Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter XI: A Tyrant's Tangent

 Gary Gygax awakened in his bedroom the next morning and looked over at the empty side of the bed. "Until you return home, Faramaurea, I will wait." He then arose, dressed, and walked out of Faramaurea's old room.

An hour later, he sat on the throne, receiving a status report on the children. "Though the children have split up, they will have to meet up at some point, if they intend to take back the throne. However, we have no further intel on either of them, since their brief stay in Drakoria, and Elorean's flight. As for Métimafoa and his older sister, we have heard nothing since we received the intel that they were roaming near the Castle of Chameleons."

"Damn. " Gary cursed, his human side showing for a moment; then the moment was gone. "Oh well. We have other things to attend to in the interim. Have all of those who resisted my rule fallen in with the flock?"

"There are still some stragglers, mi'lord, but for the most part, they have fallen into line. Since the famine, it seems as though most of the people, myself included, just want to rebuild our lives."


Gary thought for a moment. "Perhaps I can assist you all in doing so. Have a list of all Castle positions that were opened due to... the famine, sent to me."

. . .

An hour later, Gary walked along the streets of Meneltarma, in the lower districts, and he was deep in thought. Perhaps I was hasty in my dealings with the heirs. They could have helped me in ruling the people. Faramaurea crossed his mind. Especially with her. I fell for her and took her, but she was not mine to take. He saw red, but not in rage, more like a river of blood, and he sighed. That price was paid in blood though, and not by me. I came in, seeking to save lives, by taking over the throne, so that I had the power to do so. A tear slid down his cheek, and he wiped it away. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to himself.

Then he steeled himself. I must not allow the people to see me cry. I must be as firm in public, as I am in my rule

At that moment, a siren sounded, and he was surrounded by guards, but they kept going, heading to the lower district. He stopped a younger guard, and asked, "What's wrong? Where are you all going?"

"Shopkeeper Luthanteryn's shop had an incident involving the unloading of black dragon spit. She uses it for-"

Gary held up a hand and cut him off. "That is unimportant. Is she alright?"

"We were given only the basics. I do not know yet, sir."

"Lead the way." Gary directed him, but as the soldier sprinted away, Gary realised that his youthful vigour was fading, and the soldier had disappeared from sight. Gary tried for a moment to follow, but he had no idea where the young man had gone. Then he noticed the cloud of black steam, and a smell of putrescence so powerful that he would have gaged, had he not steeled himself moments before. He covered his mouth and nose with his flowery left sleeve and ran toward the scene.

When he arrived there were guards trying to hold back the horde of disgruntled elves, who were trying to cross the street or to get closer to this latest source of excitement. He ran up to the nearest Lieutenant. "Lieutenant Turulië, reroute a detour around the road and lead it up by the old temple grounds. The only people allowed on this street for the time being are those who live here, and government officials. I want this crowd gone in ten minutes. Go!"