Ghost fragment: death of a tainted wolf. [spoiler] They have come in droves. The house of false Kings is in the act of proclaiming their right to their crown, our light. The nameless one, my guardian, had gone with the Iron Lords of numbers 12 to dispute the claim. Only he remains now. Nulrliks prime, Ward of the Kell of Kings, has halted our advance. It sends wave after wave of Eliksni and bombardment in equal measure, the nameless one holding ground where ground was scarce. Battered and beaten, his visor constricting his view, he knelt before me, perhaps in prayer, perhaps in fatigue. He removed his helmet to reveal the dented metallic sheets that were once a face of care, and without word nor warning, it hardened in determination. I knew what he thought, but I feared it all the same. His eyes locked on me as he drew from his pouch a single scrap of each Iron Lords mark, cape, and bond. 12 memorials to the fallen, each handed to me. The nameless one then made my fear a reality, he handed a scrap of his own cloak to me, deliberate and unflinching. The last moment I saw of his life, was as he stood upon the prime servitor, the cloak he wore of Ana Bray's wolf blackened in soot and the void, his gun lying at his side, pulsing with death, and a hole through his chest. He looked down and smiled, not of his death, but of the hope he had forged from nothing. He died, so you may not Guardian. So the servitor would come screaming into the void after him [/spoiler]