1. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    'Soft beds? So much for shared hardships.' The quip came and went, easy as you please. Suppressing a guilty smile, Faramund did nothing to avoid Breklinn's questing hand as it caught him upside the ear. 'Idiot,' she spat. 'When're you gonna learn to keep your big mouth shut, huh?' Fires quelled...
  2. Faramund

    Private Burials

    'Nothing worth mentioning.' Faramund had listened to the footsteps grow louder and louder. Caught in a haze of contradictory emotions, he had remained sitting upon the Pursuant's approach. Cast in the warmth of a dying sun, he had foregone his cloak in favour of a quilted gambeson and hose, the...
  3. Faramund

    Private Burials

    Sleep had been an absent friend as of late. Uncaring of his wishes, it sought him out when he least expected it, catching him off guard and unprepared for the nightmares that followed, always. Are they, though? Nightmares? Faramund had reason to doubt. What he believed true could not be trusted...
  4. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    It gladdens me to know you remain your usual, cheerful self, syr, thought Faramund, swallowing down a retort for discretion's sake. Turning instead to the dusker bearing down on him, the dawnling smiled as she gave him a hand up, her expression one of false annoyance. 'Evidently not well enough...
  5. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    A grunt as Mund knocked on wood. 'We're alive, ain't we?' The engine room's door cracked open again, the marines stood guard parting to let the weary weavers through. 'I'm sure there's a seer or two left aboard this tub with the matter to get it moving once more.' From the waterways to the air...
  6. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    Collision put the dawnling on his back with a grunt. Powerless, he found himself unable to stop the slide that followed the Vasdaya's forced landing. Down, she went, then up, as if buoyed by the very waters into which she'd plunged. The three weavers rose with her, each sliding or slipping or...
  7. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    The Vasdaya juddered as Faramund descended, leaving the clean-up to those who knew what they were doing. Deck by deck, he made his way down to the engine room, each breath the airship took sounding less laboured than the one that preceded it. To Faramund's untrained ear, it seemed as if the...
  8. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    'Oh, aye! Would you like a cup of tea, first?' A brave bastard, was Bebin. A good friend, too. Is that why this hurts so much? Faramund wondered, going against the grain and doing as bid. Of all the brethren, Syr Bebin was perhaps the closest thing he had to a brother. Not many would have stood...
  9. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Faramund huffed an amused laugh. 'Svala, eh? Well, at least I can have a half-decent conversation... with her.' He grinned, though even that hurt. Bloody spirits! Farren owed them both a drink for the shit her cousin had put them through. 'Fuckin' Urbos.' Staring up at the lighthouse, the...
  10. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    The decking jumped and lurched. Slipping on blood-slick timbers, Faramund went down on one knee, then all fours as the ship continued to shake and buck, like a beast of burden driven too hard for too long. Bodies flailed for purchase as the Vasdaya heaved skyward. Faramund saw more than a few...
  11. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    Fire licked at Faramund's boots as he pressed in to meet the vanguard, unafraid. His sabre caught the shroudweaver in the neck. Muscle and sinew were no match for tempered steel. The shroud-fire eating at the ship's decking went out, the officer's direct intervention a godsend for the men and...
  12. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    'Change,' he repeated the word, as if it had not crossed his mind. That is what I am afraid of. He was in the process of becoming something... other. Evil, he was not, but the monster within knew no reason. Nor would it listen should he choose to resist, as he had tried to do before. Many a time...
  13. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    The blast didn't knock him out, and for that he was grateful. Thrown nigh twenty feet from the trail, he had landed amongst the brush with a curse and a cry, the latter pinching off as the ground punched the breath from his lungs. The wall of heat took the rest. Gasping, his beard singed, ears...
  14. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    The tears continued to fall as the Midnight Sun passed over the plains of Khurun, a silvery beacon against the true dark beyond. Bathed in its light, head down, Faramund felt as if a great blanket had settled across his shoulders. Warm. Comforting in its familiarity. It didn't take the pain...
  15. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    If Oliver was hoping for some kind of a response, he wouldn't get one. Motionless, the doppler's blank visage was a testament to Faramund's woes. Whatever light lingered there, behind the eyes, was one bad day away from being snuffed out for good. If not for symbiotic relationship they shared...
  16. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    'Maybe. Likely. But it won't be me.' That was the point. An end to all things. For a time, at least. Memory was a fickle thing. Faramund remembered next to nothing of his past life, or lives. Why should this time be any different? It won't be me, he promised himself again, when I'm gone, it'll...
  17. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    My mistakes? My guilt? Faramund could not help but smile. 'None of us are as we were before,' he replied, wiping the expression from his face. Oliver was a stoic. He would not see the humour in his words. Perhaps that was what made it so funny to begin with. The sword lying in the dirt near...
  18. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    At first, Faramund did not obey. Relief mingled with resistance to the spoken order. What this it? Would Oliver do as asked and deliver the mercy stroke, or would whatever sense of fellowship remained stay his hand? For they had been kith, once. Not so much friends as allies bound by common...
  19. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    'She doesn't find us safe,' agreed Faramund, the knife still clutched firmly in his hand. 'Why do you think that is, brother?' Raising his eyes until they found Syr Oliver's, the dawn-thing posed a question he already knew the answer to. The trinemorro knew, also. So careful, so cautious, and...
  20. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    'I know, but it's that or a knife twixt the ribs,' came the dawnling's reply, no longer knowing whether he was joking or not. In the Mount, all his fears had been focused down to one tiny point. But out under the open sky, they had room to grow, to fester, as he feared Bebin's leg might, given...
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