|A long and tiresome night the young man had running from the authorities for stealing a simple loaf of bread. As he inhaled deeply he held it in for what seemed an eternity. When he exhaled he flopped his head on the makeshift pillow whilst staring up at the almighty open skies. He was shocked in pure amazement at the true multitude of stars blinking back at him as his eye fixated on one particular star that seemed to be getting larger and larger, changing from the standard white to a fearsome red. As the star got bigger and bigger he, our young brave thief, realized that the star was not in fact getting bigger but closer. The red broke off into one hundred, no one thousand, even more... one million fiery red-eyed horses and on top sat an army of Shadow Folk, a mystical rare and almost unheard of clan that, according to myth and legends, showed up where someone was not meant to be and would share some piece of important information but then slay the nearest thousand people. Our terrified thief knew the stories and couldn't live if he did nothing, so he waited to hear the information given:|
"If you hesitate then you will surely die."
He froze for a single second but as he jumped to one side he quickly understood the information... they were here to kill him first before they killed the nearest thousand. He ducked and dived to avoid their huge swinging weapons, almost getting caught by one as he moved out of the way of another. He managed to wrestle one of their weapons out of the hands of what seemed the weakest one close. With hands clenched tight around the grip of this massive battleaxe he swung, one giant swing fully 360 degrees ranging from high to low, to take out as many as possible. He intended to stop but the momentum of the huge weapon's swing kept him going for another 3 spins. At the time he stopped, his small fragile body ached but he knew he couldn't give up. So he hacked and slashed, he stabbed and thumped, he rolled and he swung, taking out at least seven at a time.
For many hours this is all he did, one man taking on a million fearsome foes, when suddenly both himself and the opposing army stopped and looked to the East as an almighty bang broke the fight...
There appeared a large man's face, smiling at our thief. The face asked, "Are you truly sorry for your sins?" The man smiled and replied, "If I were not, would I fight so hard to save the lives of others? I do not fight for myself anymore." The head nodded as a body appeared below it. The newly-formed body picked our thief up and whispered, "You are a hero now, never stop fighting for the ones around you." The large body placed him down and within seconds was gone... However, instead of the loaf of bread he once stole he had a letter which read:
"As a hero I grant you freedom from death from the Shadow Folk. I also allow the authorities to forget and forgive your recent sins but most importantly, if you talk of this day to others and remind them that sometimes fighting for others is better for you than fighting others, then you may own this continent and raise it. I now officially call it Syrnia... Take good care of it."
Ever since that day our thief-turned-hero vowed to make as many true heroes as he could, all from Syrnia, and that all would repeat his story wherever their travels might take them...