Dragon paladins, like warrior-monks of any religious order, were the most skilled warriors the dragon had in their arsenal. They were the masters of dragon martial arts. Trained and tested through years of hardship and war, rising to a level of proficiency that, ultimately, made them ascend out of the traditional confines of normal clan-warriors and rise into the rarefied ranks of dragon champions.
Magar of the Marouth was such a warrior. Old. Hardened. Cagey. This paladin was as skilled as any warrior-monk hoped he might become. He had fought and won every duel, never declining a challenge from either dragon or human. Countless were the stories of how he had bested in swordplay the finest warrior-monks from all the major religious orders. But in a small peasant village called Daggan’s Ho
