Sir Harvey the Handsome

Dragonslayer... with a paladin's panache...

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Harvey and George were inseparable. They were conscripted into the Silver Knights at the same time, and both shot through the ranks of the Platinum Protectorate due to their battle prowess and natural aptitude for leadership.

As Golden Paladins they worked together as a formidable fighting force. Sir George would brandish his lance atop his colossal ebony stallion, Black Thunder, and evil would run for cover. And wherever Sir Harvey galloped atop Handlebarrs, the swiftest and most faithful of steeds, darkness was purged from the land.

Real notoriety came when they learned of a battalion of trolls on the march across the mountains into civilized lands, with death and chaos their goal. Together, with a contingent of only four Silver Knights under their command, they managed to shatter the invasion force. Riding their steeds, all shod with enchanted horseshoes of speed, the six of them blasted their way to the center of the troll camp and slew the Troll King and his high priests. With no leadership to unite them, the feeble-minded trolls scattered back to the wastelands from which they crawled.

For the surviving Silver Knight, Sir Brian the Miserable, such a victory ensured his immediate assent into the order of Golden Paladins. And “Gentleman” George, and “Handsome” Harvey, as they were now known far and wide, were invited to undergo the training to become Platinum Knights.

If there was anything more impressive than their fighting prowess, it was the charm and grace with which they learned the finer art of diplomacy. In the Platinum Palace, they learned the courtly graces of all the civilized lands with the greatest of ease. It was no challenge as it was for more brutish warriors, instead it came so naturally that they often found themselves correcting older knights on everything from table etiquette to the pronunciation of foreign tongues

When their training was finally complete the two friends, who had so often been mistaken for brothers, wailed and wept with sorrow as they were now forced to part ways. Gentleman George would be made a general of the Protectorate’s northern forces, while Harvey was assigned a three year journey as an emissary to the halfling tribes inhabiting the balmy jungle islands far beyond the eastern sea. When Harvey returned from his odessy to the Platinum Palace, he was greeted with news most distressing. Dragons were on the move. Little could be ascertained about their motives, their organization, or their numbers, but it was clear that the evil dragons were migrating south into the lands of men.

The very night of his return, Harvey received a letter from George. His legions had disposed of dragon after dragon, but they were now spread thin across the continent, and he needed Harvey’s personal assistance. The letter was as short as it was vague. Worried for his companion’s well being, he left that very night to find the George’s camp far to the North.

When Handsome Harvey finally arrived at the top of the hills in which Gentleman George’s remaining division was said to be encamped, he was shocked. Before him was a vast valley. Along the southern hills were entrenched the camp of the Platinum Protectorate, not nearly a full division. While some miles north he saw what appeared to be a thousand campfires of a vast army. Atop faithful Handlebars, he galloped towards the command tent.

He was greeted with a bear hug from George that nearly bent the mithral of Harvey’s plate maille, yet the joy of their reunion was short lived. George, still every bit the gentleman, seemed tired and depressed.

He explained that the army at their doorstep was comprised of the hearty and fearsome orcs of the frozen northern wastes. They had been united by a fearsome blue dragon, as massive as he was cruel. Reports told of how the murderous orcs had ruthlessly slaughtered every last indigenous human tribe in the frozen tundra. Now it seemed they had set their sights on the lands of the south. At that moment, Harvey was again shocked, as George began to speak of their situations as hopeless hanging his head and silently weeping.

Harvey seized George by the arm and dragged him outside of his tent. He called out for every last man to gather before the tent. It was not long until the men were assembled, Handsome Harvey climbed atop Handlebarrs to recount the tale of how he and Gentleman George had crushed the troll invasion so many years ago. He exclaimed the inspiring tale of triumph with eloquent bravado. “It is not the number of soldiers in an army that matters”, he bellowed, “but the bravery of their hearts! And if you will not stand with George and I, than by Bahamut, we will drive them back ourselves!” To this there was a resounding cheer, that could no doubt be heard by the opposing force across the plains of battle. Harvey looked back beaming with pride, searching for Sir George, but could not find him.

The next morning, the Platinum Protectorate marched to meet the enemy. The bravest men took the point, and in front of them rode Handsome Harvey and Gentleman George side by side once again. Just as they were approaching striking distance of the opposing army, they beheld the dragon. It flew down from the clouds and now soared above the diabolical Norhtern legions. In the light of the overcast morning sky, his blue scales seemed dark and dingy. And he was huge. Easily the most fearsome dragon Harvey had ever beheld.

Then, just as Sir Harvey was about to signal the charge, the wyrm belched forth his lightning breath. It was not aimed at the knights, however, but into the ranks of the orcish hordes. Again and again he rained death upon his own army. Sir Harvey looked at the spectacle in astonishment. Sir George, however, turned back and called to his men, “Look, you see how evil turns on itself!” The knights cheered and laughed as the opposing army was crushed by the mighty creature.

Soon the troops began to retreat back to their camp, when it became clear that there would be no battle this day. “This is most curious George. Come let us contemplate this strange event in the safety of our camp” Harvey said to his friend. “You go, I would relish his victory a moment longer”. And so Harvey began back to the encampment alone. So strange, he thought, this whole event. George acting so strangely the night before, and the dragon, so out of character for such an intelligent abomination.

As he contemplated this, he looked back to see the dragon landing right in front of Sir George! Fearing for his friend, he immediately charged forth as quickly as Handlebarrs would take him. Together would the two of them might meet the scaly menace side by side. As he galloped nearer and nearer, he noticed that they were not fighting, but merely talking. Then the beast looked up, noticing Harvey barreling forth, and flew away once again.

“What was that?” Harvey exclaimed. “I merely warned him to never again threaten this land.” Harvey did not press the matter, nor ask more obvious questions. Harvey could read George like a book, and it was clear that he had lied to Harvey. Lied for the first time in his life, as far as Harvey knew. There was only one conclusion at which Sir Harvey could arrive. Gentleman George was in league with the terrible dragon, and the two had struck a deal of some kind.

The two rode back to the Platinum Palace together to report of the victory. The eerie silence that accompanied their ride was terrible for Sir Harvey to endure. But every time he looked over to his friend, George wore a look or satisfaction on his face that bordered on arrogance.

The two were welcomed as heroes. A ceremony of promotion was to take place the next morning ushering the two knights into the Protectorate’s High Command. But as the ceremony was about to take place, Harvey could hold his tongue no longer.

In front of all the Platinum Knights gathered in the great hall, Harvey told them all what he had seen and charged Sir George with treason. At this, George would be known as a gentleman no longer, as he groped maniacally for Harvey’s throat. Driven by unknown dark forces, he choked Sir Harvey to the ground before the other knights could pry him away. George, saying nothing, stormed out of the hall.

The elders of their order immediately sequestered themselves to discuss such a catastrophic breach of courtly protocol. After hours of deliberation, they emerged to charge Sir Harvey the Handsome with his next assignment. He was to seek out Sir George and discover the whole truth of what had transpired. What force could turn such a paragon of virtue against his most loved brother? Any power, their reasoning went, that could corrupt a man such as George, was a threat to all of humanity. And if Sir George could not be redeemed, Harvey was commanded to slay the wicked knight.

Harvey departed with a heavy heart. Not only was his spirit weary at the prospect of killing his old friend, but he had no idea where to start his search. With his handsome face stern, he climbed upon the silver dragon waiting to ferry him to the base of the mountain. As they began their decent, the glittering dragon turned back to speak to Harvey.

“I know how hard it is to lose a friend. And I am quite sure your friend is lost. If you want to find him, seek out dragons of evil… For it is Tiamat he now reveres.”

With an expressionless nod Harvey acknowledged the truth.

Upon landing the shining dragon produced a sword and shield.

“Take these, they are ancient, but their power has not diminished. You will find the sword to be the bane of Tiamat’s children. And the shield will protect you from dragon’s breath. May Bahamut be with you.”

Before Sir Harvey could thank the majestic beast, it was airborne once more and flying into the clouds.

It was not until the sword was shattered in his quest, that Harvey wondered who the dragon was, why he had bestowed such amazing gifts on him, or how he knew so much of both himself and of Sir George. Handsome Harvey was left to wonder if Bahamut himself had not taken a personal interest in his exploits.

Sir Harvey the Handsome

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