It is said that long ago, in ancient Caledonia, during the time of Uther Pendragon, there was a clan of notable prestige. In contrast to Clan Pendragon, they held great power in the Highlands of Caledonia.
Their unique environment granted them strong physiques, capable of smashing rocks with their bare hands. This was further accentuated when compared with Clan McFarr. Even the leading tribes of the region bowed down to them.
This aided them in raiding the southern region of the desolate peninsula. The harsh regions and seasons rendered the land almost barren, with scarce vegetation growing amongst the craggy rocks and cliffs.
Therefore, they had to resort to drastic measures.
Raids were very common, happening almost every week, for the sake of survival. Their brute strength would have made them the overlords of the region, had it not been for one clan:
The Pendragon Clan.
Harboring the bloodline of the Faerie Goblins of Britain, they held unique gifts, unlike any others. The gift of...
Magic
The Pendragon clan, having the highest concentration of magic amongst themselves, led Britain. Held at Londinium, their mighty fortress withstood many raids. This led to Londinium being the last sanctuary for the people of Britain, once the Holy Roman Empire abandoned them.
Despite their venerated prowess, the Picts of Caledonia had no resistance to magic. Many raids failed, for the presence of magicians often led to the early demise of their chieftains. The McFarr clan, although the greatest of them all, still lacked sufficient resistance against magic.
This led to the weakening of their entire race, leading to Britain gaining more and more land until they were driven to the frigid regions of the North.
The Pendragons, hailing victory, took the image of Ddraig, the red dragon, as their symbol of victory.
But the loss of magicles, the very essence of magic, slowly led to their downfall.
The fairies of Britain, feeling this change, decided to create a sanctuary and migrate there.
The name of that sanctuary was Avalon.
Fearing the change, Uther Pendragon, in a fit of madness, created a monstrous being, hoping for a savior for all of Britain.
His name was Arthur Pendragon.
Along with him was his sister, the last goblin of Britain, Morgan le Fay.
Despite the success, with every high lord of Britain celebrating, he was afraid.
Afraid of Clan McFarr.
For he heard that among them was a wise chieftain, Boarin McFarr.
His strength was the mightiest of them all, with none other like him before. With a single punch he laid to rest the vile Earthdragon of Thorum, a breath to quell the fire of Asuel, a stomp to subdue the great shaking of Nacmu.
Fearing for the safety of Britain, he led one last crusade to Caledonia, to destroy Boarin once and for all. Mighty was his army that day, from the great lords of Crahaix to the mighty knights of Stirling. Their banners flew forth, the earth shuddering under their might.
The earth shattered, the rivers split, the forests cleaved. The battle fought was mighty indeed, with heroes from all places fighting for their justice. The lords of Britain proved far superior, for after battling for seven days and seven nights, Boarin McFarr was finally beheaded at MacStile.
Yet it cost them dearly. More than half of the army was decimated, the lords were all but gone, and Uther Pendragon was killed.
Yet he had served his purpose. His son, Arthur Pendragon, would rule all of Britain, Wales, and Scotland under one banner, alongside his sister, for all eternity.
If it weren't for the fact that Boarin had a son, a son that he carefully hid away.
A son by the name of Angus McFarr.