Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter One: Percival's Choice

After they split up, Percival found himself missing his family, and hoping that someday, he would see his sister, Orónëminya again. They had been riding for nearly four hours, and Faramaureä had finally stopped crying. As they rode south-east, and Orónëminya went south-west, Faramaureä asked Percival, "Where are we going?"

"While on a journey south once with father, we passed a village known as Drakoria. The village is small enough that it will take Gygax awhile to look there, but big enough that no one should question two extra faces." Percival responded, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of the King's Men.

"Percival, how are we going to afford this? How much gold did they put in the bags?"

"I honestly don't know, Faramaureä. I was told no more than you." Letting go of the reins with one hand, Percival reached back and held her hand to comfort her, before continuing. "I hope Orónëminya and Metimafoa will be alright. I already miss them in truth."

Faramaureä forced a smile for her brother, but he saw through it immediately. He smiled in return, and took in their surroundings. They were in a large forest, so dense that the light barely peeked through the tops of the trees, illuminating some of the leaves in a golden trim, while birds created a beautiful melody that was both heartwarming, and relaxing.

Faramaureä closed her eyes, and began to meditate, before letting out her own soaring vocalization, that when she finished, all the woods were silent. As the birds began to sing again, a Bluejay, it's blue plume of feathers in striking contrast with the green and brown of the dimly lit forest, flew up, and landed on her outstretched finger. "Utuvienyes lírinya, wilinmellon. Will you sing it with me?"

Percival smiled, seeing that his sister still found beauty in the world. "You found your song? Your song has always been with you, orónëtyë. I am glad it has not been broken, by your recent past."

Faramaureä winced at what he said but calmly responded, as the Bluejay flew away, now singing a song very similar to hers. "I would prefer to forget all that happened if you do not mind."

Percival lowered his head, disliking her desire to abandon knowledge. "Oh, it is no problem at all," he exclaimed, covering up his true thoughts, for the sake of his sister.

He whipped the reins, and prodded the horse with his feet, spurring the horse forward, as they continued to the village of Drakoria.

. . .

The village of Drakoria was a small farming village of around 100 dragonborns, set in a small fertile pocket of land. It sat in the bottom of a vale, at the base of an inactive volcano. At the top of the volcano, it had cooled enough so that a solid sheet of stone and obsidian, was now laying across the top in a flat surface. On top of this, was the abandoned mayor's house, which was made entirely of the volcanic rock, and had been both built, and abandoned, in the year 1038, of the years before the Council.

It was in this building that Percival set up camp. The building was uncomfortably hot, dimly lit, and was said to be dangerous, due to its location. The interior seemed to absorb all light, and by Percival's orders, they were not to use any artificial light sources during the evening.

However, that is not to say that, for a time, they were not at peace. Percival took the job as a blacksmith, and a miner, while Faramaureä became a teacher and farmer. Neither of them used their abilities openly, but Percival used his fire control to keep his forge, and smelter hot, while Faramaureä used her Druid nature abilities, to cause her crops to grow extremely strong, and healthy. They also used pseudonyms, while there, that they were taught by the Dragonborn mayor, Charirflathesek, who was called Volcano Watch, in the common tongue. The day they arrived, and revealed themselves to him, he turned to Percival, and said: "You shall take the name Ixennuade, which in the common tongue means Fire Ward." Then he turned to Faramaurea, and informed her that, "You will be called Achuakskjall, which is draconic for Green Tree." He looked them both over, and concluded: "Hide your names, and you will increase your safety ten-fold."