Faramond the Initiate of the Macalla, Magistrate of Hamsah Mu'tazz

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Chapter 4

Faramond, Warrior Poet, penned this epic poem to commemorate the defeat of
Myrincyl, Imperial assassin who enjoys taunting people from the shadows

Little Bird

Little bird, little bird, little bird
How terrible your squawking
You come, for you have heard
Faramond took a socking
Out of the shadows you leaped
Faramond already quite hurt
In battle was Faramond steeped
Is unafraid of little bird
Have you ever seen a polearm?
Faramond must consider that
For you did so little harm
Before your birdy head went splat

Role

Chapter 3

Faramond, Warrior Poet, penned this epic poem to commemorate the defeat of
Shyen, Imperial bard of some repute

An Ode to Shyen, a Battle in Two Parts

You came in with your singing, Faramond's ears ringing
It lulled him right to sleep, his mind went blank and deep
He heard the distant screaming, was Faramond just dreaming?
Greandin and Lorihya! They battle in the area
And then suddenly woken, Lorihya's blade has spoken
And so Faramond rises, and Shyen is due surprises

Faramond bashes you in the arm
He thinks perhaps it will do harm
Faramond bashes you in the knee
You cannot move, how can this be?
So Faramond bashes in the head
Polearm blocks or could have fled
How is it now that you are dead?
Cannot answer, life have bled

Role

Chapter 2

Much has been said about the warrior poet. Some say that he polishes his armor
four times per day, so that his enemies can see their reflections while they
die. Some say his beard smells like tulips. Some say he subsists almost
entirely on a diet of fried turkey. These things can be neither confirmed nor
denied, for Faramond is a giant of mysterious habits.

What can be confirmed is that the warrior poet lives his life by a code. He
treats all foes with dignity and honor, no matter how foul they may seem. He
never lies, for the truth is to him as sacred as the lines of poetry he
writes. And most of all, Faramond believes that the structure of society
should be held as sacred.

Though the warrior poet himself lives for the thrill of combat, he recognizes
that not all are as strong, brave, and gifted with poetry as himself. No, laws
and society's infrastructure exist to give the common people a place to be
safe and to live out their small lives without fear. Those who seek to tear
down these safeguards must be stopped, and Faramond will glory in their
destruction. To that end, the warrior poet has joined The Blood Tribunal,
gifting them with his strength and poetry. He penned one of his epic verses to
commemorate the occasion:

Once there was chaos, but we rose above
Building great structures and laws
The small and the weak here gather in love
And they flourish there despite their flaws
And to protect these cities, they need the strong
To safeguard and brighten these places
So Faramond will battle all his day long
And beat in their enemies faces

Role

Chapter 1

From whence did Faramond, the warrior poet, hail? None know for certain. Some
say he hails from a small village on the shores of The Sea of Despair. Others
say his family were commoners, kelp farmers, from The Aryth Ocean. Still
others say he made his way over the Jade Mountains, from a lost tribe of wild
Storm Giants from distant waters unknown. The truth may be one of these, or
anything in-between.

When asked himself, Faramond only reflected upon the question as if it were
far more vast and complex than its simple nature, responding with one of his
great poems:

Faramond comes from lands afar
Some might even find bizarre
But they have rocks and they have trees
They have flocks of birds and bees
But Faramond fights with pole and hand
No matter what is Faramond's land

The farmer who asked the question was bewildered at the answer. But that is
the nature of the warrior poet, sometimes, to leave the audience in awe or
questioning the very nature of things. Yes, Faramond was one of those who
caused one to pause and consider.

It was said that Faramond would compose one great poem for every foe he had
bested in combat, describing the nature of the battle. Reading such poems was
to truly see through Faramond's eyes. Each blow, each counter, was outlined in
these epic lines of poetry.

So know, ye who read these lines of genius, that ye witness, in a way that
only Faramond knows better, the full fury of battle through the eyes of a true
master of both action and word. Be honored, for these words are rarified and
pure. Bring they a tear to your tender eye, feel no shame. For any who
experience such would be moved.

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