"Is it dead?" asked the mayor, nervously.
"It is," replied the knight, taking a deep breath.
"How can we ever repay the debt we owe you for what you've done here today? That vile beast would surely have destroyed the entire city and everyone in it, if not for you."
"You have no debt to repay. I'm sorry for the loss of life and damage," the knight replied in a heartfelt manner. "I have companions who, as we speak, are on their way here to assist with what has happened this day, among them healers and engineers. I ask only that they are allowed to help as best they can."
"Of course, of course," mumbled the mayor. "May I ask your name, brave knight?"
"George. You can call me George."
Nodding in unison, the group of dignitaries told George that lookouts would be posted on the walls of the city to greet his companions, before hastily rushing off, frightened by the corpse of the twisted dragon.
Things started to come together over the next couple of days. Major fires were extinguished using water from the city's many surrounding rivers, with people forming giant human chains. Others helped the wounded, of which there were many. In fact barely anyone was left unscathed. Volunteers to help at the hospital, or with the collection of medicines in the form of herbs and roots from the nearby forest, were many. Every man, women and child chipped in. Copious amounts of corpses were collected and placed in huge pyres that had been erected outside the city's walls. Fortunately undamaged, the spire of the magnificent cathedral cast its long shadow over the city square, as if joining in the people's collective sorrow.
Throughout all this, George's companions started to arrive in dribs and drabs, some in small groups, others on their own. They were easily identifiable because they all wore the same tunic as George: white with a bright purple trident running diagonally across them. On arrival, the visitors were all escorted through the bloodstained boulevards to the overcrowded hospital, where George helped tend to the seriously wounded in a dark, dank, death-smelling ward.
Seemingly in charge, the dashing knight dished out assignments to the new arrivals straight away. Healers stayed in and around the hospital, while the planners and politicians worked closely with the mayor and the rest of the city's hierarchy to coordinate the rebuilding effort and temporarily re-house those who had lost their homes.
Meanwhile the engineers appeared to be achieving miracles. Working around the clock, they designed, built and maintained two massive conveyor belts spanning the entire circumference of the square, powered by an array of shire horses and ingenuity. They'd also taken the city's one decaying crane, reinforced it so that it could bear ten times the previous maximum weight, and made it mobile.
Citizens watched, in awe at the efforts of the newcomers. Some whispered in hushed tones that they were doing the impossible and that they must be using some kind of magic. This caught the attention of a few. Most couldn't care less, not with the amazing results that were being achieved. Repairs that should have taken years, looked now like being only a few days away at most.
Throughout all this, the giant, warped body of the matt black dragon lay broken in one corner of the square, eagerly avoided by everyone. Its magnificent wings lay at an excruciating angle, delicate flimsy arms tucked under its bulging belly, all having taken on a shimmering purple hue, not that anyone had looked closely enough to notice.
As the days passed, the progress in repairing the devastation was phenomenal. The crane moved around the square lifting debris onto the conveyor belt. Usable material was taken off at different points of the conveyor, while anything with no value was left until the very end, and then taken off out of the city by horse and cart. It was a little chaotic, but it worked. Planners had drawn up a blueprint of where new buildings should go, agreed it with the mayor and had passed it on to the engineers. It worked like a well oiled machine.
Everyone with a minor injury had been discharged from the hospital. Broken bones, concussions, burns and shock had all been dealt with swiftly, much to everybody's relief. Seven seriously ill patients remained, all but given up on by the doctors and nurses. During triage, these seven had been deemed to have no chance and their blood soaked bodies had been moved to a mouldy, shadow-ridden corner of the building. Each of the seven now owed their existence to the dedication and perseverance of one individual... GEORGE! He'd found them lying there, waiting for death's embrace. The doctors and nurses thought him insane for wasting his time on what they knew to be a lost cause, but he didn't give up on them. It wasn't in his nature, something that should have been obvious from his duel with the dragon. Having found them waiting to die, he'd tended to them personally. Remarkably, and much to the medical staff's amazement, one by one their conditions stabilised. It was just another of the miracles that seemed to be coming thick and fast these days.
Having done all he could at the hospital, George tasked himself with overseeing the rebuilding work, conversing regularly with the planners, politicians and the idiosyncratic engineers. As he moved through the streets from one part of the city to another, people would approach him, men shaking his hand, women kissing him on the cheek, all offering thanks for the seemingly amazing feats he and his colleagues had achieved, much to his ever increasing embarrassment. Everybody in the city remarked what a true and inspiring leader of men he was. If only they knew the truth...
In the early hours of the morning on the seventh day after the battle with the dragon, in the shadows of a partly rebuilt house on the edge of the square, George and his companions found themselves shivering with cold. Teeth chattering ever so slightly, he managed to ask the question.
"How long until everything here is complete?"
"Two full days from now the whole thing will be finished; the city will be as good as new, if not better," explained Hannah, the chief politician.
"What about the chamber?" whispered George. "Will it be ready on time?"
"As far as we know preparations are at an advanced stage, and it should be ready when we get there."
"Have we procured any transport for Troydenn?" George asked, directing the question towards the eclectic group of engineers sitting silently in one darkened corner. From out of the darkness behind them stepped a short, fat, balding man with a great big, thick, grey beard, as wide as it was long,. Although nothing special to look at, this man clearly commanded respect, as well he should, for he was renowned as one of the best engineers that had ever lived. His name was Axus.
Shoving his way through his fellow workers so that he could address George directly, he did his best to answer the question.
"We've asked the mayor if we can have two of the massive freight sleighs that they use in winter to transport goods up the main road and through the pass. I don't think there'll be a problem, given the time of year and with everything we've already done for them. We know how to convert the runners on the sleighs to work effectively on grass, mud and road. Our biggest issue is Troydenn's massive frame. Both sleighs will have to be attached so that they run side by side and must be reinforced dramatically. I don't have what I need here to even begin to solve that problem. I've sent word back with a view to them finding the mantras that we need. Hopefully they'll have a hunt around and come up with something useful. If need be they can always head on over to Gee Tee's Mantra Emporium and see if he has anything that fits the bill."