The Legend of the Cavalier
and the Dragon
also The Story of Sir Thraydin
Sing, Muses, of the honor of Sir Thraydin, Champion of Zamora, Mistress of Justice. Sing, Muses, of the virtue of the Dragonslayer and his love of a woman. Of the son of Thorbardin, born from the love of a goddess and a mortal man.
Sir Telamar Thraydin left the land of his former lord. He left with honor and with virtue instead of remaining in disgrace and sin. For the love the Queen of Cecilia bore for him was not unwanted nor undesired, but he could not, with honor and virtue, return that love to the wife of his Lord. So he set forth as a lone crusader of honor and goodness. His travels led him to the land of Terac Paradur.
During his journeys he battled evil and injustice and those things of an ignoble nature, but his heart was heavy. He left his lord who had been like a father to him. He had left the peaceful and prosperous Kingdom of Cecilia to go forth into the lands ravaged by the orcs and their kin. Now only bleakness loomed before him. So he fought. Orcs fled before his wrath. Ogres and trolls fell before him like so many trees struggling briefly against Thundering Chaos before their roots were torn forth from the ground. Even the younger Wyrms, those who were becoming known as the Dragons, fled when his name was whispered in to their ears by the Wind. But the darkness didn’t yield. Then, as he knelt over the body of the last of his many foes, his rage once again began to build up. As the Ogre’s blood mingled with that of its fiendish allies, the son of Thorbardin cursed the gods for letting darkness cover the land. He flailed out with his sword, blessed by the Holy Trinity and Palanthas, himself. He began mutilating the cooling corpses and slashing the trees as he ran through the woods. He cursed the gods for letting him believe he could overcome the darkness and spread light. But most of all he cursed his mother for giving him life. And then he lashed out at another tree, but instead of cutting into the bark, the sword broke. Its holy radiance gone, the sword that would never break when wielded by a man of true honor, virtue and faith snapped. Shocked by what had happened the Son of Thorbardin dropped the hilt beside the broken blade. The metal that had always gleamed silver with an inner radiance was dark and lusterless. Realizing what he had done he fell to his knees and began to cry and pray. He prayed to all the Gods of Light in their proper turn, but most of all to his mother. Then he saw a figure coming thru the woods. The cloaked woman was glowing with a pale, white light. As she got closer and he was bathed in the soft radiance he realized it was his mother. He leapt up and cried out in joy, but the sad look on his mother’s face stopped him. Then she spoke in a voice filled with grief, “My son, even though I may forgive you the other gods do not. With my love you shall not travel in the Path of Dark, but neither shall you ever again in your lifetime tread upon the Path of Light. Thus is the judgment of the Gods of Light and I have deemed it just.” Having spoken this declaration she began to fade and was gone. Thraydin was overwhelmed. His armor, which previously had always gleamed as bright as any star, was now as dark and dull as ashes. It began to crumble and fall apart and landed softly on the ground. The pieces turned to dust and were dispersed by the wind. The sword that would never break until its bearer did lay in two pieces upon the ground, blacker than the blackest night.
Then through the darkness came a ray of light, of hope and of terror. A female cry of fright and horror came through the trees. Without arms or armor, Thraydin the Fallen leapt forth. When he came upon the scene his heart skipped a beat. Cornered by two ogres in a ravine was the most beautiful maiden he had ever seen. Her elven eyes were crystal blue and her hair was of the purest silver. The ogres, sensing easy prey, were toying with her, threatening to torture and maim her and do unspeakable acts. Thraydin the Cursed leapt upon the nearest ogre, his resolve strengthened by his recent fall from grace and the beauty of the elven maiden. Though the Fallen Paladin’s leg was badly wounded, the first ogre lay dead, slain by his own blade. The second ogre, realizing who the man who stood before him was, even without the shining armor and terrible holy sword, turned and fled. The Son of the Goddess of Justice normally would let the brute run, but, after hearing his depraved intentions toward the lady, gave chase. He ran the monster down from behind with a spear he had taken from its dead comrade. Leaving the fouled weapon behind, he returned to the maiden. She was as wary of the human as she was attracted to him. She thanked him with a musical voice and, as he began to reply to the angelic being he had just saved, he collapsed from his wound.
When he awoke he was in bed. Sitting alongside him was an ancient elven woman. Remembering the maiden whom he had saved, he quickly sat up. She was not to be seen. The ancient elf laid a hand on his shoulder and spoke, “She is not here. It is not proper for an elven maiden to be alone with a human, especially a Princess of Shyllandryll such as Elysia Starshimmer. I am the Priestess Illystrial. Who are you and where are you from?” Thraydin told her his story and impressed the priestess, who had already heard of Sir Thraydin, Paladin of Light and Champion of Cecilia. And although he hadn’t spoken of it, the priestess knew of the love he had held for the queen. She also knew that he was cursed to always desire the light, and be driven towards it, maybe even reaching it for a short time, but he would never be able to stay there long always losing what he most dearly wanted. Any who shared the light of love with him would share his curse. Thraydin’s wounds healed quickly for he was a man of health and vigor. He learned about the elves and worked with them. He befriended them and they respected him, but he was still a human. There was talk in the village about him and Elysia. The king was not pleased and the talk died down and turned into quiet murmurs and whispers. The priestess, knowing the curse, wished to spare the daughter of the king. Despite her apprehension, the love between Sir Thraydin and the Gem of Shyllandryll grew. The priestess, realizing their love was true, tried to convince the king that the match was good. But he was unyielding. The lovers, by the urging of the priestess, vowed to win over the king. However, when they confronted the king he grew angry. He banished Great-Hearted Thraydin and locked his daughter away. The Cursed One, faced with execution, said he would rather die than be separated from his love. The priestess swayed his self-destructive course and convinced him to leave, for a short time, until the king reconsidered.
So he went into exile. The priestess felt responsible and tried to help Thraydin, but he just wandered the woods for days in a haze of melancholy. The priestess attempted to talk with him and console him, but he would have none of it. Then one day the priestess returned with awful news. The Terrible Wyrm, Obliviax the Black, had attacked, killing the king and devastating village and palace. Worse, the princess was nowhere to be seen. The two hurried back to the village. Buildings lay in ashes from the fiery breath of the evil wyrm and the palace had been rent open by her terrible claws. Scorched bodies lay scattered. Soldiers, who had attempted to drive off the Mistress of Death and Destruction, lay upon the blood soaked ground their bodies ripped asunder by the massive claws. Their weapons, which had broken upon impact wither armored scales, lay in pieces. A single black scale lying upon the ground unnoticed was the only thing that remained of the Terrible Obliviax. Thraydin ignored the death around him and began to search for his love. She was nowhere to be seen. The last anyone had seen of her she had been in the palace tower in which the king had confined her. Everyone, including Thraydin the Elven-friend, assumed the worse.
At that time a runner from another nearby village came into town. He was given food and water and was brought before the surviving villagers. He spoke of awful things. Obliviax was ravaging the entire area. Other cities had been attacked, some utterly destroyed, not a building or survivor left. The rage that had once nearly consumed Thraydin the Fallen began to build up. The priestess noticed this and spoke to him, “Remember your love for the Princess Elysia. I can read the will of the Fates in the stars and with her eternal love you can overcome even the will of the gods. But you can only do this if you keep your love for her in your heart. Give me until the morrow and I will give you a path to follow to love and light.”
The next day the priestess came to Thraydin and presented him gifts. She gave him armor of the blackest steel. He took it and realized it was strong and light. She presented him with a shield, also of the blackest steel, but it had runes of silver and in the center a silver griffin was engraved. “These”, she said in an old and tired voice, “these will protect you from the claws and teeth of Terrible Obliviax. These are made from her own scales and have been blessed to resist her fiery breath. Now, you need a weapon. The Princess Elysia was going to give you this as a wedding gift, but the stars say this will not come to pass in this life. Let your love guide you and keep it always in your heart.” And with that she handed him a sword. Not just any sword, but it was his old sword. It was still black, but it was whole, and had a new, different radiance to it. When he held it he could feel its warmth and he knew that as long as there was love between him and Elysia the warmth and glow would remain. The Ancient One spoke again, “The Princess searched many days for your sword and finally found it. She brought it home and through her love and magic was able to repair your sword. But even though it is as strong as it was before you can still see where it had been previously broken. A scar upon your sword, just as there is a scar upon your soul. And last night I added an additional blessing to your sword when I saw its name written in the heavens: Drakshuri Mortac, the Slayer of Dragons.” Sir Thraydin solemnly accepted the gifts and looked around him. The bodies had been removed but the blood and ruins remained. Never would Terra fully heal from the awful wounds inflicted upon her. Never would the heart of the Son of Thorbardin fully heal. He had lost his love. He would cleanse this world of the Dark Evil that was Obliviax. And he would have his revenge.
He prayed to his mother, the Justicar, for the strength and courage to punish and defeat the Daughter of Chaos. His mother heard him and sent one of her silver griffins to be his mount. The Champion of Elysia heard the screech of the Griffin and looked into the sky. Seeing the gift from his mother he silently thanked her for her blessing. Now he could meet Obliviax on even terms. As he leapt upon his mount the Priestess bid him farewell, knowing he would not return and she would not be around much longer is he did. The ceremonies she had performed the night before had taken their toll and she was no young and energetic elf. The griffin beat its wings and soared into the sky. Sir Thraydin the Just headed in the direction the dragon had gone the previous day. Soon a column of smoke rose up into the sky and he knew he had found his foe.
He flew forth. Suddenly out of the smoke and fire that was once a city rose Terrible Obliviax. She was huge and powerful. Her claws were like swords and her teeth were like spears. Her scales were as black as the blackest night and from her head gleamed red eyes each as large as his shield. But he didn’t falter. Sir Thraydin the Brave flew straight at the fiend. Her baleful gaze did nothing to slow him down, but the fiery breath made the white griffin veer off at the last minute. The adversaries passed again, this time Drakshuri Mortac struck the foreleg of Obliviax. It was a glancing blow, but the pain made Obliviax scream out as blood and scales fell to the ground far below. She retaliated by raking her claws across the chest of Sir Thraydin. The shear strength of the horrid fiend drove the claws into the armor, crushing it. The blessed armor was not pierced and, although he was hurt, he kept fighting. And so it went for some time, neither giving in to the small wounds inflicted by the other. As they raged against each other they passed by the lair of Obliviax where, unbeknownst to Sir Thraydin, his love was being held. The Princess Elysia heard the great battle that raged and knew it had to be her champion. Using the last of her magic she freed herself from the chains and rushed out of the cave onto the mountain top. The sight she saw both inspired her and filled her with dread.
Obliviax appeared to have the upper hand. She had wounded the noble griffin, badly burning one of his wings. This enabled her to get behind and strike at Sir Thraydin. Her claws bit deep into the Champions shoulder making him drop his shield and another talon slide between the plates and into his side. He twisted sharply, swinging his sword to drive off the evil beast. As he did the tip of Obliviax’s talon broke off and was left protruding from his side. She retreated out over the ocean because of the pain. Knowing that the wound was mortal, Sir Thraydin, Champion of Elysia and Paladin of Zamora, directed the griffin up into the clouds, unaware that his love was alive below him. As he neared Obliviax he swooped down behind her. She tried to dodge at the last minute, but instead of swinging at her, Sir Thraydin leapt from his faithful mount onto the back of the Great Wyrm. Terrible Obliviax screeched and hissed and tried to throw him off, but for naught. The Dragonslayer worked his way to the head of the Wyrm and plunged Drakshuri Mortac into the fiery red orb that was the eye of Obliviax. The Black Dragon screamed in agony, her death throes threw off the Dragonslayer. As he plummeted to the water below the griffin swept him up. Elysia called to the griffin as it neared and landed with the hero.
Meanwhile, the Terrible Obliviax floundered and faltered and plunged into the sea. Huge waves formed and crashed into the nearby lands. So huge was the Elder Wyrm that her body didn’t sink beneath the waves and being immortal she couldn’t die a normal death. Instead Terra captured her and locked Obliviax into the earth and thus formed the Peninsula of the Dragon.
Thraydin was finally in the arms of his love, but was dying. The Gods of Light, having been told by Zamora the just what was happening, had witnessed everything. At this time they came forth to lay their blessings upon their Paladin. Palanthas spoke, “Sir Telamar Thraydin, Champion of the Princess Elysia, Slayer of Obliviax, in our eternal wisdom we condemned you to never again in your lifetime tread upon the Path of Light. However, today your honor and your virtue are without doubt. But your mortal body is dying and cannot be healed. So we invite you to join us as the Immortal Paladin of Light. You will be our champion in the Heavens, but your time on this mortal plane is over. Princess, you are needed in the province of the mortals. You must honor your champion in his immortality and protect his body in the mortal world. For he is half mortal and he can never be fully disassociated from this realm. If his body is ever destroyed he will cease to be.” The immortal spirit of the Dragonslayer joined the gods of light and the left the princess on the mountaintop.
The Princess of Shyllandryll wept for many days. Her tears rolled off her face and landed softly on the body of her champion and the ground around them. When the Priestess finally reached the top of the mountain both the Princess and her Champion were gone. All that remained were the crystallized Tears of Elysia. No one knows where the princess Elysia went but most agree that she is still protecting the mortal body of her immortal beloved.