Recent content by Faramund

It's for a good cause! So what if they're all laughing at you? Ain't it nice to see folk happy and smiling for a change? Well, ain't it? Shaking his head, a wry smile on his face, Faramund let the slip fall from his hands to be trodden underfoot. Yeah, okay, maybe it was nice to see people...

'As do I,' grumbled Faramund, politely kicking the dirt from his boots before following Ringbom inside. 'Nice place,' he observed, 'very... tidy.' Indeed, the small hut was practically spotless, each nook and cranny swept and tidied away, as if the Old Man of the Woods had been expecting this...

'It's good to be alive!' It hurt to grin, but Faramund couldn't contain himself. Relief flooded him, made him feel whole despite the wounds he had sustained. Blood seeped from a cut in his thigh and the right side of his face. Half-blind, the hug had caught him off guard. But that was okay...

'For Byanka? A week.' Faramund shrugged. 'No rest for the wicked. Time waits for no man. You know how it is.' The world would not wait for her to sort out her affairs. Their enemies, less so. But the higher-ups knew the importance of morale, just as they knew they couldn't spare three competent...

He wasn't dead, that was a start. Surging from the brackish waters, drenched and drowning and covered in grime, Syr Faramund wheeled, wiped his vision clean with the back of a bloodstained glove. Red-black splotches stained his surcoat, linen clinging damply to his frame. He expected a head to...

The scores were in. 'Ten points? Not half bad.' Not half good neither. Someone on the panel had it in for him, it seemed. But who? Roe! Definitely Roe! Picking the dark-haired dawnling out from amongst the crowd of adoring fans wasn't difficult. For one, she was sat talking with the other...

At the hill's feet... 'Hold!' Glancing up, Syr Breklinn lets out a relieved sigh, her off-hand edging away from the dagger at her hip even as the other kept the Seer pinned to the ground. 'Thank the Gods! You made it!' Crunching through the snow towards her, Faramund and Jarro share a look as...

Faramund grimaced. If the questions swirling around inside Byanka's head had answers, they weren't forthcoming. 'Let's talk about it,' he said, following her down the stairs and out into the surrounding gardens. Faramund had always found the rustling of leaves relaxing. There was a cool breeze...

'Mmm.' Some small consolation, that. 'Not many of us do.' Many among the Order were orphans. Boys and girls without kith and kin to return to. Monroe, for one, had come to join the Chrysanthemums after her hometown had been burnt and razed to the ground, her parents along with it. Few knew the...

Ice as cold as death caught Faramund, slowing his descent but not stopping it. Gravity's pull was too strong, too constant to be toyed with. The monster thrashing around behind him, doubly so. Hurling himself out of the way of a snapping neck, the knight rolled, came up swinging. Steel struck...

Swords and axes and swirling snow. Blood, blinding his right eye. Ragged breaths, silent stares. Death on the wind. Narrowly avoiding the dancing axe, Faramund caught the sword with the strong of his sabre, twisted to strike with the leading edge. His darksteel found its mark, sent the man...

'A lonely existence.' Faramund sympathised. For the longest time, he had been unsure of his place in the world, and what his presence meant to the people around him. The Order had been a beacon of hope, in the early days, before he had discovered his true purpose in life. Or rather before...

'No need to apologise, Syr!' The butler replied, all airs and graces. 'His Lordship is a gracious host, as you are all no doubt aware. Not to mention, he has grown rather... fond of your Order over the many years he has ruled here.' A fair assessment, Faramund mused, though he could not help but...

The dawnling stalked the halls after Saskia, always one step behind despite the distance she tried to put between them. 'Moving, moving!' Walking as if he knew where they were going, Faramund hurried onwards, upwards. Dunhold was a maze of shadowy halls and dark spiral staircases. Luckily for...

Faramund opened his mouth to reply, but before he could... 'Couldn't have said it better myself!' He smiled, exchanged a nod with Monroe. His gaze swivelled back to Byanka. For all he talked, the dawnling had his doubts. Finding and saying the right thing in moments like these weren't easy...