Draco the Elder, Shipwright

[𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖚𝖘𝖍 2236]

 

 

Upon arrival, Draco was in need of great medical care barely escaping the Mori if not for his great-granddaughter Hilda aiding him along the way. He rested many moons and began gathering some strength back, taking laps around the square and sitting his old bones as he watched Hilda grow and lead a life with depth of her culture and country. After some days the tunnel was found leading into the untapped lands of Failor. They found the exit of the tunnel peered across the grasslands to the distant sands and with no time wasted could faintly see brigands engaged in combat further in the desert that seemed to only draw closer.

 

Despite his old age his grand-daughter was able to help his slow legs transport across the sands. He found himself proud as he witnessed her display of martial prowess by defeating the Brigands that pursued them. Finally they could settle a refuge. The barren lands of Failor certainly were no place for an elder Norlander but Draco would not turn back for the life of him. They crafted ships and set down the stream between the Desert and Grasslands letting the wind & sails guide their path.

Eventually, they find themselves settling in the camp refuge where they would protect as they recovered  from the disasters of the Mori invasion. Draco finds himself with a bit of narcolepsy as he sleeps very commonly within his older age. During the awoken hours he would be found spending precious time with his great-granddaughter. They often share a tankard of an old family recipe of the non-alcoholic version of Norlandic Wine. In his spare time Draco guides himself to the relic of an ancient ash tree bark as he grasps carefully in his hands and whispers a prayer to the Patron Athelflaed.

 

“Asheth guides my kinsman.”

 

[AnonymousAlexa 3877]

Hilda Freysson wiped beads of sweat from her forehead as she trudged onwards through the endless deserts, guiding along her ancient great-grandfather in tow.