The Tale of Sir Duncan
Long before the fall of Ostia, a young knight grew to great acclaim for his battle prowess. Born into a clan of dragon riders, his ferocity and lust for combat was beyond that of common men. The vast potential he possessed was considered by many a wasted opportunity in his era, for peace was what he had known as a child, and peace was what he had known through most of his adolescent years. Peace never lasts forever though, and when an unexpected war erupted, his long desired chance at fame and glory had arrived.
While men may refer to him as ‘Sir Duncan the Dragon Knight’, the dragons had a much simpler name for the man, ‘Brother’. The young dragon that was oft by his side considered himself to be of Fafnir’s bloodline, and not a soul dared to dispute it. Dubbing himself, ‘Faefnir’, he and Duncan fought in many battles as what seemed to be an unbeatable duo. As the war waged on, so too did the tales of their destruction spread.
Years later in an encampment between battles, Sir Duncan received a letter fashioned with the royal seal of Ostia. It was a message from the King of Ostia himself, requesting Duncan’s presence at court for reasons unspecified. Honored, he obliged and as quickly as Faefnir’s wings could take them, they made their way to the capital.
Upon arrival, Duncan’s draconic half left the knight to his business in the capital and chose to relax outside its walls instead. When Sir Duncan arrived in the throne room, he realized that he wasn't the only one whom the King had called, and when the expected few had gathered, the King spoke. He explained that the men before him were of great renown in the fields of battle, and that with their aid, he had a plan that would finally draw the war to a close.
It had taken a few weeks to set everything into motion, and each of the King’s men had played their part dutifully. The King’s words still echoed in Sir Duncan’s mind as he sat mounted atop Faefnir in what was to be the final battle. It was there on that great field that their eyes bore witness to the fruits of their labor. The full force of the foe’s armada stood before them, and victory for either side would ensure the war’s conclusion. The two armies simply stared at each other in grave silence, knowing that none of them would likely live to see tomorrow. While a nervous archer’s arrow is often cited as what set that terrible battle into motion, it holds little significance as the battle ended as a massacre to both sides.
Sir Duncan’s role in the dread that transpired there raised him to nigh-legendary status amongst the people of that time. The full depths of his battle prowess and sheer tenacity were on display, though it was the last the world ever saw him. At some point during the chaos, Sir Duncan was greeted by the sight of his fellow clansmen as what he could only assume was friendly backup. He was wrong. The exact number of enemy dragon riders that he fought is often debated, but all who bore witness to those impossible odds thought the dragon knight’s part in that battle to be over then and there.
Fighting, begging, and soaring through the sky, Sir Duncan and Faefnir pleaded with their people to stop. It was futile however, and it was only by a mad fit of desperation that they even tried. The dragon knight and mount managed to land blows and wounds on the enemy dragon riders, but for every bit of damage dealt, they got severalfold in return. A particularly devastating attack dismounted Sir Duncan, and as he plummeted towards the planet below, he was helpless but to watch as Faefnir was swarmed and tragically ripped apart.
It was at that point that the madness swallowed Sir Duncan, transforming him into a feral beast. While he still appeared to be human, he fought like something else entirely. It can only be assumed that by using his own essence as fuel, he managed to attain the monstrous power attributed to his legend. Still falling, he began to rotate his body until he was in position to take a midair instant-step towards the swarm. The dragon knight kicked and almost flew as he disappeared into the clouds to do battle with his kin. One by one they fell, rider and mount, falling from the rumbling clouds until their part in that terrible battle was over. Finally it was the dragon knight’s turn to fall, and fall he did. Bloody and broken, he descended until he was reunited with the ground below in a sickening crunch. His still living corpse looked on with dead eyes to the fighting all around him, until everything faded to black.
So ends the tale and historical record of Sir Duncan the Dragon Knight. Though the battle was a massacre to both sides, the King’s army had claimed victory in the end. The dragon knight was memorialized, but his body was never found. A few reports of seeing the man walking around began to surface afterwards, but if this accounting is to be believed, his bloody and broken body was beyond saving. If he lived at all it was in legend by the words of those who told his great tale. In the end he had captured the fame and glory he sought as a youth, and peace surely followed him in the afterlife.