1. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    The dawnling's expression shifted to one of mock disbelief. 'Don't fancy humpin' poor ole Bertha here back to camp, huh,' he huffed, dark eyes glimmering in the half-light as he held out a hand, palm up, awaiting the rope and vessel the dusker had alluded to only a few moments ago. 'Alright...
  2. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    It was a good shot, the kind one made through years of training, trial and error. Faramund reckoned he could not have done any better if he tried. 'That's a fine aim you've got, Osy,' the dawnling answered with a grunt, descending the slope with long, bounding strides. She had picked her target...
  3. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    'Maybe,' the dawnling acquiesced with a nod, 'maybe not.' He didn't have it in him to argue on the finer points of his character, lacking as it was. 'One thing I am certain of is that wisdom is not borne of age nor ensured by it,' he continued, bending at the waist to give Syr Guffers a...
  4. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Whilst Osytha and her dog investigated their findings, Faramund moved further ahead, his profile lowered, two hands on the too-long stave he had been given for the hunt. The spear's length would come in handy if any of the porkers decided to rush him, but the trees and foliage were a nuisance he...
  5. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    'No shit.' Faramund's smile was a fleeting thing, barely there. William was an orphan. No parents or grandparents to speak of, no neighbours or cousins or friends. He had just appeared one day, straw doll in hand, caked in mud and soot and not much else. A survivor of some horror his little mind...
  6. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Having dispatched a veritable army of foragers to search the surrounding landscape, the two knights set off towards the copse with nary a wasted second. Shouldering the spear like he was a soldier in some noble laird's army, Faramund fell into step alongside Osytha, strides shortened out of...
  7. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Faramund followed Osytha's gaze down to his dirty feet. Another young syr had once remarked that he possessed toes as thick as thumbs. Of course, he had answered by pointing out that thumbs tended to vary per the hand they belonged to, but that was a whole conversation he would rather not see...
  8. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    It wasn't right, but what could they do? Walking ahead of the procession, boots slung over one shoulder, Faramund kept his eyes on the horizon whilst his mind lingered behind. Following the beaten path, he allowed his thoughts to meander, like the road itself seemed to do every so often, as if...
  9. Faramund

    Open A Festival of Lights

    'Oh, aye, and with the brisk wind pinchin' me earholes closed, I'll be certain t' ignore said order,' he gruffed, gold-flecked eyes full of mirth as he turned them on the dusker. 'Well, least there's less o' you t' get cold,' replied the dawnling, the guilt of yesterdays receding, if but a day...
  10. Faramund

    Open A Festival of Lights

    The bundles dug into the knight's shoulders as he walked, halfway to nowhere, if only in his mind. 'Uneven steps... weight on the heel, more oft than not.' Observations spoken aloud, answered by a fierce wind, cold as it was biting. The oil lamp hooked through his belt fluttered and swayed as...
  11. Faramund

    Private Where the Light Returns

    Faramund's knife hovered halfway to the spread, crooked as the grin he wore, though no less sharp. 'Aye, a venerable elder, so you are.' There had been a time, not so long ago, when the two of them would've struggled being in the same room together. Now, whatever once-quarrel they had shared...
  12. Faramund

    Hub Breaking Bread at the Knoll

    'Hmm. I'd be more concerned with Syr Darthinian putting something in your drink, friend Thiel,' mumbled the Mund, shroud-frost nipping at his fingers, as if to hurry him along his chosen path. The look in Petra's eye bade him pause and frown. 'What? Is there something on my face?' A clawed hand...
  13. Faramund

    Hub Breaking Bread at the Knoll

    A shadow followed Syr Darthinian into the Knoll. Big, burly, it moved in silence after her, an after-image of what once was. Habits died harder than the fool's that adopted them. And I am certainly that, thought the Mund, not bothering to sweep the room as the Sun settled down at their backs...
  14. Faramund

    Private Where the Light Returns

    Coffee poured, Faramund set the steaming pot down amongst the baskets and platters and plates. The muscles in his arm twinged slightly as he drew it back, but it was a dull ache, easily ignored. 'Aye, I doubt she will,' the dawnling concurred, helping himself to whatever was in reach, and a few...
  15. Faramund

    Private Where the Light Returns

    The figure was nothing, just a flawed facsimile of a knight, behelmed and holding a sword. 'My shadow, y'mean?' Faramund's brows rose. He hadn't meant it for anyone, really. It was merely a means of keeping his hands and mind busy. Creating something rather than destroying. As I so often do...
  16. Faramund

    Private Where the Light Returns

    'Up to no good, I'd wager.' Faramund replied, peering from his cubbyhole like a gnome from the ground sans the pointy hat. 'What've you got there? Grub?' Breakfast, that's what Aarno had said. In a basket, no less. Very fancy! 'Let me guess: fish and seaweed, and salt.' Sitting up, the dawnling...
  17. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    'That's the thing, Davina. You have to... ask for absolution to be forgiven.' And that's out of the question right about now, he mused darkly, meeting the pain and her venomous words with bared teeth, like an animal backed into a corner. Maybe there was more of the wolf in him than he first...
  18. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Despite the pain, in spite of the despair darkening his thoughts, Faramund grinned at Aarno's question, every bit the warrior he had once known himself to be. 'With tooth and bloody claw, if needs be,' he replied, piling on the faux bravado til it soured on his tongue. He nodded, then, throat...
  19. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    It sounded like a threat. "Do what I say or I'll finish the job Urbos started." It was enough to make Faramund smile. 'Yes, mamzel, I'll behave,' he nodded, though even that set his head to spinning. Not like I'm going anywhere. Pain still probed at his sides, poking at the wound that had been...
  20. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    'It already hurts.' Faramund mumbled, eyes roving the rafters as Davina bade him bite down on the leather she thrust between his teeth. His body tensed as she set to work with the blade, slicing through his gambeson to get at the wound beneath. Damned thing was ruined anyway. Blood-soaked. Rent...
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