I was there, at the beginning. In the dark reign of Rahool. I walked the Four Worlds, a solo player in a universe of raids and strikes. I battled Gate Lords and Archon Priests, Devil Walkers and the guardian of the Shrine of Crota. I stood at the Gates of the Loot Cave, and as the Hive charged forth, screaming their worship of death, I met them with bullets and the power of Arc! As my guns ran dry, others stepped up to the line. A million deaths or more, and it might have been enough, as long last, the golden gleam of an Exotic Engram finally caught my eye. Hands shaking, I returned to the Tower and approached the Cryptarch, holding out the armour engram...
A FREAKING RARE?! I DON'T EVEN PLAY A WARLOCK, YOU BLUE-SKINNED THIEVING FU-
Ahem. Yes. Moving on.
I knew I was going to enjoy writing Cayde, and that he was going to show up in story no matter what. It's one of the reasons I chose Hunter over the other two classes, because at least here, it's a little more justified when he decides to stick his horn in.
A FREAKING RARE?! I DON'T EVEN PLAY A WARLOCK, YOU BLUE-SKINNED THIEVING FU-
Ahem. Yes. Moving on.
I knew I was going to enjoy writing Cayde, and that he was going to show up in story no matter what. It's one of the reasons I chose Hunter over the other two classes, because at least here, it's a little more justified when he decides to stick his horn in.