1. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    Taking Mina in his arms, Faramund followed after Oliver, like a hound might its master. Sounds travelled far and wide, disturbing the senses, and throwing off what little remained of the dawnling's own. We need to hurry, he thought, repeating the words like a mantra, over and over and over again...
  2. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    He bled slowly, this agent. Part man, part machine, he was the perfect representation of what happened when science went too far. Madness flared in his eyes as he ducked and sliced, stabbed and parried. The stump of his severed arm dripped as he forced Faramund back. Blood as black as tar...
  3. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    Faramund did not relax. Could not, in truth. His worst nightmare stalked the passageways before and behind. Always close, always just out of sight. The Shaper. 'I... This is her, yes.' The dawnling fidgeted, uncomfortably hot beneath the folds of his stolen robes. How well they seemed to fit...
  4. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    The lounge plunged into darkness. Swirling, shifting, ink-black smoke filled the nooks and crannies, seeping through cracks, spreading to levels low and high. Figures moved through the cloudy haze, coughing, gagging on the acrid taste in the air, like burnt copper. The Agent closed its eyes as...
  5. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    Crouching down beside the body of his foe, Faramund drew back the man's hood. There was a collective gasp as the officer and the surviving enginseers took in the man's visage. Pale and scarred, cold as a wintry grave. And there, betwixt eyes unseeing, a brand beneath the thin layer of skin...
  6. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    The echoes of battle faded into nothingness as Faramund ran deeper into the Mont, desperation fuelling his thoughts as well as his actions. Memories of what once was shifted into premonitions of what might be. Loyal, loyal. My blood is always loyal. Running, rushing, he cursed as the tunnel...
  7. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    He didn't like being in the dark. There was so much about the situation that he did not know, and likely never would. Even so, he could not but agree that Aarno's words held some semblance of sense where there was none. Trust in her, he thought, the pain making him woozy, unsteady on his feet...
  8. Faramund

    Private Nightwork

    There were three more bodies in the yard; two men and one young boy. All had suffered the same fate as the man lying beyond the gateway, but these ones at least possessed weapons of a sort. A pitchfork and an axe, and a sword that looked like it had spent too many years rusting away above a...
  9. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    'Lero?' Or was it Liro? Faramund's memories were incomplete, but he recalled having faced down a Cultist by a similar name beneath the streets of Crown's Hold. 'Pale fellow, bald, with scars like thus?' He gestured, drawing invisible lines across face and throat. The officer nodded, brow...
  10. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    'Right. Of course. Was that before or after she got her ass kicked?' Starting up the slope after Aarno, Faramund's gaze lingered on the lighthouse. Namely, on the form slumped at its foot. 'Hate to say this, brother, but I think we may have made a mistake in coming here.' It was a knight's...
  11. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    'How about you leave the fool-ass questions to me,' replied Faramund, smiling up at Aarno through gritted teeth. Blood stained the rings of mail covering his side, turning the water in which he lay red. A dramatic scene, to be sure. The act of dying sometimes was. 'Nevermind me!' He swore...
  12. Faramund

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Bloodied but unbroken, the dawnling smiled in the face of death. 'You're right,' he said, back arching, head tilting back as the claws came for him again. A narrow miss. 'I'd probably give you the shits.' Pushing off his right leg, he drove in close, dealing a decisive cut to the creature's...
  13. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    With a nod, Faramund went. Womenfolk clutched their pearls as the ship continued to shake, the crackle of vox-talk doing little to calm their fraying nerves. The menfolk weren't much better. One, a paunchy fellow with jaundiced skin, tried to stop Faramund as he stalked past. 'You there!' He...
  14. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    Corpse-cold and clawing, Faramund took Mina into his arms without hesitation. Time was of the essence, and like always, they had little enough to spare. Even so, the dawnling couldn't help but linger as his brother called out to him, instructing him towards another passageway, once hidden behind...
  15. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    Footsteps echoing in the dark, the dawnling walked. Blank, expressionless, he sweated beneath stolen robes, unable to break free of the spell he found himself under. The Shaper's words echoed in his mind, a bad memory made worse by the remembering. A red face lingered in his thoughts - a mask...
  16. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    The pressure eased, and the doppler was thankful for it. 'Tea?' It asked, straightening up, a bead of blood trailing slowly downwards, following the contours of a face it had worn for the last ten years. Longer, perhaps. 'No, thank you. I am not thirsty.' A lie, that. The Doppler knew lying to...
  17. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    Faramund felt the deck beneath his boots vibrate as a shiver ran through the ship. The light in the lounge dimmed in and out as power from the Vasdaya's shroud-engines fluctuated sporadically. 'Is this normal?' He heard a nearby passenger ask, their hands pressed firmly into the table at which...
  18. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    Faramund didn't respond immediately. In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to. 'It's where the Cult forges its weapons,' he explained, vaguely. 'It's where... where they take those they capture.' Castor was not a bad man. Faramund knew that. He was skilled and he was able, and when he fought, he...
  19. Faramund

    Private As Above, So Below

    Checking his periphery, Faramund kept his eye on Yesna as Bebin interceded. 'Months? Really?!' Feigning interest, the dawnling took glass in hand as the bartender moved off to quench another's thirst. 'A lifer, aye, in service to Viscount Hargrave of Stellenger.' The red cloak was a dead...
  20. Faramund

    Private The Tools of My Enemy

    "Only Seen are allowed to witness.' Turning slowly, Faramund held steady as the guard slid from the shadows to bar their way. Bald and broad-shouldered, the man had all the complexion of a corpse, and not a very handsome one at that. 'Only Seen are allowed to witness.' Again, he spoke, his...
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