As told by Castellan Jerren
The old castellan leans heavily on his flamberge, his eccentric jester-like hood casting a long shadow over his bearded, weather-beaten face. He looks out over the dunes of the Wailing Dunes, where distant, bestial howls echo against the wind. He turns to you, his voice gravelly and thick with a solemn reverence.
"Hmph. You wish to know the man before you meet the beast? A noble curiosity. Before the rot... before the madness... General Radahn was the mightiest of them all."
He gestures to the banners hanging from the castle walls, depicting the Red Lion.
"He was born of the union between Queen Rennala of the Full Moon and Radagon, the Golden Order's champion. But while his siblings, Ranni and Rykard, took to the sorceries of the moon and the blasphemies of the serpent... Radahn looked elsewhere for his inspiration.
He idolized the First Elden Lord, Godfrey. He admired the Lord's ferocity, his strength, the way he conquered the Lands Between. Radahn adorned his armor with lions to honor him. He sought not just to rule, but to be the very pinnacle of martial might."
"But do not mistake his strength for cruelty. The General possessed a heart as large as his stature.
"You see, as he grew, his body became a mountain of muscle, too heavy for his beloved steed, Leonard. He refused to abandon the scrawny horse. Instead, he traveled to Sellia, the town of sorcery, to learn the gravitational arts. He mastered the magic of the alabaster lords not to crush his enemies—though he could do that with a thought—but simply to make himself light enough to ride his poor, thin horse.
"And in mastering that gravity... he did the impossible. He challenged the very stars themselves. He crushed them, halted their cycles, and froze the fate of the Carian royal family in place. That is why they call him the Starscourge. He holds the cosmos in a headlock, even now, amidst his madness."
Jerren’s expression darkens, his grip on his sword tightening.
"Then came the Shattering. The war of the demigods. There was no clear victor, until the Battle of Aeonia. The Red Lion against the Blade of Miquella, Malenia.
"It was a stalemate of legends. Radahn, the mightiest demigod, against Malenia, the undefeated swordswoman. To break the deadlock... she abandoned her pride. She bloomed. The Scarlet Rot was unleashed upon Caelid.
"It was not a victory. It was an infection. The rot ate away at the land, and it ate away at the General’s mind."
"Now, look at him. My old friend. The wit is gone. The honor, dissolved. He is a dog, wandering the dunes, feasting on the corpses of friends and foes alike. He burns from within, the Scarlet Rot gnawing at his very soul, yet he refuses to die.
"That is why we are here. That is why I, Jerren, organized this gathering. An oath I swore to him long ago: that should he lose his dignity, he would die a death befitting a champion of war.
"Not by the slow decay of sickness. But by the sword! With the clash of steel and the roar of battle!"
Jerren raises his voice, the solemnity replaced by a manic, theatrical fervor.
"So, champion! Do you understand now? You do not face a mere beast. You face the Starscourge! The Conqueror of the Stars!
"Go forth! Give him the end he deserves! Let the Festival begin!"