Hector and Degarith

The Arch-Mage Hector of Flambeau is remembered throughout the Order, and the magi of his House look up to him as a great exemplar of what a magus should be. Tales are told of his defeat of Al-Qarim to become an Arch-Mage, of the ravaging of Fenellar, of the quest for Lyonesse, and, of course, of his death in the fight against Malkurrag. Scopulus Ungularum is one of his legacies, although a legacy that has fallen far short of his glorious example, and this story is of the founding of that covenant.

The hill where the covenant now stands was the lair of the Dragon Degarith, a true dragon, although not of the power of Wight. She was feared in the lands about, for her fiery breath had robbed many villages of crops, and the tribute she demanded was not one that could be paid by a Christian folk. Still, fear is a powerful argument, and many of the peasants laboured under the anathema of the church, and performed the rites in her honour, as she prescribed, and took her the first-fruits of their fields, and other treasures, in an attempt to placate her uneasy temper.

Hector heard of this dragon, of the misery she inflicted on those around her, and of the treasure that she had garnered by centuries of extortion. He saw a great opportunity to gain fame and fortune, and a site on which to build a covenant which would take his fame in to the future. And so, he set out for England, travelling across Europe leaving a trail of tales, legends, and ashes.

At length he arrived here, and hurried to Cornwall, asking people as he travelled for news of Degarith, for he did not care to hide his approach like a coward. And so Degarith heard of him before he reached her, for one of her servants brought her the news by a quick route, while Hector was still trying to find his way. Degarith decided that this upstart magus needed to be taught a lesson, so she sent her servants out with instructions to deceive him, and lead him to a village that had been lax in its performance of the rituals.

When Hector arrived at the village, he was greeted by the priest, a stern fanatic who saw all magic as the work of the damned. He was firmly adjured to leave, but he laughed at the priest, and brushed him aside. He did not kill him, because Hector understood that there is no glory in killing a helpless target: without the challenge, where is the achievement? Nevertheless, he found it hard to lodge in the village, for the villagers were all scared, both of their priest and of Degarith, and Hector's power was unknown. At length, a wealthy farmer agreed to lodge the magus in his barn.

In the night, Degarith came, and razed the village with her fiery breath.

Hector awoke amid the conflagration that had enveloped the barn, and strode out to confront the dragon, unharmed by the flames as his magic protected him. Degarith saw him as soon as he appeared, and flew up into the sky in shock. She breathed a gout of fire at him, and for a moment Hector was invisible within the fire, but it dissipated leaving him unharmed. And then Hector's confidence grew, because he knew that his Parma Magica was strong enough to protect him from the dragon's attacks.

As Degarith was flying, Hector took to the air also, rising above the blazing village on wings of wind. The dragon was in some confusion, as she was not used to anything that survived her first attacks, and she dived at Hector, her jaws agape. The magus dodged out of the way, creating an iron javelin that he hurled deep into her throat. Howling her agony, Degarith broke away and flew to a distance. Hector followed.

Turning in the air, Degarith swept her wings together and sent a blast of wind towards the magus. Buffeted, his concentration slipped, and he began to plummet towards the ground. Sensing victory, Degarith dived, her jaws open once more to swallow the magus. As he fell, Hector wrapped himself in protective magics, and let himself be engulfed.

Inside the dragon, he felt the burning heat of her vital organs beat against his magic, and sweat began to stand out on his brow. Thinking quickly, he created a thousand iron darts, and flung them magically in all directions, ripping though Degarith and lodging in the inside of her armoured skin. The dragon's scream shook him to the bone, and the sickening feeling of her fall was all too obvious. With barely time to concentrate, Hector broke a hole through the dragon's back, and called upon his wings once more, flying out just as the beast crashed to earth amid the remains of the village.

But, although badly wounded, the dragon still lived. She knew that she was mortally wounded, and thought only of revenge. Starting up, she lashed out with fire and claw, but the magus flew back out of reach, emerging from the fiery breath completely unscathed. Gouts of flame leapt from his hands, striking the wounded dragon and driving it back to the ground, where its death agonies scattered the smouldering remains of the village.

Landing beside the corpse, Hector gathered the vis from its body, before leaving the village and continuing his journey to the dragon's lair. There he quickly destroyed her few remaining servants, killing them before they could recover from the shock of disappointed expectations. He seized both the site and the treasure, and no-one in that region would deny him. Thus Hector found both the site and the money with which to build Scopulus Ungularum.