak].” Keldar shifts back into Eliksni briefly, the word does not exist in the crude and complex human tongue. Hawthorne blinks and looks back to the Guardian, the rifle coming back down, the other men in the Militia looking uneasy and confused at all that is going on. “He,, wanted these? He earned these?”

“Yes yes,, saved Koris, killed rival Baron in [Lovos Bo Gen], honor fight, Wolves custom. Her second. He is now Wolf. But, also [Din-ha] what is your word, garr-di-ahn?” Keldar growls softly, crouching down slightly, as Koris moved closer with the limp body of Veroksis in her four arms. Hawthorne can see that the arms are not a hackjob, they look well made, but just like the many other fallen, only 3 fingers.

“And,, you want our help? I have never heard of Fallen asking humans for help.” Hawthorne has slung the rifle over her back, beckoning the other Militia to lower their weapons.

“We have,, contract. Veroksis speaks with,, this Zah-vah-lah, a Baron in your City. We no attack Humans, they no attack Wolves. We work with Zah-vah-lah, kill Cabal, Vex, upstart Houses. We get Ether from City. Not,, perfect contract, but is better than,, [Den-di].” Keldar throttles softly, looking over to Koris as she sets down the Exo onto the ground, along with his Ghost before taking a half step back, Koris’ eyes glaring across the divide at Hawthorne.

“I am no Guardian, and I will not pretend to know all about them. But,, we have some other Guardians in a camp, they might be able to help him. I cannot guarantee if-” Hawthorne starts before a low rumble comes from Koris, which gets many of the Fallen in the pack tense up and pull out their weapons, readying them but not aiming, yet.

Hawthorne swallows gently, her mouth and throat suddenly dry, her instincts trying to take over her actions but she pushes it aside quickly “We will save him.” She says with some finality, which seems to get some tension out of this female Kell. Koris crouches down by the Exo, and almost tenderly runs a large hand over the Exo’s head, a soft moment. Then she is back on her feet and moving away, barking an order to the pack who quickly scramble up onto their feet and after their leader.

Hawthorne stands there, statue like, while almost 100 Fallen warriors move away and blend into the thick forest, leaving the 8 or so humans alone with the Exo body.