Let me tell you a story. Recently, I hit level twenty three. And with that came the attainability of participating in the Tiger strike Vanguard. The lure of rewards finally overwhelming my frugal, miserly ways. The first strike went well. We butchered the Winter Archon with little difficulty, and I received my promised boons. But it was not enough, my tongue craved more rewards and I listened. Foolishly. Stupidly. I was not alone in my Hubris. The Vanguard sensed my abhorrent lust and saw fit to reward me with a [i]challenge[/i]. I was matched with a duo of under levels, both twenty two, and tasked with slaying the Vex that slumbered in the Nexus. The Tiger demanded respect. It was difficult. But we were experienced. We killed everything. Not unified, but mutually driven, we descended into the pit. Descended into madness. The Nexus Minotaurs are [i]crafty[/i]. They knew our disunity was dragging us down and capitalized on it. We would split up, and be torn asunder by the ambushing devils as they converged on us separately. Splitting us and insuring our fire was unfocused and spread too thinly to pierce their hide. Ten, twenty, times we descended to the Nexus floor, and each time our Ghosts dragged us back. It was then that disaster struck. Our Huntsman abandoned us. Each time he'd charged in, eschewing caution in fair of impatience. And the vice wore him thin, he left with vitriol and anger. That is all I will say of him. It was now two. Me, and Steven #Numbers#. I call him Steven #Numbers# because that was the most memorable part of his name. A [i]ridiculously [/i] long sequence of numbers running after his name. I don't even know that Steven was his name, memory is fickle when recalled. But that is what this story is, a testament to his memory, if not the proper name. We quickly learned that Minotaurs are best fought one by one. A careful game of scalpel precision, as we picked off the foes one by one. We weren't always successful, being scattered often leading to paired Demises, but we learned to work together. Indeed, #Numbers# finest moment came when he erected a defensive shield beneath the fire of five Minotaurs and the mighty Hydra, to give me the time to respawn, knowing his death was unavoidable. The Beast was a challenge when we were three. At two, it was a crucible. If we behaved impulsively, it would crush us beneath a devilish barrage of fire. We had no heavy weapons, and we were reduce to machine gun fire in bursts, ducking out of sight before its gaze slew us. It was a hellish fight. Devoid of glee or enjoyment, we slogged on with the determination that comes from facing a favored foe. Again and again we fought. And again and again the Minotaurs outfought us. This is not an epitaph of victory. We quit. The challenge too laborious for us. #Numbers# realizing before me that our battle was pointless. There were better battles to be fought. So we left. The Tiger got its pound of flesh and we left without reward for our sweat and blood. I celebrate comradery in battle this day, instead of victory, with this testament. To a Guardian who has both the determination to seize a challenge, and the wisdom to recognize when it becomes foolish. To you, Steven #Numbers#, I give a salute and raise you above the crowds, that they may see you and [i]know.[/i] Know your Virtues.