1. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    'And here I was hoping for some peace and quiet.' There was a smattering of laughter as Faramund flashed a quick grin in response to the Pursuant's words. A fist collided with his arm, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the dawnling. 'Ass!' Smiling, Syr Breklinn laid a hand upon the...
  2. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    'Bebin,' Faramund replied, finding his friend mid-meditation. 'Yes, the view was quite breathtaking, so long as you don't gaze too long into the abyss.' Though riding upon an airship was a novelty, it was not one the dawnling longed to repeat. The sway and shift, the thrum and whine of...
  3. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    'Aye.' No plan survived contact with the enemy, but it was always a good idea to have something in place to fall back on. 'I can always take a mosey on ahead, should the need arise.' Scouting was his business, and had been for as long as he could remember. Not that my memories can be trusted, he...
  4. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    It wasn’t real, none of it was. A bad dream, conjured up by a depraved mind. Surely, it must be, thought Faramund, pressing on in spite of the thoughts racing through his head. Surely this is all just a bad dream. Villages don’t just up and disappear, people and all. There would have been signs...
  5. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Blanketed in silence, Faramund stalked his way deeper into the seaside village. The cold clung to him as he passed buildings in varying states of abandonment, each as dead and empty as the next. He did not pause to search them. There was no point. Whatever trickery had separated him from his...
  6. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Grunting noncommittally, Faramund vaulted from the saddle to land beside his horse. Though he didn't view himself as a pessimist, he found it difficult to believe anything could live in a place like this, let alone thrive. The Catastrophe, that most strange of phenomena, had struck the coasts...
  7. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    'And impatience leads to ruin. Worry not, brother. Syr Lionel is many things, but a fool? Hardly.' Staring ahead, Syr Faramund studied the brother-Anathaeum. Having himself been partnered with Syr Breklinn, the dawnling could not claim to possess the same qualms the ever-personable Oliver did...
  8. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    The dead were laid out in repose. Sleepers eternal, they did not hear the words shared between brothers. Castor's comment solicited a wry chuckle from the dawnling. 'Ain't no rest for the wicked,' he replied in turn, removing his mask, the thin layer of ash and mud pasted there, around the eyes...
  9. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Mounting up, Faramund followed behind Aarno and Farren at a leisurely pace, his eyes on the ridge and the roadway behind them. 'Lovely bit o' scenery!' He remarked happily, his voice muted by the fog. Bloody shame we can't see any of it. Lóthlindor had warned them of this, before. How the...
  10. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    The skies over Cloud's Keep were awash with flying vessels. Deep-bellied mercantile ships. Sleek, ballista-laden frigates, and there, between Coin and Crown, a lone passenger ship bound for Crown's Hold, the capital of the Kingdom of Altalusia. 'About time, too!' Stood atop the foredeck, his...
  11. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    The Watcher's listeners were removed from their posts, one by one. Slow going, thought Faramund, wrapping the corpse at his feet up in a bloody cloak before dragging it deeper into the shadows. Better slow than exposed. They still had some ways to go, some ways to climb. Staring up at the...
  12. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    The waters off the coast had grown particularly cold as of late. Green and foamy and full of dead things, the waves washing up on the stony shore below brought with them tales of desolation and despair. Ignoring the stale stench of death in the air, Faramund took a long, hard look at the...
  13. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    So, this was it. The past coming back to haunt him. Sat atop the Eldyr's Lookout, face turned to the missive in his lap, Syr Faramund of Dawn read and reread the orders scribed there. Retrieve the Trinemorro child, it went, recover whatever intelligence is possible. Four names, two objectives...
  14. Faramund

    Faramund

    Faramund was born into the mercenary life. Quite literally. His father -also called Faramund- was a part of the infamous and decidedly short-lived Rodgier's Band, an organization consisting of mercenaries and barbarians who, for the most part, operated out of North Ilica and the Free States to...
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