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Destiny Grimoire: Enemies - Exalted Hive


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Kranox, The Graven

"Their keeper of secrets."

Kranox, the Graven is said to be the Keeper of the Worlds' Grave, a vast repository chronicling the Hive's history of interstellar conquests. Every world they have devoured, every life they have eradicated, every enemy they've faced. Defeating Kranox and cracking the secrets of the Worlds' Grave could provide the City with the keys to unraveling the Hive's true goals and their ultimate plans for Earth.

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Swarm Princes

"The royalty of nightmare."

The Swarm Princes are terrible legends. It was their will that forged the Sword of Crota, a weapon meant to ravage worlds - the Great Render of Light, the Darkest Edge. They have waited in the shadows of the Hellmouth for their master's return, guarding the Sword and sating its ravenous hunger with the Light of Guardians who have dared to challenge them.

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Telthor, Unborn

"If you see an Ogre, you know you're close to something the Hive values."

The Unborn are those Ogres who have yet to be given the honor of a summoning. Brute enforcers with a singular hunger for destruction, the Unborn serve the will of their greater Hive overlords. Those Ogres that display loyalty and strength will be called for an agonizing ritual that earns them the title "Reborn." Telthor, protector of the Chamber of Night, is kept hungry and chained, awaiting the moment when an interloper breaks open the Chamber and threatens the Hive's hateful ambitions.

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Sardok, Eye of Oryx

"Until the Darkness reigns, the Eyes must never close."

There are whispers of shrines to the fabled Oryx peppered across the entire system. Stories tell of walking nightmares, protectors of bone and fury, towering over these prized chambers.

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Mormu, Xol Spawn

"How many horrors have they summoned?"

Behind every dark ritual lurks a coven of Wizards, the architects of the Hive's unspeakable designs. Mormu, born of the blood and flesh of Xol, is said to conduct terrible rituals upon the Hive's Ogres.

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Phogoth, the Untamed

"The summoning tempers their rage...but first that rage must be stoked."

Phogoth's presence in the Summoning Pits reveals yet another of the Hive's depraved designs - a ritual of rebirth, where an Ogre's ravenous hunger and violence is honed and given purpose.

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Blades of Crota

"They are the heralds of our destroyer. Ushers of this coming storm."

Vell: They’re more than Knights. Eriana-3: They look like Knights. Vell: That’s like calling you a tin can. Eriana-3: Excuse me? Vell: I’m saying calling them Knights is an understatement. Omar: What are they then? Toland: World carvers. Omar: Meaning? Toland: Those swords are neither bone nor steel. There’s a dark purpose to their edge. Eriana-3: Darker than death? Toland: Death is peace compared to the shadows. Omar: Those Blades cut down more Guardians than I can count. Vell: Hundreds. Eriana-3: Thousands. The Vanguard should’ve known better. Toland: I tried to warn them. Omar: But we’re prepared? Vell: I am. Omar: Not exactly the question. Eris: I have a feeling Light won’t be enough. Eriana-3: Then we’ll take their swords from their ashes, and cut them down one-by-one, Blade-by-Blade. Eris: You would wield a weapon of the night? Eriana-3: For her—them? I will butcher any who stand in my way with even the darkest blade. Eris: Pray it doesn’t come to that. Vell: Heh. To cleave our enemies with their own tools of destruction? We should be so lucky. Omar: You’ve got a strange view on luck. Toland: When you’ve got your hand around the hilt and their ash under your boot, you might change your tune, Hunter.

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Sardon, Fist of Crota

"One sword stands tallest among them, leading the charge against us all."

Vell: So this Sardon is one of these Swarm Princes? Toland: In a stretch of the concept, sure. He is their lord and master. They are his generals. Vell: Sounds like my kind of fight. Omar: What isn't? Vell: Eris and Eriana said the Blades rose first and slaughtered our brothers and sisters. If the one who leads their charge is within reach, I mean to end him—to end them all. Eris: We are here for Crota. Toland: I'm afraid each disciple is Crota. Vell: Then it must be done. Know that I have faith in your Light, as I do in my own. Eris: This isn’t about faith. Eriana-3: It’s about vengeance. Vell: It’s about the only thing that matters—victory. It’s about doing what we must to end this terror. Eris: We will face them all, together. We have no time to fight individual battles. Toland: I have no doubt the Fist will welcome your challenge, Titan. When we face him, you will lead the charge. Come, Crota's Temple lies ahead. If we can breach it, I'm sure another fight awaits.

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Might of Crota

"It is a mountain of rage, summoned to leave only destruction in its path."

Toland: When a god's Will is met with force, its Might will be unleashed in the form of those raging beasts we call the ogre—monsters bred of pain, tormented by the Light, nothing but hatred for all who bring its suffering forth. Eris: And how do you know this? Toland: It was told to me. Eris: By the Speaker? Toland: By the Darkness itself.

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Hand of Crota

"It crawls from the shadows to claim our Light in the name of Crota."

Sai: Can you track the others? Eriana-3: No. There is too much interference. The shroud is too thick here. Ghost? Ghost: <chhk> Yes. <chhk> Eriana-3: We in bad shape? Ghost: <chhk> Could be better. <chhk> Eriana-3: Any charge? Ghost: No. Something is siphoning the Light. <chhk> I’m getting weaker by the second. <chhk> Eriana-3: And Sai’s Ghost? Same? Ghost: Faint charge detected <chhk> but it’s fading. Its shell is damaged beyond repair. <chhk> No comms. No transmat. <chhk> Even if there were a signal— Eriana-3: Use whatever juice you’ve got and relay this transmission to the others. Ghost: They won't receive it. <chhk> Eriana-3: Not the point. Eriana-3: This is Eriana-3 of the Praxic Warlocks. Marked by the Cormorant Seal. I am alongside the Hunter Sai Mota. Our Light is nearly gone. The ash of untold Hive covers the ground in our wake. Unknown: [inaudible scream] Sai: Omnigul— Eriana-3: From what Toland has described we are on the path of Crota's dreaded Hand. Sai: The Hand is falling back toward the screams beyond these tunnels. Eriana-3: Screw it. You ready? Sai: My knives are eager for another dance. Eriana-3: You speak little, Sai Mota, but always say the right things.