Faulke Tavian is a enchanter, herbalist, scholar, and master of disguise. As the head of the Thief Gendarme, he pursues the esoteric by any means necessary. This is a preliminary sketch for the cover of Daemon Lost which will display the ensemble cast.
Faulke studied the young men before him and decided to mimic their demeanor. If he was going to be turned away, he didn't want his adversaries hunting him down for his audacious inquisitiveness, but rather be dismissed as a local drunk.
He used what little transformative magic of fashion he had on hand, removing his leather doublet to hang askance in the crook of one arm while loosening his collar strings.
“Was your ugly mug and weak knees that soured her taste! Now bugger off!” grumbled one ruffian as he shoved the most drunk of the lot through the sheet of rain. He slipped in the mud splashing it over Faulke’s trousers.
“He's still weak in the knees for her” another of the group crowed while the others cackled in laughter.
“Tain’t just his knees!” the third called over his shoulder as they left to rabble rouse without him.
Faulke withdrew a vial of belladonna tincture, poured a few drops into each eye. He reached out an arm to help up the abandoned drunk from the street, mud still caked on half his face. “Time to be born again and slay your dragons” Faulke escorted the young drunkard back through the sheet of rain. He confronted the man's hazy gaze “Take me within like your brother and we will conquer as lords.”
Faulke studied the young men before him and decided to mimic their demeanor. If he was going to be turned away, he didn't want his adversaries hunting him down for his audacious inquisitiveness, but rather be dismissed as a local drunk.
He used what little transformative magic of fashion he had on hand, removing his leather doublet to hang askance in the crook of one arm while loosening his collar strings.
“Was your ugly mug and weak knees that soured her taste! Now bugger off!” grumbled one ruffian as he shoved the most drunk of the lot through the sheet of rain. He slipped in the mud splashing it over Faulke’s trousers.
“He's still weak in the knees for her” another of the group crowed while the others cackled in laughter.
“Tain’t just his knees!” the third called over his shoulder as they left to rabble rouse without him.
Faulke withdrew a vial of belladonna tincture, poured a few drops into each eye. He reached out an arm to help up the abandoned drunk from the street, mud still caked on half his face. “Time to be born again and slay your dragons” Faulke escorted the young drunkard back through the sheet of rain. He confronted the man's hazy gaze “Take me within like your brother and we will conquer as lords.”
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