"Your Light is a flame, Guardian. Kindle it, and hear it roar." —Lord Shaxx
Lord Shaxx charged onto the Crucible field.
"Gather close, my champions," he shouted. "Yes, both teams. I want to congratulate you."
The Guardians peeked warily from cover, then assembled before Shaxx.
"I remember the first time I saw a Hard Light shot bounce around a corner," he began. "The first time I handed over a Mountaintop. The first Guardian to bring Gjallarhorn to my Crucible."
The huge man shook his head fondly.
"I know the powers you hold will soon be commonplace, but I wanted to acknowledge you for being among the first to bring them here. To me."
"Thank you for showing me your crystal columns," he said to a Titan.
"For the swirling maelstrom brought by your staff," he said, nodding at a Warlock.
He walked to a Hunter in a few long strides and clapped him on the back. The Hunter tumbled to the ground so hard, his weapons reloaded.
"You threw scythes at them!" boomed Shaxx gleefully.
He helped the Hunter to his feet, then turned back toward the group. "May your strength guide us through whatever troubles are yet to come," he said, and saluted. The Guardians bowed.
Lord Shaxx stood proudly for a moment, his hands on his hips. "What are you waiting for?" he cried. "Resume the match!" And the Guardians fell upon each other once more.