Particularly, I very much like one specif moment of Verditius life and I think it represents really well who he was and what his craft meant to him. Also, it's kind of a representation of how the hubris pushes the maga of the house into a spiral of greed and ambition. The moment in question is when he, failling to locate a supposed Wayland's spirit - or something like that - in the Black Forest, met a raven perched on a dying yew:
The bird spoke, saying that the only way to reach Wayland in the otherworld was for a wanderer to inflict a permanent wound upon himself, one reminiscent of Wayland’s wounding in legend. Driven by desire, Verditius maimed himself, removing his left foot with one deft stroke of his hatchet. Pain washed over him and he fell unconscious. (HoH: Mystery Cults, p. 109)
With this in mind, I pictured the following:
Verditius is sat at the exposed roots of this big dying yew, leaning against the tree trunk and facing us, in the depths of the Black Forest. There is a raven perched at one of the lowest lateral branches, almost mesmerized by the scene soon to be unfolded. The man holds firmly his left leg with his left hand, and in the grasp of his right hand, arm fully extended above his head, is an elegant hatchet, preapered to do it's most important work. The man doesn't look at his leg. His gaze, fixed on ours. In his face, only certainty: there's no hesitation.
But I think it would be really important to represent this scene not just in a morbid way, but also kind of in a calm and sacred way. It's a sacrifice, after all. And all Verditius are willing to accept it's price, sooner or later...
There's not much "action" or "heroism" here, or even magic per se, but everytime I think of the founder I see him at this very moment. It's ultimately a beautiful paralel to Odin's sacrifice at the Yggdrasil, a sacrifice also made to unearth the secrets of some magic runes.