Recent content by Hashwin 'Hazie' Freemont

Ever since he had been summoned back to Vulpinsula, there had been a clock ticking in the back of Hazie’s mind. First, the money. Any purchases that Hazie made on the Freemont’s credit would be known first to Eadric, and presumably to Kristine and Livia two minutes later. So, Hazie went...

There were no titles that could be conferred on Hazie that would make him untouchable in combat. The Hero of the Imperium might have been stocking a whole Pyrostoat trauma ward (and several private ambulance services) with new patients, but he had a bad left shoulder, and there was a shallow, if...

Earlier that evening… The sommelier was just adding the finishing touch - a thin, artfully curled slice of lemon - to his latest creation. The stoat smiled, though he knew his guests would hardly live much longer after sampling his work. A refreshing, sweet cocktail, inspired by the glamorous...

Hazie sucked up the last of the Bee’s Knees, and set glass and straw aside. Under his mask he was grinning. He didn’t want to know where the Black Fortress came from, nor did he want to know why Sunfur sounded like a stuffy officer one moment and a stammering teenager the next. Knowing the truth...

Hazie had just been about to give up and use his drink as a nice bee-themed prop instead, when she made herself known. The Black Fortress, Hazie named her in his mind. She was wider around than even Madame Battleship had been, all tiered layers and streaming dark ribbons fluttering off her, as...

The room was spinning, or maybe that was just Hazie. Did he look beautiful? Did his insect-eyes and wire-gossamer wings glitter in the myriad candlelight of the chandeliers overhead, the wall-sconces, the table-candelabras? Could he be in hiding, yet the centre of attention? Nameless, yet the...

Hazie too had heard rumours of the expected behaviour of a young aristocrat attending a masked party. In amongst the ever-refilling bowls of punch, the consumption of too much food, the behind-closed-doors indulgences of certain substances, and the elaborate disguises, who could really say, the...

Hazie’s muzzle closed. There was a kind of relief in his eyes, as though his regular flow of chipper banter only existed to fill a preferable silence. He signed back a quick acknowledgment, and took the lead back into the fray. His face resumed a glazed impassivity, though there was something...

“Hey, lad! Stick with me!” Hazie called, not looking behind him until it was too late. At a glance, he saw the hulking grey-furred brute bearing down on the masked fox that had so daringly come to his aid. The moment he hesitated, caught between his own duel and trying to return the favour to...

Hazie gawked with his namesake stupefied expression, as a young, slight-built fox in a mask and flowing cape leapt from head to head over the rioting crowd, and executed a perfect landing on the leader of the Vulpinists just as he had been barking numerous foully-worded orders at his...

“Good morning, Lieutenant Commander!” Hazie answered back amiably, watching with no small amount of curiosity as a sturdily-built cross-fox mounted the gangplank. Briggs looked every inch the handsome-if-weather-beaten, cheerful tar of heroic sailor’s stories, the kind they reprinted every time...

The day started in a pile, under a thick, shedding-stuffed duvet. Hazie liked piles - whether it was foxes or ferrets, rats or cats. He could bear even the worst days on the frontier once horrid isolation had been banished by a comforting embrace. There were many embracing Hazie today, keeping...