25If you believe the stories, mankind's pride gave the rise to the darkspawn. Countless in number and toxic to all life, darkspawn search endlessly for an Archdemon. When they find one, darkspawn armies surge up from their corrupt barrows beneath the ground-and a Blight begins.
Grey wardens are the only warriors capable of destroying an Archdemon, and history always honors the one who sacrifices all to slay the beast.
In the fifth blight, the Warden was the Hero of Fereldan. A dwarven royal, second child of King Endrin Aeducan. Framed for a murder and ultimately cast out, the young noble met Duncan, a Grey Warden who saw the dwarf's potential as a warden recruit.
The youngest child of Fereldan's Powerful Teyrn Cousland. Betrayal saw the Cousland's ancestral castle burn, and the teyrn and his wife slain. The young noble escaped to travel southwards to warn her elder brother of the betrayal. By chance or fate, she met Duncan and the Exiled Dwarven Royal upon the Imperial Highway and mutually ventured southwards.
The allied Fereldan and Grey Warden forces met in Ostagar, where King Cailan's armies and a host of Wardens gathered, ready to destroy the darkspawn.
…
Lieutenant Commander Jameson Locke was clad in a second generation MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor and armed with a BR85HB Service Rifle which is a gas-operated, magazine-fed battle rifle. Optimized for firing three-round bursts, though it is capable of semi-automatic and fully automatic fire. He now stood face to face with a mistrustful Sangheili Major. Three Spartan-VIs stood behind him, clad in the same kind of armor with a customized exterior. They were like Locke, working for Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) Section Three.
"I do not trust you." The Sangheili major spat forward as his nudged his head towards another Sangheili by the monitor. The Sangheili distate for ONI is obvious, the relations between the two species has been turbulent at best. Especially after so soon after the Sangheili Civil War. "He may… but I do not."
"Noted." retorted in his usually militant manner. Not bothering in explaining himself to the Sangheili major who didn't have influence over the outcome of his mission. He was like his team, augmented like a Spartan-VI.
"My friend's trust isn't the issue today, Spartan Locke." said the Sangheili by the monitor which had the Sangheili in red back off with a faint snarl of disapproval. The Sangheili who spoke turned about with a more majestic and intimidating armor, obviously of a higher rank if not the highest. "It is my trust you must earn."
"Arbiter." Locke acknowledged to the former Supreme Commander of the Covenant whom was previously deemed a priority target by ONI to eliminate during the war. Locke knew because he wrote the report.
"You are a hunter, yes? A seeker of things." Arbiter spoke as he walked over to monitor displaying a planet.
"That's not the official job title. But it's close enough." Locke responded as The Arbiter turned around to face Locke.
"And now you hunt other Spartans?"
"I'm not so much hunting a Spartan, as I am hunting the Spartan." he spoke as he takes forth a handheld device displaying a holographic image of the one and only, Master Chief.
"You seek…" Arbiter began to murmur but Locke beat him to it. "One-One-Seven."
"I was not told the identity of your prey."
"That's why I'm sharing it with you now. We're talking about trust afterall." Locke retorted, hoping that his calculated leap of faith is enough to earn some trust. "May I ask you something? Your people used to call him "demon." Was that an insult or a compliment?"
"..An insult to be sure. But one with modicum of respect. He was indeed my enemy. But in time, I named him ally, even friend."
The Arbiter sighed as he looked away as he recalls the memories which made him the Arbiter and the Great Schism. "The events which forged this bond were… complicated."
Then there were some warning beeps along with a voice coming through some speakers. "Arbiter, we're nearing the target." Arbiter turned around to face his majors and articulately commanded. "Prepare for action."
Arbiter turned his head as he and Locke stood side by side by the phantom's door. "What do you call him, Spartan Locke?" Locke looked back at the Arbiter slightly after he made his inquiry. "I don't understand the question."
"One-one-seven, the Master Chief. He is not your friend. Is he your foe?" The Arbiter asked, sternly. Locke didn't have time to dance around in a cryptic struggle. "He's gone AWOL and the UNSC want him back. I'm going to bring home."
"I admire your sense of duty, Spartan. But if he has left the fold, then he has his reasons." The Arbiter voiced as his attention towards Locke as the door started to open. "I'm sure he does, Arbiter. I intend to find out what they are." Locke said while disengaging the safety on the battle rifle as the Arbiter's grasp on a curved hilt of an energy sword before it flares up with a hiss, all in the midst of a city ruin.
…
Several months earlier
The wilderness was dense and the terrain was harsh but it was barely a breeze for the stranger whom obscured himself with a thick brown shroud from head to toe. The damp air was sure to exhaust any man but not him. There were also hostiles about, hideous creatures of various sizes with crude, curved and often crooked weaponry from the medieval ages.
He heard shouts of men battling in the distance, the time of subtlety had come to pass. Dashing faster than a horse as he grasped his MA5D Assault Rifle, the gas-operated and air-cooled fully automatic bullup firearm which is magazine-fed with a thirty two round detachable box magazine. The armor instantly recognized his movement and realeased it from the magnetic lock upon his back. He verified the presence of a two dozen hostiles and even less friendlies which reminds him of medieval knights, clad in armor with sword and shield.
His tactical analyzes determine the most effective approach, he was no egghead but he doubted that the hostile's armor would stand a chance against 7,62x51mm GMJ-AP ammunition yet he could always defeat them in close quarters combat with ease. However the assumed friendlies wouldn't have the same probability of survival, he made his decision as he leapt over the ridge and into the fray and his hood fell off. Revealing the golden visor on the helmet of his MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor, a technologically advanced combat exoskeleton system designed to vastly improve the strength, speed, agility, reflexes and durability of a Spartan super soldier. That's what he was, a Spartan.
The battle was joined the moment he made his landfall on one of the hideous creatures as he burried a quick burst into the chest while his sheer weight crushed the organs as he shifted his aim towards the alpha, these creatures worked like a packs and like any pack. Without a leader, they crumble. In this case it was a more bulky creature with more armor along with an intimidating helmet with bull horns. None helped him against the Spartan who quickly shot him down.
As predicted the hideous creatures turned their attentions towards the behomoth but without a leader and disorientated made them an easy prey. Then his motion sensor detected one of the creatures trying to sneak up on him but he swirled around and used the momentum of the spin for a bonecracking kick to the ribcage which shattered and punctured a lung, causing a lot of internal bleeding.
He ducks underneath the swing of a sword as he drew the multi-purpose combat knife, a twenty centimeter long blade made of high cabron steel with anti-flash, non-reflective titanium carbide coating. The edge are coated for corrosion resistance. He ripped the guts out of the creature before he swept his leg underneath him, bringing the creature to the ground where as the Spartan stood up and finished off the last hostile with a throw of his multi-purpose combat knife through the throat.
He made a quick perimeter check for more hostiles while the survivors, a handful of the scouting party were seemingly shaken by fright of the colossal stranger whom just saved their lives.
"Area is secured." The Spartan spoke pragmatically with an attentive tone to the man whom rose up, obviously the commander of sorts by the way he carried himself despite the near death experience. He wandered off the last kill and recovered the knife.
"My thanks, ser. You have the Couslands' gratitude offor saving the life of me and my men from these Darkspawn." He spoke, his hair was messy but his structure screams of a noble heritage yet that of a warrior. "I'm Fergus Cousland of Highever and you are?"
"Far away from home." The stranger replied promptly as he returned the multi-purpose combat knife to its sheath. Fergus was taken aback by the answer. "Surely you have a name?"
"Yes." Master Chief answered as he replaced the magazine box in his MA5D before turning around to walk away. Which earned him a more baffled ire from the noble. "Where are you going?" Fergus shouted after him. "North." Was his only reply. Fergus looked around at his men, many were dead. Others were severely wounded, they would never get back to Ostagar alive.
"My men will die without your help." He declared while the Spartan kept walking until he finally stopped. Turning around as to face the heir of Highever. "Please." Fergus plead which the stranger whom only gave a nod. "Patch up your wounded, it's getting dark and we'll need shelter."
Author's Note: Hello! I hope you enjoyed reading this "pilot" crossover chapter of sorts where Master Chief has gone AWOL (as teased in the Master Chief Collection for Xbox One) and gone to Thedas! This story takes place after Halo 4 which means that Cortana is gone and the Master Chief is all on his own.
Also, as for the Wardens. I couldn't decide on one alone so I picked two instead. In fact, I'll go as far as letting you decide the personalities of the Wardens and what choices they made in respective origin story. Even if no interest is shown, I may pick the story up and see where it goes.
Lastly, I'd like to ask you, the reader to review what you've just read. I love feedback and I believe it'll be a crucial part in keeping the story afloat.
