Scyl of the Drakes Champion Lore
The Gaellen War brought all of Teleria down to its knees. No power was left unscathed, even those that tried to avoid the conflict between the Gaellen Pact and the Telerian League. The war was eventually decided by the League’s invasion of the Sorrowlakes, in which they pushed the Gaellen Pact back to their capital — the City of Dreams. Leading that force was the greatest commander of the Gaellen War: Princess Scyl of Frostheim. From an early age, the princess learned the lessons of war — both the horror and necessity of it.
Princess Scyl faced tremendous opposition, and not only from the Gaellen Pact. Leading a diverse alliance from across Teleria brought its own difficulties. Her army consisted of High Elves from Aravia, the Banner Lords of Kaerok, her own Confederation of Frostheim, and the Sacred Order — each with their own military hierarchies. While many argued for territorial gains, she alone realized that the key to ending the war stood at eliminating the Pact’s leadership. It took Scyl all her military experience and skills at diplomacy to convince her bickering allies.
Despite the strength of the League, the Gaellen Pact made the Princess fight for every inch of ground. Lizardmen ambushed her ships on the rivers, tortured Skinwalkers fought ferociously for their very existence, and burly Orc and Ogryn forces punished the League at every turn. Above all those threats, Princess Scyl had to contend with none other than Rhazin Scarhide – Peacemaker, Founder of the Gaellen Pact, Clan Lord of Dreams, Last of the Warclave, and greatest Drake breeder in all the Sorrowlakes.
Scyl’s campaign against Rhazin went down in history, earning the princess her own sobriquet. Proud warriors throughout Anhelt sing of the deeds of Scyl of the Drakes, celebrating her heroism and sacrifice. Their favorite part is the climactic battle at the City of Dreams, where Princess Scyl fought Rhazin Scarhide himself at the City of Dreams’ heart, the high temple. Truly, the story is a grand demonstration of the might and power of the Telerian League… except those tales are always incomplete. Nobody can agree on the nature of Scyl and Rhazin’s duel, or even who won. Some say Scyl drove her blade through the lizard’s heart. Others claim the two killed each other, while still others believe that Rhazin bested Scyl and fled into the night, his grand city burning to ashes behind him. To this day, their fate remains unknown.
The truth is, as always, elusive and complex, and perhaps not the story that a drunken knight of the League would be proud to sing of at all. The greatest tragedy is how few know what really happened, and how much the truth might change the world…
Scyl of the Drakes Storyline
Scyl of the Drakes is a terrifying force to behold on the battlefield. Her ranseur glittering in the sunlight as it whistles through the air in brutal swipes and swings, her dragonscale cloak billowing behind her, Scyl cuts and imposing image worthy of a true Warrior Queen. Her foes reel and break, unable to match her fury, while her allies find themselves invigorated in her presence, their fatigue and pain banished by the blessings of the Phoenix.
Once, Scyl was nothing more than a terrified girl, orphaned by ruthless Knights Revenant cultists who razed her home village to the ground and slaughtered its inhabitants. Scyl alone managed to escape, but she was merely a child trapped in the Deadlands with nary a hope of survival. She should have died there, but providence intervened. The Disciples of the Drake, a dragon-worshipping troupe of outcasts and exiles, found Scyl when she had already lost consciousness from dehydration and hunger. They brought the girl to their hideout and nursed her back to health. In turn, she was sworn into the troupe’s service, though it soon became apparent that Scyl’s talents lay not in cleaning and cooking and tending to the myriad everyday needs of the camp, but rather in the art of battle.
The Disciples were not numerous, so any fresh blood was welcome among their warriors, and Scyl had proven herself both capable and passionate. She bested all of her peers and many opponents older and more experienced by the time she came of age, swiftly taking her place among the raiding parties and earning her share of glory in uncompromising hit-and-run attacks against Orcs, the Undead, and Knights Revenant parties venturing into the Deadlands.
In due time, she rose to command a small band of young warriors of her own, which grew along with her reputation. Scyl’s reckless courage led her to many victories over the course of several years, but it almost cost her everything as well. When a large Knights Revenant raiding party had been discovered camping among the desiccated cliffs of the Gronfang Ravine, Scyl, blinded by hatred, ordered an attack regardless. Her warriors and she were outnumbered, but they had the element of surprise on their side and struck under the cover of night. With stones cast from cliff crests and skirmishers moving among the rocks like vengeful spectres, Scyl’s warriors rained death down upon the foe. But the initial confusion passed and cultists threw themselves into the fray with maddened fury, pressuring the Disciples with sheer numbers and ferocity.
Scyla fought in the first ranks, as she always did, even as her warriors fell around her. Though wounded and bruised in the brutal melee, she cut her way through to the armour-clad dark priest who led the Knights Revenant force. They clashed beneath the starlit skies of Krokhan, and steel met steel. For several minutes the duel lasted without either combatant gaining the upper hand, yet soon cultists started flocking in to assist their leader. Cutting them all down cost Scyl precious time and strength.
In the end, she missed a mace stroke that shattered her ribs and left her gasping for air on the sand, her foe preparing to deliver the deathblow. But Scyl was not a warrior to give up even in direst of circumstances. In the final moment, she managed to reach for her spear and thrust it through the priest’s dark heart, sending him back to his twisted Master. Silence had fallen over the ravine; apart from Scyl, no soul remained alive amidst the cliffs, and even she felt life ebbing away from her body. Vengeance and bitter triumph remained her only companions at that moment, but she was not destined to die.
Unbeknownst to her, a powerful djinn observed the battle from afar, and so impressed it was with the young woman’s brazen skill that it deigned to appear in the aftermath of the slaughter. Wreathed in flame, it took the guise of a Phoenix and spoke unto Scyl the words of praise and blessing. She received a small fraction of its magic, her wounds mended before her very eyes. The spirit vanished, leaving nought but an exquisite cloak of dragonscale in its wake – a final gift it wished to bestow upon the warrior who had impressed it so. Scyl spent the day giving proper burial rites to her fallen warriors and returned to the troupe alone, where she was hailed as a heroine. Her reputation grew and, after numerous battles, she rose to lead the Disciples of the Drake herself. To this day they remain a force to be reckoned with in the Krokhan Desert, and servants of Siroth avoid straying into their territory lest they incur the wrath of Scyl of the Drakes.