leave my ashes to the wind

ludo Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own ”Fire tends to be a handy deterrent.” In the darkness Ludo may as well be nothing more than a mask, hovering above the dolls Gideon has brought. They seem to slip away into the shadows, but if the Priest looks closely, he will notice that tendrils of cloth are snatching them away, appreciative of the offerings that have been left. ”Fire and sunlight. The Ascended are many things, but they do not seem keen for a tan.” If there’s a sardonic sort of smile on the mask’s face, then that is entirely Gideon’s imagination. Clearly.