1. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    “Nay. Ah’ve not getten any appetite. Think if Ah eat reight now, Ah’ll chuck up.” 'I'd rather ya didn't. Least not while I'm within range,' the ranger gruffed, grinning, unable to keep himself from looking down as Osytha's hands knit themselves around one of his. Colder than he expected, and a...
  2. Faramund

    Private Forced Divide

    'Old money. Big place.' Akkelon was nothing special. Apart from its silver mines and the plateau it was built upon, there wasn't much else to write home about. No landmarks of note, nor any local traditions wacky or wild enough to draw visitors to the city year after year. Unless you counted the...
  3. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    What makes you so bloody special? Syr Heimchen and Faramund shared the same flat expression as Osytha gave vent to her frustrations. The former looked fit to say something. Positively aghast. Shocked into animation. The Dawnling, on the other hand, felt tired. What makes me so bloody special? He...
  4. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    The sight of that small wooden knight is enough to stir something within Faramund. 'No,' he lied, voice thick with poorly-suppressed emotion, 'not all the time.' Some days were better than others; sometimes he even managed to forget it. The Umbral Mont. The Shaper. The Sightless Cult, and his...
  5. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    Noise? Faramund's gaze fixed itself to the Dusker a moment, then took a walk around. Aside from the monastery's usual ambience, there was naught else going on; no festivities or welcome home celebrations for wayward knights. Nothing to drive a mind towards its breaking point. If anything, the...
  6. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    'Thanks for the tea.' The Mund bid farewell with an offhand salute, sharing a glance and a nod with Innis, before heading out the door ahead of Syr Osytha. Dusker. Lone rider. Sole bearer of burdens she refuses to share. Faramund understands. He's been where she's been, once or thrice. Too many...
  7. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    Set aside of his own volition, the Dawnling listened close as Helena cut to the quick, excising the hurt rather than compounding it. From an outside perspective, Osytha had the look of a woman worn thin, beleaguered, physically and mentally, by the trials undertaken on someone else's behalf...
  8. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    The Captain's office. Old haunt. Not a place Faramund felt he had any right being in, and yet here they were. Sipping tea. Listening as Osytha shared her findings with the group. 'You're too harsh on yourself,' the Dawn-Thing replied, kettle to pot, but honest in his spontaneity. 'That's good...
  9. Faramund

    Private Forced Divide

    The big Dawnling went deathly still the moment he saw the knife pressed against Cyd's throat. A mean bit of iron, so sharp it could shave a gnat's arse. Enough to open a second mouth in the pale curl of the sun elf's neck. "Now, no more magic, and no more lies. Stay right where you are, an'...
  10. Faramund

    Private Forced Divide

    Stubborn fucker. If Faramund had wanted to stare into a mirror, he would have. Obstinance did Kilhara no favours. Maybe brandy and a pretty face would serve to loosen him up. And no, I'm not thinking about you, Rimebol, mused the Dawnling, entertaining himself whilst Cyd worked her charms...
  11. Faramund

    Private Forced Divide

    Brown eyes held fast to the honchos butting heads. Despite all the posturing, the dawnling sensed that Kilhara was no stranger to reason, assuming the reasoning came from a friendly face. Cyd had removed herself from the situation already, if her conversation with Sverod was anything to pay...
  12. Faramund

    Private Hush, O Babe

    Soft earth muffled their steps as the troop appeared one by one from the treeline. Betwixt the monastery's outer defenses and the wylds, a large clearing had been made, axe-hewn stumps sprouting like wildflowers from the rain-wet ground. A killing field, with good sight lines, watched by...
  13. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Not these kinds of secrets, thought the dawnling, holding his tongue as the sky lightened, bidding farewell to silver and shadow. Brushing himself down, the knight made to turn, brown eyes flitting to where the troubled sat still, heads bowed, woe writ in the way they watched Lilia toss and...
  14. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Bloody-minded? Faramund smiled his killer's smile, teeth bared, gaze hardening in the time it took him to meet Osytha's. 'Aye,' he agreed, 'I'm nothin' if not stubborn.' Maybe she was right; perhaps he was being obtuse on purpose. But then she didn't know what he knew. A part of him wanted to...
  15. Faramund

    Private Forced Divide

    Catching the elf by the scruff, the dawnling frogmarched the youth to where Lethram had the rest corralled, a sword's point serving to prod the more bovine among them into place. 'Don't try it!' The dusker warned one cruel-eyed thug, sensing his intent. 'Stick me, go on!' The man spat. 'I'll...
  16. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    "Tell me, truly," said Osytha, as if she did not already know the answer. Need I? Colour returned to the world a heartbeat at a time. Sunlight straddled the horizon like a slow bleed, red and purple, black where the land refused to bow. It was a sight Faramund had borne witness to a thousand...
  17. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Dawn arrived in silence, though the world around him spoke still. In whispers and rustles, crackles and coughs. The camp didn't settle down so much as settle in; the children slept fitfully whilst the adults merely pretended to. In between the creaking of weathered sentinels, Faramund could...
  18. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Trading off with Osytha, the dawnling went about putting himself back together, his focus divided between Akke's past and their present. The cut itself is of little consequence; too shallow to require packing, too sure to require a healer's aid. The salve, at least, serves some purpose. In the...
  19. Faramund

    Open Buried Roots [KoA]

    A chill wind blew as the brethren gathered to bid farewell to two of their own. Cruel, uncaring, it stung the skin about Faramund's eyes, numbing him to the scene unfolding in the Monastery courtyard. Dozens had come together to see Syrs Etivya and Torgan into the next life; Sworn kin...
  20. Faramund

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Setting Akke down beside the fire, Faramund withdrew to tend his wound as Osytha saw to the girl. The sleeve of his shirt clung stubbornly to his arm as he peeled back the bloodied cloth, and the dawnling winced. 'What... was it?' Akke asked as the knight rifled through his kit for needle...
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