Caledor Answers the Tayrathian Request
Hey Everyone! Today, I have a bit of new Lore for Tayrathi and her adventures in The Old World. I wrote this narrative for this weekend's Old World Torunament, Akron Brew Brawl. The narrative is very much inspired by my Calvary list that I am taking to the event. Enjoy!
Tayrathi leaned back in the saddle of her Ellyrion steed as she watched the sons of Caledor disembark from their ship. Prideful as ever, they were clad in full battle gear and astride their mounts, presenting themselves with ceremonial precision to Tayrathi as they formally offered their aid to her expedition from Ulthuan.
When the expedition had first set out, a small group of impetuous Dragon Princes had joined her—more for personal glory than any true sense of duty, or so she had assumed. Yet, when she had casually mentioned the need for reinforcements during a recent war council, she hadn’t expected Caledor to respond—let alone with such eagerness.
As a Daughter of Ellyrion, Tayrathi’s heart raced at the thought of open fields soon thundering with hooves under her banner. Her mind drifted to the vision of a massed cavalry charge when a dark shadow fell across the ground beneath her and her mount. A deafening roar snapped her back to the present, and her eyes turned skyward.
To her astonishment, a great dragon soared overhead, ridden by an Asur clad in the finest set of Dragon Armour she had ever seen.
Her mouth hung open slightly at the sight of the majestic beast, but she quickly replaced it with a confident smile. A dragon was an army unto itself, and its presence meant Caledor was truly invested in her campaign’s success. They would no doubt be seeking the finest Ellyrion horses in exchange—but she was more than willing to play her part in the intrigue at court.
Tayrathi’s gaze followed the dragon as it banked in the sky, its wings slicing through the clouds like blades of living flame. The sun gleamed off the rider’s armor, a radiant display of Caledor’s wealth and martial pride. She recognized the heraldry etched into the gleaming plates—a highborn house with bloodlines as old as Ulthuan itself.
So they sent nobility, she thought, lips tightening slightly. This isn’t just about aiding the expedition.
The dragon landed with a graceful yet thunderous impact, its talons digging into the stone as its wings folded back like a cloak of fire. The Prince dismounted with practiced ease, removing his helm to reveal strikingly angular features framed by pale golden hair. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked with Tayrathi’s.
"Lady Tayrathi," he said, bowing just enough to respect her station but not enough to suggest deference. "Prince Odiamh of House Roseblade. My lance, my blade, and my beast are at your command."
Tayrathi inclined her head, her expression unreadable. "Your arrival at Evermore Keep honors us, Prince Odiamh. I trust your journey was swift?"
"Swift enough," he replied, his tone clipped but cordial. "I received word that your campaign has drawn the attention of—lesser powers. I come to ensure Caledor’s interests are properly safeguarded."
There it is, she thought.
Whatever Caledor's intentions, they were not purely altruistic. Reinforcements came with strings—political ones, tangled and barbed. Still, a dragon could tip the balance of this entire campaign. She could not afford to reject such power.
Her steed snorted and pawed at the earth beneath them, as if sensing its rider’s unease. Tayrathi reached down to calm the beast with a touch, then turned back to the assembled Dragon Princes.
“We march at dawn,” she announced. “Our scouts report movement near the ruins of Tor Alessi. If we strike swiftly, we may catch the enemy unprepared.”
Odiamh raised an eyebrow. “Then let us hope your scouts are as bold as your words, my lady.”
Tayrathi smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
“Oh, they are bold,” she said. “But it is my cavalry that breaks armies.”
As the Dragon Princes rode to join her host and the sun dipped lower behind the hills, Tayrathi sat tall in her saddle, watching the shadows lengthen. War was coming—and with it, the chance to carve her name into the history of Ulthuan.
And if Caledor thought it could outmaneuver a Daughter of Ellyrion on the battlefield or at court, it would soon learn that pride was not the sole domain of dragons.