Gideon
the priest
Give your heart and soul to charity
'Cause the rest of you
'Cause the rest of you
A city that demanded it's citizens bodies sounded grim indeed; Gideon's brows furrowed as he tried to imagine that in Caido. When his father had died, if someone had snatched away his body for their own mysterious purposes, he would have surely argued and fought to bury him properly; perhaps if he had grown used to that way though, he would have accepted it. "Mementos are certainly worthwhile...still, here, if you are ever in the unfortunate position of burying a friend or family member...there is nothing to stop you doing so."
He did indeed look down at the inscription, a soft smile coming to his lips as he did. "Very sweet." Not one for romance, he wouldn't ever give a gift like the one he held now, but it did speak of a loving father and husband.
"Preaching is my entire life. I'd say I was pretty good at it." He winked, resisting the temptation to ask for any more of the booze, a task that took a remarkable amount of willpower. "Just remember what I'm preaching can save your life. The Gods here are real, unlike in some Outlander worlds, and what you do has consequences."
Nodding approvingly at her choice of wood he went back to whittling his own, carving out a rough neck and head. "That will do fine. A dark figure in rags is all you need." As for the other Heralds...he sucked his teeth as he thought about it, turning the wood over in his hands. "They each have a festival related to them, but making dolls is not usually a part."
He did indeed look down at the inscription, a soft smile coming to his lips as he did. "Very sweet." Not one for romance, he wouldn't ever give a gift like the one he held now, but it did speak of a loving father and husband.
"Preaching is my entire life. I'd say I was pretty good at it." He winked, resisting the temptation to ask for any more of the booze, a task that took a remarkable amount of willpower. "Just remember what I'm preaching can save your life. The Gods here are real, unlike in some Outlander worlds, and what you do has consequences."
Nodding approvingly at her choice of wood he went back to whittling his own, carving out a rough neck and head. "That will do fine. A dark figure in rags is all you need." As for the other Heralds...he sucked his teeth as he thought about it, turning the wood over in his hands. "They each have a festival related to them, but making dolls is not usually a part."
The best of you, Honey, belongs to me
