No name 4195631180 DestinyUnlockDefinition

Spirit of Renewal 2644022231 DestinySandboxPerkDefinition

Improves Duskfield grenades.

VI. Propaganda 2419786602 DestinyLoreDefinition

//RECORDED TRANSMITION VIA: HDN-SPLICE-332410205// //SIGNAL ORIGIN: UNKNOWN// //SIGNAL TERMINUS: WIDEBAND_OPEN_CHANNEL// //FROM THE AUSPICE OF CALUS, DEPOSED CABAL EMPEROR// My loyal subjects. The Guardians believe they have defeated your glorious emperor. How foolish. They look at the bodies left in their wake and assume victory, at the blood and oil that runs from the battlefields they have ravaged and assume the territory conquered. They are like the old Cabal, sweeping over planets with no mind to the subjects that resist them. But I am not so cruel. The worlds I brought into our fold were showered in riches, given everything for their service as Cabal… as you are now. As you will be each time you serve me. Some of you were born here. You are young, blessed by my hand with a life of celebrated battle and luxurious feasting. You fight with the voracity of veteran gladiators. You fight for your home—our home. I swell to call you my children. Others came to me from my traitorous daughter, who calls herself empress even while I still draw breath. Such arrogance. Such disrespect. You've seen her tuskless plans fail Torobatl. You've watched her cast aside Cabal tradition to bow to the City and their Light. She fights alongside the very soldiers who slaughter your brethren, while I bend them to my will. Who is the true leader? The answer is clear. If only she had followed me as you do. Finally. Exalted most of all, you elite few who have stood with their emperor from the beginning, who grew fat with strength in exile: we are blood. As you have shed for me, I will shed for you. My flesh, my riches, my goblets of royal wine. They are yours. You are honored above all, and when our new Cabal stands before eternity, you will be among the first. I have heard the rumors whispered between you, my subjects. Rumors fed to you by our enemies. Your hope that I have not been vanquished is well placed, for I am so very much alive. You fear that we are defeated, but nothing could be further from the truth. You wonder if I am a spirit, if I have become something beyond Cabal, if I have ascended like Acrius did when he cradled the sun in his grasp. Allow me to soothe your curiosity: yes, I have become all you have imagined, and so much more. The Guardians believe they hold victory, but soon, they will see the truth they have ignored with such determination: this road is long, but it only has one end. They served to set my plans solidly in the foundations of the universe. Their petty attacks, while tragic in their costs to my dear crew, cannot halt our purpose. So, my soldiers… I leave you this task: hold the Leviathan. Show no quarter to those who would walk the halls of your home as invaders. It is your final task before you may be uplifted to sit beside me at the end. I do not promise that every Cabal standing on the Leviathan will survive this journey, but under my loving watch, you will live and die in nothing less than greatness. What more can a warrior desire but an exciting life and a good death? Have I not given you both? -From the mouth of Amsot, High Scribe to the unbound emperor, Calus, who none can contain: Rejoice! Praise Calus, who ascends. For he keeps you in his mind, and there you will never die.

Taraxippos 1030121919 DestinyCollectibleDefinition

Kay's Command 3541326820 DestinyInventoryItemDefinition

Arc Damage Resistance 1980826824 DestinySandboxPerkDefinition

Reduces incoming Arc damage from combatants.

Stoic When Panicked 3089071559 DestinyCollectibleDefinition

This mod's perks are only active in the "Crota's End" raid. Multiple copies of this mod stack and improve its effects.

IV - Promise 3603776994 DestinyLoreDefinition

We had discovered a ship full of Human usurpers hiding behind one of the moons of a dusty red world they called Mars. Generations of survivors cowering on a derelict colony ship since the Great Machine failed them. Siviks, Rakis, and I led the raiding party that boarded their vessel. The Humans were malnourished and pitiful, yet they still tried to fight us. The battle was short and brutal. I watched Rakis rip a usurper's arms out of the sockets and throw them to the floor. He was so strong back then. We all were. Our growing Ether shares were intoxicating, as was the bloodlust of unrestricted violence. Rakis was massive, even then. Stronger than all of us. One of the Human champions—if they could be called such—challenged Rakis. The rest of us stood by as he tore the Human's limbs off, one by one, and then crushed what was left of the champion's head between his hands. The other Humans threw down their arms and begged for the lives of those who did not fight. Noble, but foolish. I corralled the survivors into an airlock and sealed them inside. Rakis and Siviks disagreed with me on how we should handle them. Rakis suggested that they would be more valuable in servitude, rather than be given to the cold dark. "Imagine it," he asked of me, "usurpers wearing the sigil of our House, doing our bidding for us." Siviks seemed amused by this notion. "Usurpers serving us," he said with delight. "We could steal back the Great Machine's favor by taking from them their identity." Rakis reached for the airlock controls, and I struck his hand away. He looked at me with confusion, and attempted again, disrespecting my leadership in front of the others. I knew I had to do something. Without hesitation, I evacuated the airlock into space, killing our captives. The brothers, angered, fought back. I held honor to my aspirations. Strength above all. I butchered half the Dregs loyal to Rakis and Siviks, then turned my blades on the brothers. In spite of their struggle, they ended the battle at my feet, half their followers dead and the others huddled in fear. My mother was fluent in the language of violence, but I was eloquent. I marooned Rakis and Siviks on an asteroid for their final punishment, along with their surviving crew and left them with a knife and my mother's lesson: "When your crew questions your leadership, you make examples of them." I returned to our Ketch, towing the derelict colony ship. When I told my mother what had become of Rakis and Siviks, I expected her to approve; but instead, I saw something haunted in her eyes. I thought she was ashamed of me, of what I had done, but I was only following her example. I was victorious, and yet in victory, I felt emptier than in any failure. It was not until much later that I realized the truth. My mother was not ashamed of me. She was ashamed of herself.